temporary relocation

My Iraq blog is up. Email me if you want the address. chris.sexmis[at]gmail[dot]com

the end

My dear readers, all good things must come to an end, and unfortunately, I feel it is time to end my blogs.

I have been debating this decision for a long time, yet I keep coming back to the idea that it is time to shut them down and move on. With how my life has changed, and more importantly how my life is going to continue to change soon, I simply have not had the time to devote to them. I have not been maintaining them in any decent way; I have not been able to follow other people's blogs. I have lost my readerships, and my commenters have fallen silent. I'm unable to keep up readable, worthwhile blogs, and I have lost the feedback that motivated me to do so.

I simply don't have the time. My new position at my job will be monopolizing my time a lot more than my current one does. I will be on the road, and I will be overseas for three months in Iraq or Afghanistan. My maintenance will only continue to deteriorate from this point, so I feel it better to call it a clean end now, rather than let them pathetically peter out to dormancy.

I no longer live alone either. I used to spend my calm, wonderful solitary hours writing and reading blogs. But now, I live with Guy #2, and he soon won't be traveling anymore. I want to put my time into that rather than chaining myself to the computer more than I already do at work. I missed so much time with him traveling, and will continue to do so with me traveling, but I want to try to make some of that up.

Plus I feel I have said everything that I can say. I feel that my blogs do nothing but repeat themselves. How many times can I fuck the same guy? How many times can I ride the same bipolar cycles? Everything I write now echoes something I have written before. It bores me, so I imagine it is just as tedious to my readers as well.

I stopped documenting my sexual misadventures a while ago, which you could probably tell from the dates on the sex posts, and I have felt liberated by not thinking "oh I have to remember this for when I write it..." while I am fucking. I have basically been putting fragments of my journal on bipolar swirl. I am just not a blogger anymore; my mind does not demand it anymore and has even started to revolt against it.

So for all these reasons, most importantly the new job and all the other major changes in my life, I have decided to close down My Sexual Misadventures and bipolar swirl. It's the end of an era for me. I started the blogs as a Writing for the Media project in college in 2004. I have poured my life, my mind, and my soul into these posts and laid myself bare on the internet. I have met fascinating people and caught glimpses of their minds and lives. I have made friends and met other bloggers in person. I had my very first reader die. It has all been an experience I am happy to have participated in.

And I thank you, my dear readers, the commenters and the lurkers, for reading me for so long. I don't think I would have blogged for long at all if it wasn't for your feedback and numbers on the stat counter.

I will still be posting the occasional sex toy reviews on Sexperimentation, and depending on where I am sent, I may try to put up another blog for my time overseas under my real name. Email me if you want that address when/if it all comes to pass.

I have also decided that I will leave fragments of these two blogs up as archives. I can't bring myself to delete them completely. And I feel compelled to leave How to Kill Yourself Slowly up specifically because of all the response and emails it has generated over the years.

Please feel free to email me anytime and for any reason at chris.sexmis@gmail.com. Love and goodbye...

twilight zone

Friday night was a weird night. After flying home from North Carolina in the morning and drastically changing my hair in the afternoon, I met my coworkers for happy hour.

Once I arrived, an hour late, I was the center of attention, at one end of the table at least. All we talked about was me, me moving, and me going to Iraq.

My department head told me HR was initially reluctant to help me stay with the company because they assumed he was doing me a favor and we were good buddies. Yeah, right.

They told one of the big developers that I was opening the "Tennessee office."

One of the VPs talked to me about Iraq and said they needed to meet Guy #2 so he could go through the "approval process."

My department head and my boss told me how popular I would be in Iraq and that soldiers would be lining up to escort me everywhere.

My boss told me how important I would become going to this other program, how brilliant of a writer I am, how hard it will be to replace me.

Fucking weird.

I go from nearly being fired because they think I suck so much to being significant, important. I'm not used to being the center of attention--especially at work. I accepted long ago that no one gives a fuck about the tech writers; I was not prepared for EVERYONE to give a fuck about me as a trainer.

It's so weird, but fuck, it feels good.

