Thursday, October 25, 2012

Ever feel like everything around you is caving in and the more things fall the less air you have to breathe until you just can't breathe anymore at all?
That is me at this moment.
I really really really can't handle the ridiculousness that is my life right now.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Just one word...

Why does the word FRIEND hurt so much?
That word just does not seem to encapsulate situation.
Friend? Really? Like the guy you work with?
Like the guy who slept with your ex-fiance but now you're bff's?
There just has to be a better word than that.
And it's like you feel the need to emphasize the fact that I'm a friend.
That we're not together.
I'm not an idiot.
I know this.
I really wish I had the strength to just say fuck it and stop.
But I can't.
You're all I have.
But you're just my friend.
Like the girls at work I don't even really like.
Just a friend...

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Thinking Too Much

I'm really sick of writing about the same thing over and over again.
He doesn't want you Cami.
Wrap your little brain around it.
How can I continue to put myself right back in this situation?
Is this not the textbook definition of insanity?
I keep falling back into the pattern and repeating every single idiotic mistake.
All while hoping this time will be different.
He will realize his mistake.
For one thing, the current male is still so wrapped around and shoved up the ass of his ex that he couldn't do this even if it wasn't for Seth.
And then with the case of Seth, it pretty much puts the nails in the coffin.
I am honestly so fucked up lately.
I literally can' function normally.
I shake and get dizzy at work when we get busy or I encounter a particularly stressful situation.
I've never had problems like that.
I've always been really good under pressure.
But it seems like I'm just so under pressure in every fucking aspect of life that I can't maintain my equilibrium.
I cry at the drop of a hat.
I get pissed and go into rages.
I've trained myself to just shut down mostly, so no one gets the full force of my rage except Seth and my mother.
Seth just gets caught in the crossfire.
I really sit and think more and more lately that he'd just be better off with Steven.
I don't know if that is actually true, but I know that I feel like the worst mother in the world between work and school and whatever else.
And I resent him.
It's so hard to admit it, but I do.
I mean, if I can be rejected so easily because of him now, why not in the future?
I feel like he is what is holding me back from finding somone.
And I know the theory that if the person can't accept and love your child, then he doesn't deserve you, but that's hard.
Maybe I'm just desperate.
Or maybe I just got hit a little too hard on my first time out in the wild.
This guy has literally been the person to get me through this divorce.
And he is so nice and has done so much for me.
And I have so many feelings, but they don't matter.

Because no matter how nice he is or how much he seems to really care about my well-being, that's where it ends.
He can fuck me.
He can spend time with me and make me feel like I matter.
But that's it.
Because Seth gets in the way.
I love Seth, I do.
But there are a LOT of days I wish he didn't exist.
And I know I'm going to go to the special hell for admitting it, but it's true.
I'm just so tired of being so sad and so angry all of the time.
It's like I'm a landmine, just waiting. Just the right thing happens or is said and I explode.
I'm going to go before I get even more worked up.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Fucking Friends with Fucking Benefits...or not so much?

Why can't I get out of my head?
Why do I have to let my stupid fucking emotions and stupid fucking crazy thoughts ruin everything?
This evening could be perfectly nice.
I've had several days of seemingly never ending shit days at work, and my body hurts.
And I'm pissed off.
Sex is good. It can help with these things.
But here I fucking am over thinking and getting sad and stupid.
It doesn't fucking matter.
Why is it okay when I am the one who wants sex?
Why does it only feel like I am being used and will be alone forever now?
Is that true?
Sex is good.
Better than good.
I've been fine with this FWB thing.
It's been working.
Except for those couple of hiccups.
Thinking about it, though...those are kind of the things that make us FWB and not a couple.
IE: Other girls.
Maybe I have deluded myself into thinking that I was doing a great job with this FWB thing when in actuality I haven't been serious about it being that.
I mean, really, we don't just fuck.
We talk and play games and have fun. And cuddle.
And hug. And genuinely care for each other.
So the differences between this and a relationship are?
No L word.
Um....That's all I can think of besides the obvious which is the problem.
I can't handle the idea of there being other girls.
Why the fuck not?
I'm fucking nuts, that's why.
The only issues I've had since we've become this whatever the fuck we are:
-He got fucking livid about some chick he had a thing for apparently having a retarded view on something. I proceeded to flip out and have a fucking breakdown because of this.
-He mentioned seeing a girl (that I know but have only ever exchanged like 2 words with) at a party that he and Viv had discussed having a fling with and seemed interested in pursuing. My birthday. Fucking shit. I don't even think I said anything. I think I just cried while he was there and moped and slept when he was here and he had no clue of the feelings.
-Fucking little girl. I already had twinges of jealousy when we were seeing each other because of this one. But now he seems genuinely interested. She's like 5. Not that it matters. This one hurts most. It sunk in when he couldn't stop texting her not just when I was there, which would have been rude enough, but when we were literally fooling around. Like...seriously? Do I mean that fucking little? Am I really not important enough to just be able to focus on me for THAT BIT OF TIME?
Ugh. Why does it fucking matter?
Why can't I handle it?
I don't want him to leave me.
I'm sure that's a lot of it.
I need to be supreme female.
I don't know why, but it fucking hurts when I'm not.
So what does this mean?
I don't know.
I don't want to stop.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Maybe I can pretend everything is okay tonight.
Then I will figure it out.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Delving Into Promiscuity a Bit More

