Tuesday, June 16, 2015

I could not be more wrong for this guy

Today on Jwed I got a message:

Hi, I like your pictures. I come to Manhattan once a week. Please view my picture. The password is [redacted.]

So I looked at his profile and his pictures. He's not physically unattractive, but he's definitely what they call "black velvet yarmulke," which translates to "too religious for Ayelet even when she used to keep Shabbos and kosher." And then there was this in his "About Me":

Caring, loving, kind, considerate, passionate, sensual, handy, Hoping to get married between Yom Kippur and Sukkot. It is a propitious time to marry according to the Holy books, especially for someone who has been divorced. It is a hectic time, yet very spiritual time. A moment when the soul is cleansed from the Atonement of Yom Kippur. Well, it's not a must, but a plus.

I'm not opposed to an autumn wedding, but I'm thinking more in terms of color scheme than cleanliness of soul, He lists his occupation as "Kollel & music." I do not want to be with someone who learns professionally; I can't afford to support that lifestyle, and I don't approve of it.

This is what he's looking for:

I don't have any specific restrictions. I would like to feel comfortable with my wife, and not have the need to converse at all times or else. I believe a husband and wife should feel naturally comfortable with each other, nevertheless I enjoy conversation, and a good laugh. 

Well, that's not too bad. After all, I like talking but I also like companionable silences.

I would like a wife that the bedroom is important to her. Once or twice a week is not what I need. I feel that husband and wife should be more open with each other in these matters and less shy.

We all know Ayelet would be happier with once or twice a day. Maybe we are compatible.

Another simple point is oral hygiene. When the moment for closeness comes, I feel for myself and my partner it should be obvious to be clean and have good breath, by brushing and taking mints. It seems kind of obvious, but the obvious at times is forgotten, due to its absolute, logical, and universal understanding. 

Is it really that difficult to establish the need for good oral hygiene? Oy. I'm starting to see why he's divorced.

Another thing, please ladies no major PMS issues, and please no Bipolar stuff. I'm trying to cut down on torture.

Well, that settles that. I'm trying to cut down on torture too, but I can't wish away the bipolar. So I wrote back telling him that we weren't a match. His response?

But I love u

Yeah, right. And people think I'm crazy. I was tempted to write, "Well, I have bipolar disorder and I'm offended by your profile" but I think it's best just to ignore his last message and block him if he gets annoying.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Saturday, May 23, 2015

A homely man with VERY high standards

Recently, a man in one of my Facebook singles groups posted an update asking if any women in the tri-state area would be interested in meeting a guy who has a good job and a nice house. I should have known that such a generic appeal would only come an unappealing prospect, but I commented and we emailed and exchanged phone numbers.

After a few days of aimless texting ("How are you?" "I'm at the pool having lunch" "How far are you from Penn Station?") he texted me on Saturday night:

What r u doing tonight I'm home relaxing. What r u doing tom

I responded

Going out with friends tonight, busy tomorrow

Not entirely true; I didn't have Saturday night plans. But I wasn't going to meet up with him last-minute. That looks desperate.

Let me know when we can talk and get together

he asked. I wrote back:

Let's talk tomorrow evening and make plans :)

The next day he texted

How are you.

I said,

Good Tired. But it was a productive day. How are you?

We exchanged a few more words, then he texted me Monday morning:

Gm. I'm at work. Let's talk later

I didn't want to chat with him while I was at work.

Okay. I should be home by 6:00 or so

He didn't like that.

I have my gym class at 6

It's not a big deal...

Call me after

I responded. He didn't. He texted me:

Do u have a pic or 2

and then texted me a picture of himself at the gym in a muscle T. Decent body, homely face. Well, it's the heart that counts, right? I sent him a selfie-- more or less a headshot.

Pretty. Do u have a length pic.

I didn't respond to that. All day. He texted me that evening:

Going to the gym. I'm glad mon is over

I indicated I was as well.

I didn't get a length pic

Wanted to text "And you won't," but there's no need to be hostile, so I filibustered.

I don't have any

He's a problem-solver:

Just take one phones have cams I took one for u

As though we had agreed to do this. I sidestepped again.

I didn't ask you to take one, and I'm not good at long selfies

Seriously, dude -- if I'm willing to meet you with that face, you shouldn't be super picky.

Take a half selfie. I have no idea how tall u are or your body t ype. I came prepared.

And I'm prepared to stop texting with you.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Friday, May 22, 2015

Her not so perfect life

I had two friends who fell madly in love, were engaged in six weeks, got married young (24 & 25), had 3 kids, moved to the suburbs, bought a house, and had a perfect life.