It was creepy to hear my department head and boss and the other men talk about how much the soldiers would like me with that creepy old man tone. The way all the men at work have treated me since I lost weight is creepy, but I'll use it. I'll exploit their attraction to get what I want, even if it is pathetic.

This is all just so weird. I never expected my job to go this way. Hell, at this rate, I might be able to stay with my company all the way to Ft. Lewis in Seattle...

first

So I am in North Carolina on my first training trip.

So far, it has gone well. Fayetteville is a shithole, but the girl they sent me with is awesome. We clicked immediately, and she has made me so comfortable. I have also started picking up a lot from her already.

When I came out, I had zero intent of doing any training myself. I planned to sit there and drive while she trained. But by the third day, I started doing the second part of the class. Sure, it's the easy, self explanatory part, but I still was standing there in front of a military crowd, training on a program I barely knew.

I think that will make a good impression with my new bosses.

But more than anything, I think I can do this job. I think I could like to do this job. AFTER I get some experience.

I have never felt more like a civilian in my life. The gulf between the worlds is so great. I feel like an idiot talking to them about software when I have no context to provide. I can't use the acronyms; I can't speak to Iraq or Afghanistan. So I need to go over there. I need to see it in real life. Then I will be all over this job.

guilt

I think part of my amplified anxiety over the move and job change stems from the fact that I feel like a fucking hypocrite. #2 doesn't seem to be bothered by me begging and us making all these drastic changes for him to stop traveling just to have me then start traveling, but I am.

For over two years, I have waited and wanted for him to be home, for us to be together and around each other. I poured so much effort and guilt into getting us to this point where we could settle; then I turn around and do the opposite. I am going to do what I hated him doing for over two years. The hypocrisy makes me feel like shit, makes me sick. The guilt urks me, accelerates my anxiety.

Not to mention I am nervous enough about this new job in itself.

I know this is to keep my good paying job and benefits, plus a shit ton of money for my overseas rotation; I know it will be different and less travel than #2 did; I know he supports me in this; I know it should be my turn on that side of the situation, and I need the experience--yet I still feel hypocritical and guilty and... well scared.

I know #2 and I can survive the situation; we have the entire time we've been what we are now. But I don't know if I can.

I had finally found a sustainable balance with routine and exercise and self-management. All of that goes away with travel. I'm scared to fall apart; I'm terrified to go back to how I was before I was in control. I already feel my mind fraying with all this change. I feel so crazy lately, and it worries me. I hate how it feels--like I'm losing my control, like I can't trust my mind anymore, like I'm ruining things--just crazy.

this move is going to kill me

This move is going to fucking kill me.

I do not deal with this shit well.

I am at home, dealing with all the changes needed for this move, and I am also dealing with all the changes needed for my job transition.

Everything is changing (DRASTICALLY), and I have no damn time.

I cycled more in the past 5 days than the past 2 months. I cannot see or think straight, and it feels like my mind is falling apart.

#2 and I keep "fighting" (read arguing and irritating each other) about the dumbest shit. We can't seem to communicate, and it feels like it will never get better.

I have my first trip for my new position at work next week. I am fucking nervous because I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, and it robs me of one of my last weeks at home.

Travel organization at my work is fucking hell.

My mind is fucking blank from stress, and I feel like shit.

My arms felt heavy like when I cut myself today.

I feel like I should be this broken, but that doesn't fix my mind.

last bbq

Yesterday, we had out last Colorado barbecue. The annual Labor Day bbq.

Already there were tears. Already we talked constantly of us leaving. Already they all lamented our departure. It is the beginning of the end.

I hadn't planned on drinking because I am on the diet, trying to lose the damn summer weight. Then I was just going to have a six pack of beer. Not so much. After one beer, I really wanted to get hammered.

Once the Purple Passion everclear emerged, I was drunk enough for it to sound like a good idea.

Bad idea.

I had the most vivid hangover I've had in months, if not years. When I drove #2 to the airport, I had to pull over so we could both throw up. We sure are not kids anymore.

I drove #2 insane this weekend, I think. I was cycling hard, slamming from manic to irritable and sensitive. I could even tell I was irritating him.

But he should be on the road for a month; then he gets home the week before we leave. It's all happening so fast.