This is another blog entry that I found here. I just really related to it and it seemed to say the words better than I can. Since I was on the subject of promiscuity yesterday, I thought I'd post it. As usual, outside text is in black, mine is in another color. I think today I will use purple. :)
I will be highlighting extra pertinent stuff, too.

The Why’s of Sex, Promiscuity, and Borderline Personality Disorder:

Why are you so sexual my dear Borderline? That’s a good question isn’t it? One that does not come with a quick answer. This is a first. I’ve found almost no information on why sex seems to be such a prominent feature of Borderline Personality Disorder. What I have found has been only a paragraph or a sentence here or there. So let’s look at what I’ve found, what I feel, and what some of my own theories are.

One of the more obvious theories as to why people with BPD have such reckless sex lives is the fact that they constantly feel emotional emptiness. “Even when they find a stable emotional relationship their fear of abandonment causes them to become paranoid about the stability of their relationship and the validity of the love coming from their partner. A possibility for the reasoning behind sex and borderline personality disorder is that the sufferer of BPD actually tries to self-sabotage their relationship in order to end the relationship before they are actually abandoned by their partner. Another theory as to reckless sex and borderline personality disorder is that the BPD sufferer actually gets an emotional high from bonding with the sexual partner even if only for a short time. They are literally trying to fill in emptiness inside themselves and they try and try to fill that void with sex. After having a sexual affair the person with borderline personality disorder may not have the same amount of guilt as someone with non-BPD. The reason is projection; oftentimes people with borderline personality disorder project their negative behaviors onto others including their partners. This means that someone with borderline personality disorder who is having a reckless sexual affair may have a tendency to build a fake affair that their spouse or loved one is having in their head. They literally make themselves believe that their partner is also cheating and that they are therefore justified in having their reckless sexual affair.”

A previous article I mentioned notes that there may be a number of reasons for the more negative attitudes about sex. “First, many women with BPD are survivors of child abuse, which may contribute to overall negative reactions to adult sexual experiences. Also, women with BPD are more likely to experience a great deal of conflict in their relationships, so they may feel less positive about sex because relationships in general feel less fulfilling.”

Having these negative attitudes doesn’t however, justify why we may still have an attitude directed towards reckless sex. I would take this from a different angle and say that perhaps due to previous abuse there is a subconscious need for approval where it was not given, withheld, or used against us. Overt sexual behavior may be a way of taking back control, exerting control in the present where control was once absent.

Also, knowing that we have the ability to interest and consume someone with our sexuality or ability to seduce them is a form of validation of our own self-worth.
I think this is a HUGE part of it for me. It's like I said in the promiscuity post. A lot of the time I don't even want to have sex. I just want the other person to want to. 

So there’s that. To fill an emotional emptiness with a physical, well ::grins:: I don’t have an argument for this. I also believe that when it comes to sex, people with BPD are more likely to be sexually open and adventurous. We can be virtually uninhibited. Or exactly the opposite. I’ve noticed a trend towards the extremes. Either we’re all or nothing. So you may have borderlines like myself that are ALL for sex or those that have severe issues from resultant traumatic experiences and avoid it whenever possible.  

