This blog often contains uncomfortable subject matter and occasional sexual content. If you don't want to read about it, empower yourself to close the page. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I don't understand my emotions. I've recently realized that I don't understand my depression, anxiety, intimacy issues, anger, etc. nearly as well as I used to think I did. I was wrong in my last entry when I said that I was no longer afraid or ashamed of my emotions. I wanted it to be true, but I'm just not there yet, I guess. Over the past several months, I've read a lot of books on psychology and relationships and I have a better understanding of the origins of my issues. For instance I've learned that my reluctance to stand up for myself or express myself comes from a combination of introversion, growing up with an alcoholic father, and being a woman in a society that expects women to compromise the self for the sake of preserving relationships. But when I am experiencing an unpleasant or unwanted emotion, in that moment I am almost always unable to explain why, to myself and to others. Tonight I am feeling depressed, scared, and very confused. BK and I got into a fight before he left for band practice. I was supposed to work late this evening but we ended up not having as much work as management had predicted. There was still work left at the end of my shift, but it was low priority work that didn't need to be finished on day one. Since BK was supposed to leave for band practice shortly after 5:00, I rushed home to have a few minutes with him before he disappeared until 10:30. I had asked him to spend time with my instead of watching "OMG-the-world-is-going-to-end-soon" videos online like he usually does. He spent a few minutes cuddling with me and then when I went to the bathroom he got right back on the computer. Oh, and his bandmates ended up being over an hour late, and I commented that I wished his friends would let him know when they were going to be late because we could have had sex. We haven't had much sex lately, and I knew that I was about to start my period. I felt like I was racing the clock. Well, immediately after I made that comment I went into the bathroom and discovered that my period had arrived, and I came out and said, "Well never mind about the sex." He then told me that spending all day without weed made his "psychic" abilities difficult to turn off (because remember he is crazy), and that he could feel my anger. Duh, of course he could sense my anger because I came right out and announced it. He accused me of retroactively pressuring him for sex, and not admitting that I was really mad at him for not having sex with me, and not his friends for not letting him know they'd be late. Which was not the case at all. So of course in my typical style I tearfully and prematurely apologized and assumed all blame for the fight in order to restore peace in the relationship. Which of course left me feeling resentful, guilty, and severely confused. I wrote him a note that allowed me to gain more perspective on why I was angry. I felt like he was completely off base with his assumptions about why I was angry. I was mad at him for ignoring me in favor of the internet, but not for choosing not to have sex when I hadn't even suggested it. And I felt like he immediately dismissed the validity of my emotions because he didn't agree with why he thought I was angry. I know that once he reads the note he'll understand. I just wish I didn't have to resort to writing notes to explain my thoughts, emotions and behavior. In the face of conflict I become terrified, a deer in the headlights. I become so defensive and reactive, I can't think straight. I feel pressured to explain things that I don't yet fully understand. It leads to me offering up explanations that are only half-true, or sometimes completely off base. It's not that I'm lying, it's just that I'm grasping at straws because I want to offer something, anything that explains what's going on in my head. I do admit that while I would have understood tonight if he didn't feel like having sex, I've been distressed by the lack of sex in the relationship for several months. We've both been depressed and anxious for a long time, but for completely different reasons. Me because I've been struggling with this identity crisis, trying to figure out what I want and need out of life, and out of my relationships. And because I have no friends, and I'm lonely, and afraid of intimacy. He's depressed because he thinks the world is going to end, that there are secret shadowy figures behind the scenes plotting pure evil. And because he lost his job. He says "job searching" (aka bitching about how everything listed on craigslist is a scam and not actually going out into the world to apply for a job) is causing him a lot of anxiety. I've had issues with sex for several months now. At some point I realized that I am not the sex-fiend that I used to think I was, that I had assumed a hyper-sexual identity as a teen in hopes to finally become desirable to men. When I had sex with past partners, I never felt like I was really "there" during the sex. I think