pick pick pick
pull it apart
which you hope can be
I try to draw a breath
but my lungs won’t expand
to allow it
A wet veil has been
placed about my head
and it threatens to cut off
the life force of air
Swimming in your seas
has left me with a fear of drowning
“Test the waters you fool,” says my chastising voice. “Never dive in head first. When are you going to learn your lesson?”
But all is lost in the abyss
my ears are covered with water
and blackness begins to swirl around me
in the shower it hits me
punching me in the gut like a prize fighter
threatening to spill emotions onto the porcelain
like bad Chinese takeout from a queasy stomach
its fingers, icy tendrils, grip my heart
so quickly and tightly
it makes my breath hitch
the pain bringing tears to my eyes
the beast rears its ugly head
opening his colossal jaws
to enclose me in them
swallow me whole, just to spit me out
flesh flayed, bones exposed
why is it you doing the right things
scares me more
than all the wrong things those other guys did
What happened between then and now to make me this way? I was just thinking that I don’t remember ever worrying about whether my ex-husband, before he was my husband, would show up for something, or whether he would call. I am sure I got excited thinking about him calling, and even wished for him to call, but I don’t think I was anxious about it.
Something happened between then and now. I would like to think if I figure out what happened, that I could change it, but I don’t know if I can. My trust in men has been demolished. I wonder if there’s a man in this world who is worthy of my trust. How will I know if he’s worthy? Maybe it’s just me. Maybe, because I can’t seem to trust myself–my judgement, my reactions to certain situations–maybe I will always remain anxious.
I feel like a thread. Pulled so tightly between two points. There is barely any give on it when the wind hits with a gale force. How can the string remain so taut for so long?
Why can’t I relax and let things progress at a natural pace? We had a great first meeting, and all I can wonder is if he will end up cutting contact off with me. Why is this one different? Why does it constantly bring me to the verge of tears, or past the brink? I would never want him to see me like this, so weak, so vulnerable. Why did I open myself up to him the way I have? What was it about him? Other men may have had glimpses, but for him my heart is on my sleeve. I am exposed and not comfortable with it. I try to express my feelings to him, but get tongue-tied and feel like I’m not getting my point across.
I overanalyze. I subject myself to what-ifs, and make up shit in my head when I don’t know what the reality is. Oh god, what is he thinking?
The old mind fuck. A little game I like to play with myself. Been playing it for years, and I’ve had a big round of it going today! I had debated whether to write about it or not, because of the reason I’m doing the mind fuck. Yes, it has to do with a guy, but for some reason I’m feeling kind of superstitious about not writing about him. I know, sounds weird, but I have this silly notion that I might jinx it if I write about it on here. The reason is, because he seems so fabulous. I would stress the “seems”, because I haven’t even met him in person yet. His work schedule is quite hectic, and we are trying to figure out a time.
The mind fuck began last night. Now mind you, this was after he and I had spoke on the phone at least twice yesterday, for at least two hours. Didn’t make any difference though, because I had told him something that made me feel exposed and vulnerable. And the mind fuck begins. I guess at the basis of the mind fuck is self-esteem issues, which have been around for years, but are really still in excess since I only seem to be able to have relationships with guys who cheat on me, or who are emotionally abusive, which leads to trust issues, which is what led me to blabbering on like an idiot to him last night. I really don’t want this guy to think I’m a total nut job and that I need medication, but I think a man who “seems” to be the genuine article and a potential partner needs to know a few things about me. So I have told him about the abusive ex, and I have told him about the cheating exes, and he seems very understanding of where I am coming from when I tell him my wariness about certain situations. But, it still starts the mind fuck for me. Even considering a relationship, even with a guy who “seems” amazing, is a source of extreme anxiety for me. I don’t want to be this way, but I don’t know how to stop it!! Why can’t I just enjoy it? Why do I have to start the constant barrage of questions in my head about why he hasn’t texted enough, or why didn’t he call right when he got off work?
It’s all kinds of crazy, because I had a life before he came along, and he had a life before me too. I have to continue to live my life, and he has to continue to live his. If it’s going to work, we will figure out a way to mesh them together. I have to stop the old tapes in my head. He is not the men that have come before. He is his own person, and I have to allow him to be whatever he is. I do hope what he is, is the wonderful man he’s shown me so far.
I have to remember that I am a wonderful woman, and he would be lucky to have me. I have to remember I am a competent, smart, talented, humorous, sexy, strong woman, and to stop acting like some simpering little bitch. Basically, I need to remember that I am a fat bottom girl and I need to rock it!
Yeah, I know it’s a Bonnie Raitt song, and a kick ass one at that, but, it’s also very true. I want to fall in love, and I want to be in love, and I want a man to be in love with me. I tend to make bad decisions when it comes to love. My brother tells me all the time my “picker” is broken because I don’t seem to choose very well. And I can be impulsive about it, and quite impatient. I guess it’s because I want it so badly.
Which leads me to telling you about how I got my jets cooled today. I know, strange expression, but it’s one of those things my dad has always told me, “cool your jets”, and it was the best euphemism I could come up with to explain how I felt. It’s pretty close to having the wind knocked out of my sails, and it has made this day go agonizingly slow.