Another theory comes from Thomas R. Lynch, a psychologist at Duke University. He and his colleagues found a clue in the reading of facial expressions. “The researchers asked 20 adults with BPD and 20 mentally healthy people to watch a computer-generated face change from neutral to emotional. They told subjects to stop the changing image the moment they had identified the emotion. On average, the people with BPD correctly recognized both the unpleasant expressions and the happy faces at a much earlier stage than the other participants did. The results suggest that BPD patients are hyperaware of even subtly emotive faces—problematic in people who are intensely reactive to other people’s moods. So, for example, a hint of boredom or annoyance on a person’s face that most people would not notice might produce anger or fears of abandonment in a person with BPD. Conversely, someone with BPD might see a happy expression as a sign of love and react with inappropriate passion, leading to the whirlwind, stormy romances that rock the lives of people with BPD.
This is HUGELY interesting to me. I've mentioned several times before that I feel like I have a weird ability to know when something is afoot. So this kind of explains that. I am going to do some research to see if this has been investigated further. It makes a lot of sense and explains why even when someone thinks I'm overreacting, I tend to be right in the end most of the time. Like I know stuff they aren't telling me.

I’ve talked about hypersensitivity before. It’s very easy to read too much into what we see in someone else and I do think this theory has some validity, but I don’t think it’s substantial all on its own. This may be a contributing factor but not the main reason.

I’ve said before that I use sex as a means to be close, but not too close. It’s comforting. It allows that very real, very human connection that makes me feel less hollow and alone, while maintaining my safeguards.  I’ve been so hurt and traumatized due to past abuse and experiences that while some part of me does need this closeness, at the same time I do not trust it. There’s something more personal about letting someone into my mind, than into my body. If I can distract them with my body, they’ll have proven themselves not trustworthy enough to get into my mind, but at the same time, I have someone near. I’ll have validated my own paranoia and satisfied my need to not be alone. How’s that for messed up. When I’m alone I feel empty. Sex is one of those ultimate expressions of being not alone. Having your life literally interwined in the arms and legs of another, it’s an encompassing experience, without being completely consumed. There’s the ability to maintain a distance while holding someone close. Or maybe there’s some overdeveloped primitive instinct that if we find a partner, let them into our lives in such a way, we will develop a bond. And from there maybe a lasting one. The more partners, the greater the likelihood of this happening.

Seriously Batting a Thousand Here

This really fucking sucks.
What is so wrong with me?
Am I really not good enough for anyone?
Every single guy I have had any sort of anything with in the least since Steven...has not actually wanted me.
Well, it’s been the “I really like you, but...blah blah” bullshit.
Or worse, the “I don’t deserve you” or “You’re too good for me.”
What a fucking cop-out.
Maybe the key is sex.
Maybe sleeping with someone so early really is negative.
Maybe I need to use the “Think Like a Man” approach and put a 90-day counter on it.
But could I really do that?
Do I have that much self-control?
Plus, it would mean me cutting off all sex currently.
Part of me wants to just continue down this path I’m on, but it seems pretty fucking hopeless.
Sleeping with someone just to sleep with them.
I guess part of me still hopes he will change his mind.
I don’t count on it or anything.
Just a small hope. Especially some of his occasional remarks.
Yuck, I don’t know.
It’s not actually bad how it is currently.
It’s never been my thing before, but it’s working now.
But if I just keep up with this how will I ever meet anyone else?
Anyone with potential?
But do I really need to be meeting anyone right now, anyway?
Maybe this is a good, harmless situation to be in until I’m ready to move on?
But what about him? How does that affect him? I’m not using him. I’d be with him if he had any interest in it. He doesn’t. So I guess we’re kind of on the same page.
Ugh. I don’t know. I don’t think I will handle it very well when he moves on.
My thought process will be “Oh, so she’s good enough to date. She’s worth it. I’m not.”
Why am I so fucking nutso?
I just really don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life.
And I don’t want to settle for someone I don’t even really like just to not be alone.
Although I have a really hard time even deciphering when that’s happening nowadays.
I feel really crappy about myself as a person.
And about my looks.
I have been reading another borderline memoir, and she talks a lot about anorexia and I just really wish I could do that. I mean, I’m borderline, that’s common with us. I don’t even want to be super skinny. Just like back to pre-Seth. I like having some curves. Just not quite as many as I have now. haha.
I’m just already so unhealthy with this stupid cancer stuff and my suck enough immune system besides that, that I get really weak and dizzy from just going a little more than a day without eating.
There’s got to be a solution to that, though, right?
Like on “The Devil Wears Prada” when that chick says she’s on a diet that she doesn’t eat, and then when she feels like she’s about to faint, she eats a cheese cube. I wonder if that would really help with the faint-ness?
Anyway, back to my original point.
I’m tired of guys making me feel like I’m worth something and maybe I have found someone that can handle all of my crap and being wrong.
I really just want to say screw it.
But everyone else is telling me that I need to make a list of (reasonable) qualities that are completely necessary and stick to them.
I guess it’s what I need to do so I don’t get caught up in all this bullshit of people using me and me ending up feeling useless or worthless.
But my question is, do I have time to wait for that?
I don’t know how much longer I have left to have another kid.
I want another one.
But, then again, I don’t need to have one just to have one.
I want to do it right next time.
I just worry about myself.
And money. I have technically supported myself since I was 18, but I have always at least had a roommate or something. And now I have Seth AND me, and I make less than what my bills are, so I am always in debt and always short money.
I could get a second job if I wasn’t in school.
But that’s important, right?
For me and Seth?
For me to have a better job where I CAN support us and not live paycheck to paycheck.
Hell, I don’t know.
All I do know is that something’s gotta give.
I can’t keep on this way.
I keep having to let people help me.
And I hate it.
I hate feeling needy.
I don’t know how this got to here.
I was complaining about men.
Okay, let me straighten this out.
My goals:
Find a better job/way to make more money
Lose weight (find a way to not eat that doesn’t make me sick? Binge/Purge? Diet plan?)
Kick ass in school so I can graduate and solve problem 1
Find a guy that fits at least a few qualities I want:
1.       Accepts that Seth and I are a package deal and can deal with the reality of being in his life
2.       Wants (a) kid(s)
3.       Has a good job/is in school with an acceptable job
4.       Can manage money reasonably
5.       Likes videogames but realizes there are more important things
6.       Have some common interests so we have things to discuss
7.       Have some uncommon interests, trying something new is always fun!
8.       Can watch his mouth/language in front of Seth
9.       Doesn’t talk down to me
10.   Supports my need to go to school/work
11.   Believes education and intelligence are important
12.   Doesn’t smoke or use recreational drugs
13.   Has a car
14.   Has a good sense of humor