part of it is because I formed my sexual identity from watching porn when I was in high school. I need an erotic image in order to orgasm. Which means that when I masturbate, if I'm not watching porn, I'm thinking about porn. During sex, I'm not focusing on what's happening in the moment with my partner, instead I'm closing my eyes and thinking about porn. And because I was a naive kid when I started watching porn, I assumed that all of the degrading, sexist, and abusive sexual behaviors that are so prevalent in mainstream porn were normal behaviors in real life. This is why I was once totally fine with assuming the masochistic, sexually submissive role with JBen, why I let JBeg pressure me into anal sex when I didn't want to do it, why I felt so ashamed when JD told me that DM had said I had "steak drapes" (protruding inner labia), and why to this day I have an unhealthy, guilty fascination with porn involving of-age actors who look like jailbait. So not only am I thinking about porn during sex, I'm thinking about the most depraved stuff I can think of, because one of the most common symptoms of porn addiction is needing more extreme and depraved images over time in order to orgasm. These days sex is a rarity because I have promised myself that I won't force it, and that I won't put pressure on myself to orgasm ever time. The problem is, BK and I are so depressed that we don't shower as often as we should, especially BK. So when we do get horny and start making out, feeling each other up, etc, we have to put the brakes on so that we can go take a shower together. This is a lovely, intimate experience, but then after the shower, we head back to the bedroom immediately to have sex. Since I'm no longer aroused by this time, I feel like the sex is not spontaneous, like it's forced. I try to remind him that I need time to get back into it, but he gets so excited that I think he forgets. So there we are forcing sex again, and all the while I'm trying to remind myself to focus on him and myself, and not think about porn. I try to remind myself that orgasm isn't the goal, and that if I'm going to orgasm it needs to be because of what's happening here and now, and not because of porn that I'm replaying in my head. But sometimes I just lost interest halfway through the sex, so I'll put the vibrator on my clit and think of something pornographic in order to climax and speed up the process. And then I start putting pressure on him to climax because I want it to be over, and I can tell that it makes him uncomfortable. Anyway, besides the sex issues I'm struggling with a lot of other issues related to intimacy. I haven't socialized with anyone other than BK, my famil, or BK's friends in months. I stopped answering my phone before MD and HB (I guess it's HD now? Or HB-D?) moved acorss the country. LH moved out there with them, and it's been a really convenient excuse for me to just not try to get back in touch with them. And I haven't talked to KH, JD, or anyone else either. I realized after lots of reading and reflecting that the reason I had cut off contact was because when I was socializing, I was so terrified of losing a friend, I never spoke my mind. I kept conversation superficial most of the time, and avoided conflict or disagreements. I used all of my energy trying to guess the right things to say, instead of saying what I wanted to say. I have been doing this my entire life. It's partly because I'm female and this is what American society expects out of women, to compromise the self at all times to protect the emotions of others. And I recently found out that these behaviors are also very common in adult children of alcoholics. I can't decide if I want to reach out to my old group of friends or not. I know I want LH back in my life, but I don't know if HB's worth it. Unfortunately MD and HB are a package deal, so if I want MD back, I'll have to accept HB even though she is not going to like me now that I'm trying to assert myself. I wrote a short, non-blaming explanation that I've been thinking about posting on Facebook. At the end it declares that I'm ready to reach out to my friends again, but am I? Is this one of those situations where I'll have to "fake it till I make it"? I don't know and I'm very scared. Another new development is JS. We hadn't talked in years, and I recently ran into her at a Cursive show here in town. We've been sending messages back and forth on Facebook, and it's been nice catching up. I was so happy the night of the show, I thought, this is what I've been waiting for! Here I am lonely and wishing I had some friends, not knowing how to go about making them, and one of my old best friends falls right into my lap. She doesn't even seem to hold a grudge about losing touch. I thought, surely this is not a coincidence, it has to mean something, I can't let this slip out of my grasp! But I am absolutely fucking terrified to let her back in. She said in her last message that we should hang out soon, and I'm so scared. I don't even know what I'm afraid of. I guess I'm afraid of getting close to her and losing her again. And I'm worried that it won't be the same as it used to be, that one or both of us will have changed enough that we aren't compatible as friends anymore. I'm afraid that I'll get too comfortable, too intimate too soon, and scare her away. Or worse, that I won't be able to have an intimate conversation with her anymore. Or that I'll bail again. But there is still some other fear buried underneath all of that, something I can't identify yet. I don't know why I'm so afraid to make friends again. Maybe I should just tell her that up front? Or is that too much information too soon? I'm so worried that I'm going to screw up another friendship. 