So over the last few days, soon after the “afterglow” wore off, I have kind of been feeling like this guy that I went on the date with on Sunday, let’s just call him Mr. M, has been really slowing down the communication. Prior to the date, it was texting all the time, and questions back and forth, and fairly long answers. After the date, it was not so much texting, and very short, sometimes one word answers. So, the longer it went on, the more anxious I got. And I got this feeling almost like I was bothering him when I would text him. So, I cut back on the texts drastically during the day, and only texted in the evenings. The evening texts were a bit short too, so I kept having that feeling like I was being a nuisance to him or something. So, last night, I just came out and asked the question. . .I wanted to know if he had thought about our second date. Yep, stepped in it. I am guessing in the “rules of dating” guide, that this must be one of the big fuck-ups. But how would I know, because I don’t date!! And he didn’t text back, just long, awkward silence, so I texted him this morning to ask if I had said something wrong. He said nope. But, I didn’t stop there. I went on to tell him that I didn’t know how this dating this is supposed to go, and that I’m not really sure what I am supposed to be doing at this point. . .yeah, I know, stupid!! And I asked him if he could just tell me what he’s thinking.
So this is how he answered crazy (crazy being me!): “Look. . . I liked you. .. we had a nice date. . .when I have time again. . .I would like to go out again. . .I’m busy this weekend and Sat of next. . beyond that. . .I don’t know what to tell you. I’m in no hurry. . sorry if that is not what you wanted to hear”.
So I told him I appreciated his honesty, and I apologized for not having any patience, and I told him it was the best date I have ever had. What I should have said was it’s the best date I’ve had so far. . .because it appears as though it won’t be my last. Maybe it was the last one with him, and maybe it’s not, but either way I can’t rest on my laurels. I can’t let the bastard get me down, and I have to keep believing there is a man out there just for me. And I do have to have a little bit of patience. Is it possible that just like anything else, dating takes practice?? That thought is quite depressing. . . Sing it Bonnie, and I’ll really try to listen this time. . .
I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t be cool. The anxiety is starting to set in. I can’t control the fear he just won’t even show up. It has happened to me before, so every time that creeps into my head. It’s probably why I don’t date. I like to act tough, and think I’m this big risk taker, and brag about how I’m getting out there and trying, but then when it comes down to it, I fucking panic. Yep, full-fledged, holy shit, I think I really like this guy and what if he stands me up or worse yet I fall for him and he breaks my heart and fucks me over kind of panic. Yeah, I know that’s a run-on sentence–don’t judge, I’m having a fucking crisis here!! If the run-on sentence bothers you, you better prepare yourself, because this shit actually calls for a run-on paragraph!! Why is it that regardless of how long it’s been since you’ve been abused, that shit is right back there like it was yesterday when certain situations come up? I don’t want to live like a victim and hide in my house and never take a chance at love again dammit!! I want to survive, and thrive, and be all that I was meant to be before I met a couple of asshole guys, who mean nothing!! I will get through this, and if he doesn’t turn out to be “the one”, I will go on looking and trying to find someone who will treat me the way I deserve to be treated!! I do have to say this guy seems pretty cool. . .he’s successful, he’s driven, he’s fucking hilarious, he seems to get me and told me last night he finds me intriguing. WTF?? He must be insane!! He is coming here to take me out, and when I said something about picking a restaurant he asked me if I would be opposed to him planning the date. Are you kidding?? I can’t remember the last time a man planned a date for me. . .hard enough to remember the last time I had a date! It makes me feel kind of special, and I haven’t felt that way in a long time. But, the doubts creep in, and that negative self-talk starts—me telling myself I’m not special, and no one is ever going to think that. And then I say, stop it you stupid bitch!! You can’t do that!! You have to think you are fabulous and special, or no one else is ever going to think you are! Put your damn fat bottom girl pants on and hit it. You fucking got this! You can do this, and if he doesn’t like, then it’s his loss because you are amazing!! So take that all you other men who have come before the ones I am still going to meet! You will not defeat me! I shall rise again!! After all tomorrow is another day!! Oh, I’ll try to remember to get on here and let you know how the date went! 😉
This was supposed to be sort of a “technology free” night. As you can tell it didn’t quite work out that way, since I am posting this blog. I feel like I have to. I am anxious, I am irritable. I went off my anti-depressant about a week ago. Yes, I did wean off it. I’ve been on anti-depressants enough times to know the routine. I went on it because I was irritable, anxious, homicidal, suicidal. . .I was fucking pissed off, and I wanted to just be done with it all. But I really don’t. I have my son, and some days, he’s the only thing that keeps me going, so I keep going. So, I went back on an anti-depressant. I tried Zoloft this time. I hate them–the anti-depressants. I detest them. I don’t like the way they make me feel. They make me feel dead inside. Dead inside my head, and kind of dead inside my heart too. That’s the feeling I don’t like. I take them to avoid the feeling of wanting to kill myself, and they make me feel dead inside. What the fuck?? And on top of it, as if I don’t have enough self-esteem issues, I have no motivation to exercise so it makes me gain weight. Of course I don’t have to worry about having no sex drive while I’m on it, because it isn’t like I even have the opportunity to get laid. But I took it for awhile, so I could feel better, so I could continue going to work and pay my bills. And it helped for awhile, but then it started making me more depressed. I usually have quite a bit of energy, and am constantly on the go, but I would just end up laying on the couch all weekend and not accomplishing anything, so I would feel worse. It’s a vicious cycle. So I stopped taking them again. . . and now I’m wondering if I made the right decision. Is there something else wrong with me besides anxiety? I originally went on it because I was so anxious I was having anxiety attacks, not because I was depressed. At least I didn’t feel depressed. Why can’t I just be normal? Why do I always seem to have issues? I know this entry has been laced with insanity, and probably not made any sense whatsoever, and I apologize. I had to write this shit down though. I don’t know what else to do at this point.
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