Those are all I can come up with...maybe I can add more later? lol
Okay, I am done. I will try to go do work stuff now.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Fuck Away the Feelings (BPD Criterion 4: Impulsivity {Specifically Promiscuity})

·  Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating)
I think I partially fall into a few of these categories but don’t fit them enough to qualify; however, one of these I think I probably exhibit beyond the necessary point enough that it probably makes up for the slack in the other areas: sex.
(Why the fuck won't this turn blue? It should be blue...)
I will start by pointing out that my promiscuity in general can be explained/defined by more than just this criterion. I think the reason for its severity is because it is caused by so many factors. I’ll list some of them, but this is not an exhaustive list:
  • Abandonment issues (criteria 1)
  • Craving inappropriate attention, excitement
  • Crisis – especially triggered by boredom phases, abandonment and many other emotional triggers (criteria 6)
  • Feeling unworthy, unwanted and general low-self esteem that makes any level of attention so much more than it may really be (criteria 2)
  • Self-harm (criteria 5)
  • Lack of Identity (criteria 3)
  • Filling the ever-present feeling of emptiness (criteria 7)
I may have already said this, but I have slept with a lot of people. Like an unreasonable amount considering my age and relationship standing. Sex started out for me as a relationship thing. As I have said before, I jumped from relationship to relationship without so much as a pause to catch my breath. Since my first time (which was with someone I dated on and off for almost 4 years), I moved to the next guy with the assumption that being in a relationship (especially one headed for marriage like all of mine undoubtedly were) meant having sex. So with each boyfriend it became easier and it happened earlier. Almost proportionally, my relationships also got shorter. Most of my relationships, though, fortunately weren’t with the (excuse my phrasing) “hit it and quit it” types. After my fifth* boyfriend, (coincidentally the summer after I graduated high school and my first summer out on my own) I had sex with someone I wasn’t in a relationship with for the first time. I was drunk. I had known him for a few months since Andrea worked with him. He was not even really very attractive to me, but he wanted me and that made it worth it. After that night, we tried to date for a few weeks, but I honestly couldn’t stand him so it didn’t last long. I apparently “broke his heart” because he “loved me,” so he still has never spoken to me again to this day.
I’d like to follow a tangent for just a moment and point out that, although I am the one that is mentally and emotionally unstable, I have had more guys tell me they love me first than the other way around. And it’s usually crazy shit, too. Like I sleep with someone and they love me the next morning or even during. It’s seriously retarded. Like, you’ve known me for like 12 don’t love me. But whatever, end of tangent.
Moving on...After that guy, being “in a relationship” became much more of a metaphysical thing for me. I mean, I had Steven who lived in Wisconsin and who I traded naughty pictures with and had phone sex with when I was feeling lonely or needy or sometimes just bored. And in my head he didn’t count as cheating (although if someone else was doing the same thing, I would have hit the roof.) After that one guy came a lot of semi-dating. Steven came down to meet (aka: sleep with) me. After that, I kind of started dating a guy I was working at the office supply place with. By dating I mean we made out in his car a lot and he came over twice when Andrea wasn’t home and we had sex. On the floor and in her bed (which is still funny to me). After that I kind of only hung out with him occasionally because, as per usual, I was getting tired of him. Steven came down again and I slept with him. Then I ended it with the other guy (whose heart I also “broke”) and kind of dated Steven and, except for the fact that he lived 800 miles away and was about to deploy to Iraq, it was good. I stayed faithful to him completely (ironically) and that went well. Oh wait, except for the fact that he was cheating on me at every turn and I kept finding Myspace messages, emails, texts, etc... showing me what was going on. I guess I deserved it, though. Maybe that’s why he’s the one I clung to so hard. Because I thought that if I was good enough I could keep him and he would be only for me. So in December when he proposed after 4 months of knowing each other on anything more than a long-distance level, I accepted. I was faithful to him all his time leading up to and while he was in Iraq (including the time before I was/knew I was pregnant.) And then he got home and all hell broke loose since he had had a couple of relationships over there and one thing after another that I was pretty much just sick of it. So that’s when I really went on the “sex binge” as I like to call it.