9:42 p.m. - 2009-12-15 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hello again. I haven't written in this blog in six months. Holy crap. I've been writing on a regular basis in notebooks that I take with me to work. Work, by the way, continues to depress me and stress me out. I've noticed that my eyelid will twitch most of the time while I'm at work, and then when I go home, it stops. The problem is that I've managed to get a reputation for being too reactive to stress. I have slipped up a few times and slammed something down on my desk. A long time ago, I even slammed a drawer. I'm not proud of it, but I was feeling helpless and frustrated, and I reacted the only way that seemed natural to me. And of course I've always been a complainer, so even before I ever slammed anything down, there were a few people who thought I had a "negative attitude". So now my coworkers tend to think I'm a crazy bitch. So much so, that someone reported me for being angry and slamming things around on my desk when I wasn't. They had just misinterpreted my body language or something, probably due to the popular assumption that I'm always a raging bitch. RM likes to joke about my "attitude problem", and while I know he's doing in it jest (he might hate this job even more than me) I can't help but bristle. I worry that it will inflate the reputation. I worry about this at work because if I'm not careful, I could get fired. And oh no, we couldn't possibly part with our precious security, could we?! (Actually, more about that later, if I remember). So yeah, it's responsible to pretend to be an emotionless robot at work, but I've stopped feeling like I should have to be dishonest or secretive about my emotions all the time elsewhere. See, I've read a few books and learned quite a bit about the way I tick, and I'm finally able to say that I'm not ashamed or afraid of my anger anymore. Or my anxiety, uncertainty, or any other emotion that I experience, for that matter. Our society has been led to believe that sadness, anger, fear, and other unpleasant emotions are indications of some defect in our lives that must be corrected. If we spend any amount of time unhappy, clearly there is something "wrong" with our lives, right? So then wouldn't it make sense to avoid those negative emotions at all costs? So we avoid the causes of anger, fear, and sadness, if possible. Of course it's impossible to avoid everything that can bring about unpleasant feelings (and this can make us feel terribly helpless), so then we take the next step: We don't express the emotion. Because why should we bring others down with us? (Here we are assuming responsibility for others' emotions.) Or perhaps we've been criticized for our emotions, told that we shouldn't feel angry because of this, or we don't have a right to be sad about that. We have developed a strong sense of shame about any emotion besides happy, and this leads some of us (but not all) to the next step: We don't even allow ourselves to experience the undesired emotions anymore. "It's no use getting angry," we say, "It won't get us anywhere." We might distract ourselves from an issue that's making us sad, by watching TV or constantly surrounding ourselves with people so that we don't have time to feel angry or sad or hopeless. Or maybe we're just in denial and we don't even realize that we're unhappy. After all, we have such a comfortable life, lots of friends, loving family, plenty of stuff hoarded in our comfortable homes, what would we possibly have to worry about? This is how most people I'm acquainted with seem to view things. I don't blame them, and I don't blame myself anymore either. We're taught to think and behave like this from birth, taught that anger, sadness, fear, are "bad" emotions that we shouldn't be feeling. In reality, though, of course we should be experiencing all emotions, not just the fun ones. Like I said, I've learned a lot, and I will probably continue these trains of thought later (never did get to the whole "parting with our security" part). But BK's on his way home so I have to log off and cover my tracks. 