Lately, I can’t get along with anyone. A budding potential relationship goes from a dream to a disastrous crash. Is it me or everyone else?
Certain “wisdom” would say, you idiot, it’s you. How could everyone else be wrong? It’s a matter of perspective. They don’t see it from mine, but I see it from theirs.
Granted, I process information slower. The old Angela would never find herself here. Her battles would be different. The new Angela lets the wrong people into her life, leading to problems when I want to get away.
It’s to the point that I am afraid to be alone with a strange man.
Since that head injury in April of 2012, I have had difficulty reading people, and it’s gotten worse. I don’t trust myself in certain situations, so it takes longer to figure things out. Drinking more than one glass of wine on a date impairs my judgment. Alcohol removes my inhibitions and sense of caution, which leads to a world of confusion.
Some try to take advantage of me. It usually ends with a battle —a couple to a few weeks later when I find my voice. At that point, usually, men get so pissed at me. I am clueless as to why the anger. I believe men don’t like women to have a voice, especially those who speak the truth and disagree.
Thank goodness for my small network of friends who keep me sane. They’ve seen me through good times when I was full of smiles to bad times when I lived in hell. They give me the confidence to be me regardless of who gets pissed off.