When Steven and I got married, I had slept with seven people. At this point, I have slept with fifteen, and I am just recently separated and not even divorced yet. After the cheating thing with Steven, we separated and I think that is where my borderline self really took control. I went on a road trip with Andrea to visit her boyfriend who lived a few states away and slept with his roommate. Really just because. Even though he literally said that “bigger girls” weren’t his type and hurt my feelings constantly and was really just a super jerky person in general, I did it and finally felt at least a little bit wanted. A few times after that he came into my area for work and we met up, but that’s all that ever was. After him was a guy from work who originally paid me and that was a nice feeling. That I was worth actual money that could be used to buy Seth diapers and pay rent. After the first few times, though, we started seeing each other fairly regularly. He, also, was a jerk. And when Steven begged me to take him back, I did. And subsequently I broke it off with the guy. Steven was rarely in town, though, and when he was, we were having a lot of problems concerning sex. So when that guy asked me to meet him later on, I did. And it became a thing that occasionally he would text me and we would meet in a parking lot or (very rarely) go to his (and his parents’) house (when no one was home, of course). I pretty much felt obligated and he made me feel like crap when I didn’t meet up with him. So, as much as I hate to admit it, that was going on as recently as the beginning of this year. We didn’t have sex, though. I would give him a blowjob and he would make me feel like I was amazing, a goddess even, for being able to make him feel like that with my mouth. So even though I hated it and it was degrading and made me feel so used it was unreal, a little part of me loved it.
So after that there was sort of a parade of guys. Somewhere soon after that guy I got put in the psych ward for a weekend and had to go to daily psych classes for like two weeks, and that helped for a minute. But then I just could see more and more how much Steven really didn’t care and my anger just grew and grew and the only way to feel like I was worth something was having someone want me. So I had a one-night stand with a disgusting guy and had flings with a few more, but nothing really filled me up like it was supposed to. Most of the time, I just wanted the feeling of someone wanting to have sex with me and didn’t actually want the sex. But by that point I felt guilty and let them do it anyway because, as Rizzo says, “that’s the worst thing a girl could do.” So I decided I was going to try to be I my marriage and do what I was supposed to do, and for the most part I did. I mean, I slipped up a few times and may have said more in a text than was appropriate, but that was the extent of it.
But the cold hard truth of it was that I wasn’t getting what I needed from Steven, and he wasn’t willing to do anything to make it happen. So I found someone else (we already know this one) and kind of clung to him throughout the whole filing for divorce thing. And I had told myself that it was a special thing so I wasn’t going to sleep with him right away because I wanted him to respect me and think better of me than that. But I forgot all those reasons when the time came and he asked why I wouldn’t. So I did and it was amazing and ohmygosh. But of course, it didn’t last either. I thought we were actually in a relationship and he had only ever been with one person and it was fine. But now I’m positive for HSV because I’m a whore and sleep around and so was his ex and he just got caught in the middle of two whores. And I guess that means that my sexual promiscuity should end here and I hope it does but I have terrible judgment especially in the moment. And right now we are still sleeping together despite him making it perfectly clear that we are not going to be together. Which I have weirdly accepted. But I am just scared for the next page I guess because I don’t know really where to go from here or what to do.
I know that the promiscuity has always been about that rush. Sleeping with someone the first few times, that feeling of passion and heat and just wanton need is what keeps me going. It’s what gives me light when all I have is darkness. When I get to the point where I don’t have that feeling of being wanted or needed at all, I feel unnecessary. It’s at that point that I get suicidal. So really, being a whore has kept me from killing myself. I don’t know what’s worse, though, being dead or being a whore. /sigh