8:43 p.m. - 2009-11-20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Late night anxiety I am starting to question why BK always seems to be out very, very late. The other night, he got off work early, but still didn't come home until 3:30. I know part of it is because he doesn't have a car and has to wait until a friend is willing to take him home. But that doesn't explain his absence tonight. His band played a show at a venue that is within walking distance to our apartment. He played at nine. Before he left he told me he was hoping to duck out early, that he wasn't too interested in the other performers, and he wanted to spend time with me. It is now 1:42 in the morning. I still worry sometimes that maybe he's not honest, maybe it's all an act, like it was with RF (or was it RC? He didn't even give me his real last name). I don't think he's lying when he says he loves me. I just don't know if I should trust him as much as I do. He's so charismatic, and I know that he's a good liar. I've seen him do it. I've seen him pick up the phone and tell CG that he's at someone else's house, when he's really just sitting at home with me. Every time I witness him lying about where he is and who he's with over the phone, I wonder, how many times have I fallen for that? And now he's got this female keyboardist in his band. Honestly, I think she's ugly. Her face looks kind of manly. But she has naturally curly hair, and BK loves curls. I don't know, it's getting to me. I feel threatened because he's always talking about her. I think he has a crush on her. He won't stop talking about what a talented pianist and singer she is, even though her music sounds like your standard Vanessa Carlton white-girl-with-a-piano pop ballads. The real red flag, though, is that he keeps saying he thinks she might try to make a move on him. I know how he functions. I remember him saying shit like that all the time before we dated. "I think that cute little chick over there's giving me the eye." When he is attracted to a girl, he claims that she's attracted to him too. So when he claims that a girl wants to sleep with him, like he has alluded to with this keyboardist, he really means that he would like to sleep with her. It is now 2:07. The bars are closed, and my boyfriend is not home. This means he is either on his way, on foot, or he's stuck at someone else's house without a ride home. Either way, that means I still won't see him for a while. I have to fucking work tomorrow. I need to go to bed! I have trouble falling asleep when I'm alone now. I don't feel safe. I get too scared, especially since he claims to have seen something supernatural in the apartment recently. I usually combat this by keeping the overhead light on, but it burned out tonight. I can't reach it to change the bulb, and even if I could, it's too dark in there to see. I tried putting a lamp in there with a 60 watt bulb, but it's an old lamp and it's flickering. I'm worried it'll short out or something. I know it's irrational to get mad at BK for not being present so that I can sleep. I know that there is nothing to be afraid of, that nothing changes just because the lights go out. Except I don't really know that. I can't see when the lights are off, and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm terribly superstitious. My imagination starts coming up with horrible notions. I start to see things move out of the corner of my eye. The faintest noise sounds like someone breaking into the apartment, or a ghost shuffling toward my bed. I hate myself sometimes for being such a coward. I've been fooling myself lately, claiming that I'm gaining more confidence that I've ever had before. But I'm still afraid of the dark, and I'm more afraid than ever to leave the apartment. I'm fucking pathetic and I don't know how to change it. I am a slave to my own fear, but I'm too comfortable to fight it. 1:33 a.m. - 2009-05-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Why does everyone want to fuck me over? I am pretty fucking pissed off tonight. Back in March, I asked the people at the leasing office of my apartment complex if I could add BK to the lease. They said yes, but he would have to fill out the application form and pay the fee like I did when I moved in. So I picked up the form, and he never filled it out. It's less than two months until my lease is up, so I finally just told him I was sick of waiting. I made an appointment to renew, and planned on just adding him to the lease later on. So I went in today and asked if it was okay to add him to the lease in the middle of the year. The creepy old cougar who runs the place told me that the policy had changed, and they were no longer allowing couples to live in the one bedroom apartments. So... why the fuck did they say he could move in, if the policy had changed? I told her that someone else had given me the okay to add him to the lease, and she wouldn't listen. She said we could move into a two bedroom. So I didn't renew. I told her I'd call back in a few days with my decision, but I had already made it before I even left the office. So now I have less than two months to find an apartment. They're all really picked over by now, and the only ones left are in really inconvenient locations, or shady neighborhoods. I'm so pissed off. How can people be so untrustworthy? How can that saggy-titted old cunt care more about money than helping people keep their homes? I am getting so fucking sick of this town and the way its inhabitants operate, I could puke. 9:57 p.m. - 2009-05-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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