After I read her joyous post about the gorgeous 15th anniversary gift he got her--a diamond eternity ring--I stopped following them on Facebook.

A few days ago, I saw his profile picture somewhere -- he joined a group or liked something. He was canoodling with a woman who was very definitely not his wife. I went to his page and learned that he had left her and their kids for a woman he met on vacation in the Dominican Republic. (He's no longer Orthodox, btdubs.)

I feel ashamed. I let my petty envy overshadow how kind she was to me. How much she loved me. How happy she was when I called her out of the blue and then friended her on Facebook years ago.

Recent pictures of her on Facebook show her smiling. I can't imagine the pain behind her smile. I might call her again one of these days.

(I know my brother-in-law did essentially the same thing, but my friend is sweet and beautiful, and my sister is a butt-ugly bitch.)
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Wednesday, May 06, 2015

Good for your brain, your heart, and your lady parts

For a while I was taking a probiotic supplement from ReNew Life called, very bluntly, "Ultimate Flora Vaginal Support." I tend to get a lot of UTIs, and I thought the supplements might stop that from happening.

After many UTI-free months, I stopped taking the supplements. Lately, I've been cranky and sad. I thought it was just work getting to me or the lack of a romantic life. But then I read about an interesting study that examined the impact of a multispecies probiotic on mood:

Compared to participants who received the placebo intervention, participants who received the 4-week multispecies probiotics intervention showed a significantly reduced overall cognitive reactivity to sad mood, which was largely accounted for by reduced rumination and aggressive thoughts.

That's the stuff.

I started looking for a probiotic supplement that contained all of the bacteria included in the study. And lo and behold, I found that all of them are in... the "Vaginal Support" supplement I used to take.

There's no guarantee that taking this supplement will improve my mood and functioning. But it's difficult to see how it will make things worse. There's also evidence that probiotics have a beneficial impact on blood pressure and serum cholesterol. While my blood pressure is low, my cholesterol is high and has been for quite some time, even though my diet is moderately low in cholesterol.

I think it's the stress and unhappiness increasing my cholesterol levels: cortisol thickens your blood in fight-or-flight mode so that you'll bleed less if you're wounded. Of course, my wounds are emotional, so the thicker blood is probably just building up the layers of plaque in my arteries. So if probiotics improve my mood, they might help lower my cholesterol.

So I'm adding probiotics back to my nightly medication cocktail, which also includes fish oil, vitamin D, and folic acid. Actually I'm out of folic acid, I better re-stock.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Full disclosure

Well, more like partial disclosure. I have a client who has some form of psychotic disorder and is currently very paranoid. Right now the only people in the clinic he trusts are a part-time counselor, the program director, and myself.

The part-time counselor is an intern who is very wise and has tons of life experience, but was really just an intern a few weeks ago. So as his supervisor, I work very closely with him and his clients. And one of the things we had to work on was getting this client to go back to his psychiatrist, so we met with him together the day before yeesterday.

This was an interesting challenge because I had to stay very, very calm with the client, as he's easily agitated and I'm ordinarily a live wire. Which usually works in my favor but would disregulate this client. I wasn't trying to argue that he needed medication -- I just wanted him to see his psychiatrist again.

The client currently goes to a community health care clinic that provides all services under one roof. Primary care, dermatology, endocrinology, urology, gynecology, dentistry, podiatry -- one-stop shopping. And the program has a coordinator who integrates behavioral health -- psychiatry and therapy -- with their other services. I know because I applied for that job and didn't get it. (Grr.)

"Going to the psychiatrist is just like going to your primary care doctor or any specialist," I said. "The brain is part of the body."

"Do you go to a psychiatrist?" the client asked.

I froze for a millisecond. Personal disclosure is dicey. Revealing too much information about yourself changes the clinician-client dynamic. It ups the intimacy, which can be a serious boundary violation. You have to be absolutely sure you're disclosing to benefit the client, not yourself.

I reveal very little personal information about myself to my clients, and not just because I have a stigmatized illness. On the other hand, here was a chance to be authentic and walk the walk. If there is no reason to be ashamed of going to the psychiatrist, then I should be honest if I go to one.

"Yes, I do," I said. "I go to the psychiatrist, just like I go to the gynecologist -- and it's a lot more comfortable than the gynecologist."

I was hoping to inject some humor and distract him from asking for particulars, and it worked. "Well, you have to go to that doctor, you're a woman..." he said, blushing and averting his gaze.

So we got him to agree to see his psychiatrist again. And now the former intern is the only person at my job who knows I see a psychiatrist. But I'm pretty sure he can be discreet, because he sees one too. I found that out during supervision. Didn't ask -- he disclosed. Which was fine.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"