*For the purposes of this blog, we will be considering the guy I lost my virginity to as my first boyfriend and counting from there. I had many many more boyfriends before him, but since we didn't do so much as "french kiss," I won't be counting them. Also since I couldn't count how many of those there were if I wanted to. :p

  • Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior
  • Emotional instability due to significant reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)
  • Chronic feelings of emptiness
  • Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)
  • Transient, stress-related paranoid thoughts or severe dissociative symptoms
  • Mirror, Mirror: (BPD Criterion 3: Identity Disturbance)

    Identity disturbance: There are sudden and dramatic shifts in self-image, characterized by shifting goals, values and vocational aspirations. There may be sudden changes in opinions and plans about career, sexual identity, values and types of friends. These individuals may suddenly change from the role of a needy supplicant for help to a righteous avenger of past mistreatment. Although they usually have a self-image that is based on being bad or evil, individuals with borderline personality disorder may at times have feelings that they do not exist at all. Such experiences usually occur in situations in which the individual feels a lack of a meaningful relationship, nurturing and support.

    This is definitely something I have a problem with. Identity? What identity?
    I guess I need to address the sexual identity thing first. I will get more into my issues with promiscuity in the next entry on impulsivity, but I will address one part here. I don’t consider myself a lesbian. I don’t even consider myself bisexual. That being said, I don’t really know what I am. I know that I like men. I like sex with men. Well, some of them. haha. To be fair, though, I don’t have a frame of reference for women. I’ve never done anything sexual with a woman. I’ve only ever kissed women. I mean, I’ve kissed a lot of women, but only ever kissed. I can remember having fantasies about women as far back as the seventh grade. I even remember telling my best friend at the time about my feelings and curiosities and telling her that if she ever wanted to kiss a girl, I hoped it would be me. This was in middle school, so it was obviously before I ever did kiss a girl. The idea is so taboo in the area where I grew up that I just sort of pushed it to the back of my mind and let it only be fantasies until college. The night I had my first drink is when I kissed a girl for the first time. Since then, the only times it’s ever happened is when alcohol is present. I wasn’t shitfaced drunk every time, although I pretended to be to avoid judgment, but I think the alcohol was necessary as a sort of liquid bravery, if you will.
    I think that I would be willing to explore further with a woman if given the option. I just never have had it. I really would like to at this point in my life when I’m not exactly constrained to a relationship. I’ve been having a lot of dreams of the sort lately, and I’ve been noticing women a lot more. But I don’t know. I doubt it will happen, though. I don’t know how to tell when a woman is interested. It’s a completely different game. Plus there are the social ramifications. I would die if most anyone found out. Andrea says that borderlines struggle a lot with not being sure about their sexuality and that it’s basically not really real. I don’t know. I think the problem is that I don’t think I’m brave enough to be bisexual. I think it will just always be a fantasy in my head.
    Honestly, I don’t know who I am truly. As I’ve mentioned before, I have the “chameleon problem.” I tend to be more like the people I am around. Which, everyone does this to a point. Especially in school years, people will pretend to like things they don’t or do things they don’t so they will fit in. And sure, I did this  I remember being in junior high raving about how much I liked the band BB Mac when I never really thought they were very good. But what I’m talking about is more than that. It’s more than just pretending to like something.

    It’s actually making decisions, having opinions, likes and dislikes based on other people. I honestly don’t know what I would like if it wasn’t for other people. Which, it could be argued that everyone is introduced to most things by someone else. My problem is that nine times out of ten, if something is introduced to me by someone I want to like me, I will like it. Even if it means watching, doing, reading, or whatever that thing over and over until I can like it
     I mean, I am a part of many fandoms. I think those are real things that I like. That’s why they are so important to me. Like Harry Potter. I know it’s lame, but I have been through so many relationships and friendships in the past 15 years, but those books were my constant. They were something I could always count on. I think, also, though, that I just like the feeling of being part of a fandom. Having people that relate to me and laugh at the same jokes as me and feel overly attached to fictional characters like me.
    But anyway, to get off my tangent... I tend to try to blend in with my surroundings. I get called two-faced a lot. I try really hard to not be like that. I have gotten a lot better about it, but it’s hard. I may like person x just fine, but if one of my “pedestal people” (to refer back to idealization) doesn’t like that person, I will pretend to not like them either. I will possibly even trash talk him or her. I just have this overt need for people to like me. Even people I don’t like. I can’t stand the idea of being disliked.

  • Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating)
  • Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior
  • Emotional instability due to significant reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)
  • Chronic feelings of emptiness
  • Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)
  • Transient, stress-related paranoid thoughts or severe dissociative symptoms
  • Sunday, July 29, 2012

    Fucked Up

    Life is sufficiently fucked up lately.
    I don't know what in the hell I'm doing.
    I feel like I'm just floating around wherever the wind takes me.
    Brian and I officially split.
    Who didn't see that coming?
    I knew the Seth thing would end up being a deal breaker, plus we had some other issues, too.
    He's a great guy, and I think we could have potentially been a good pairing given different settings.
    So. Now I'm alone again.
    Which is cool, I guess.
    Not really. I don't know.
    I went on a date with Travis.
    It was actually a lot of fun.
    Surprisingly so.
    I've never actually thought of him that way, so I thought it would be weird.
    But we had tons to talk about. And I had forgotten how hilarious he is.
    It was nice.
    I don't know.
    It's weird.
    And I feel like the arcade skank.
    Is that funny?
    I don't know.
    He apparently really likes me though, and I had no clue.
    I'm just trying to let things play out and see how they go.

    Sunday, July 8, 2012

    Angry Rant Turns Crying Rant

    I am so fucking frustrated.
    I am seriously about to just say fuck it and be done.
    This is the most screwed up situation, and I have no clue what to do about it.
    He is freaking killing me here.
    First of all, why can’t he just accept that I know when something is wrong?
    I’ve explained it. I pick up very well on small queues, and I spend a lot of time around him, so I know when something is wrong.
    Just be fucking honest.
    It hurts so badly, and it’s so hard to just let it go and not think about it.
    That’s how my brain is wired...
    I am bad enough about thinking into things in my head as it is, but when you add the insecurity that I’m feeling with this entire situation, it’s almost unbearable.
    My brain automatically takes everything that is said and dices it into inferences and assumptions.
    For instance: Last night he says that I may find some guy while out with my friends to steal me away.
    If this was me, that would be said because I wanted reassurance that it wasn’t going to happen.
    I know that’s not the case, though.
    He seems to know that he’s got me wrapped around his finger.
    So, I guess another logical option would be that he was just joking, but my brain then has the problem of, why even bring something like that up?
    If you’re going to joke or talk about something crazy that could happen, why not say I may slip, fall, and slide into the pins?
    Here’s the problem.
    It’s like he wants me to break up with him.
    He doesn’t want to be the one to break my heart, so he’s hoping I will do it instead.
    I don’t know for sure that it’s the case, but it seems that way.
    He’s always talking about me “finding someone.”
    Or he’s telling me all of these things I should dislike about him, and asking if I do.
    I just don’t get it.
    If you want to end it, end it.
    I guess all I can come up with is that he’s torn.
    Maybe he wants to, but there are other reasons he doesn’t want to.
    Or maybe he just doesn’t want to hurt me.
    Or maybe he doesn’t want to, per say, but he feels that he has to for some reason.
    Or maybe it’s none of these, and he’s still thinking and deciding like we agreed.
    It just doesn’t seem like the latter because he just gets into these modes of resolve when a decision is made, and this feels like that mode.
    Or, it did, until last night.
    I was feeling all super depressed and detach-y.
    And I drank just a little, but enough to have my head screaming, “okay, you’re about to go into emotional shut down.”
    So it was basically I needed to feel wanted really badly or I was going to break down and start crying at him (which went so well the last time, right?).
    So I went with the first option and said I didn’t want to talk because I don’t need to make things worse by trying to tell him how I feel about crap when it obviously doesn’t matter.
    So, that worked. And then he was cuddly and all sweet.
    And he was sweet this morning.
    I just wish it wasn’t so back and forth.
    I hate to paraphrase Katy Perry, but geeze, this hot and cold thing is killing me.
    It’s like I’m back on eggshells, never knowing what to expect.
    And in my head I’m saying that if he wants to end it, he just should.
    Or I should to nix all the bad feelings he would have.
    But I just don’t want to.
    It’s like for him this is just a thing.
    I’m just another girl that liked him so he went along with it.
    But for me it’s like having this person you’ve wanted for so long.
    And you’ve thought about what it would be like and how great it would be and built it up in your imagination for so long.
    And it’s finally real.
    And I kind of wish it was terrible because maybe it would be easier for him to end it.
    But it’s not. It’s sickeningly close to how I thought it would be.
    I mean, of course, there are issues, there always are.
    But when I’m happy and just enjoying time with him and not worrying about all of this stuff, I am so freaking happy.
    I don’t remember when the last time I had that was.
    It’s so hard knowing that what we are to him and what we are to me are so different.
    And now I’m work...yuck.
    I just wish I didn’t feel like the odd person out in every single part of my life.
    And then there’s the problem that it’s obvious that he is interested in a FWB relationship when he breaks up with me.
    I don’t want to say it because it makes me feel super shitty just thinking it could be true, but part of me thinks that the only reason he’s still in it right now is because he is enjoying having someone to have sex with.
    If he finds someone else before our arrangement is up, I’m out.
    He keeps making comments about being FWBs.
    I just don’t think he has any clue how much little comments like that hurt.
    Like the bowling thing, or talking about us being FWBs if/when we break up.
    It makes me just want to sit and cry thinking that I have spent the past month trying to prove that I’m worth it and that we have a real shot and that he has spent it getting more and more detached from me and contemplating how he can still get laid once he dumps me.
    I mean, I may be exaggerating, but the principle applies.
    The fucked up part of that is that I would more than likely agree to it.
    But it would be for the wrong reasons.
    It would be very bad for me.
    I am attached, I am so attached.
    And not even like a codependent “need someone to need” attachment, but like a genuine, “I like this person being mine and don’t want to lose them” attachment.
    So, because of that, I am sure I would agree.
    And, yes, being able to continue with the naughty would be wonderful. Fantastic, even.
    But I can’t do it no matter how much I say I can or want to or anything else.
    I can say sex is just sex until I am blue in the face, but for me, it’s not.
    I am learning that I am wrong in thinking that sex is love.
    And that I can accept, even if I have difficulty with it occasionally.
    But I am not one of those people who can completely detach emotionally and sleep with someone.
    It is an emotional experience, letting someone be as close to you as anyone can be. Letting someone inside of you. And the kissing and touching and feeling of being desired.
    It’s not just a physical thing.
    So I would be getting emotional fulfillment while he was getting physical fulfillment, and then I would be repeatedly hurt when I was reminded that sex is all we have.
    And eventually he would find someone else, and that would be a whole other problem in itself.
    I don’t think I could say it out loud, but I know that if I continued with the sex after we broke up, I would be hoping that somehow he would realize he was wrong, or missed me, or something like that and want me back.
    Logically, I know it’s not true, but it would be my underlying thought.
    My subconscious is sick and twisted and, most of all, irrational.
    That’s why, if I didn’t already have what he does, I most likely do now.
    Because my fucked up idiotic subconscious somehow thought that I would seem more valuable if I didn’t care.
    And if he was going to stick with me, I really honestly wouldn’t, but since he seems hell bent on ending it, I’m going to be in the same screwed position he is in.
    Not that it’s really his fault. He didn’t know.
    But he does know now, and he even cried saying that he felt so terrible for putting me at risk...
    I wonder where that went?
    Out the window with his openness and honesty I suppose. Or with his willingness to make this work.
    I mean, I understand the Seth thing, I really do, but it fucking sucks.
    It really does.
    And I feel like something is wrong with me. Like I’m defective.
    I have such a hard time with resenting Seth.
    It’s not his fault I was such a skank and got knocked up, but he exists, so it is what it is.
    The point is that this doesn’t help.
    I wish I had known from the beginning so I could avoid all of this heartache.
    Even more than that, I just wish I knew that he was actually putting in the effort now.
    That he actually cares and really likes me enough to want to be with me.
    I am so fucking sick of being the girl that’s good enough until something better comes along.
    I am a fucking person and I have fucking feelings and I am sick of crying all the time and feeling like nothing because people only want me around when it’s convenient for them.
    Okay, I am seriously crying now and I need to just stop typing.
    That’s it for today.
    I don’t know if this will be private or not...
    I’m just being honest, but it’s stuff I don’t know how to say out loud.
    He doesn’t usually read unless I tell him to, anyway.
    I don’t know. We’ll see...