I Don't Need No Stinking Advice

Discussion in 'General Advice' started by Daggumit, Apr 12, 2015.

  1. Daggumit

    Daggumit Member

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    I've been a reader on this site forever and I've posted under a different name but in this instance I want to remain anonymous because what I'm going to post here is going to be a combination of asinine, humiliating, cathartic, pathetic and maybe even sad. I just need to get some things off my chest, to vent as many say, and yes I need an audience or else I wouldn't post here. I could start a blog but this is as close to anything social media-esque as I get.

    The title of my thread is silly and untrue...advice is welcomed. To describe what you're about to read in one word? Protracted.

    I’m hoping right here right now or rather over the next 180 days (that seems like a long time and is totally made up) that I can finally begin to understand why I'm me. Yeah okay that might be a tad bit optimistic considering I’m the worst of procrastinators and that I’m 36 and have a cordial yet avoidant relationship with my issues. I mean I look at them in passing and we wave sheepishly - painfully - at one another but we’ve never sat down, held hands and had a conversation. I’m still not sure I want to because their teeth look unkept and is that smile really a smile or is it a sneer? Could be both. Actually that doesn’t make any sense considering I’ve had extensive conversations with far dirtier things without being the least bit fazed so I guess in all actuality when it’s all said and done and the truth is on the table staring back at me with innocent doe like eyes wanting to be embraced after decades of neglect…where was I going with that? Oh yeah…I’m a chicken shit. I’ve always been able to easily pick my issues out of a line up but it had to be from behind tempered one way glass and I would veto their rights to face down their accuser. Veto I say! But in a cruel twist of irony, they stealthily manage to stick their hands up my ass each and every day when I’m not looking to puppet my every action and connection.

    I have to start somewhere right? Might as well start right here, in front of the laptop that I spend countless hours researching the merits of the stone currency in Yap or the biological mechanisms of vomiting or Maggie Siff whose eyebrows intrigue me.

    As is already apparent I’m tangential and good at creating the oddest of analogies to try and explain my thought processes. Sometimes they make sense…actually they always makes sense to me but if you the reader don’t understand then keep reading, it might make sense at some point. If it doesn’t? Well as my grandmother who at times seemed holier than Jesus would say “Tough Shit!” Insert super cheesy smiley emoticon here.

    Despite what you’ve read so far, I can be serious and often am when I am alone with just my thoughts and the myriad of bad decisions and semi bad luck (all will be defined sooner or later) that all mock me. At times it eats at me how serious I can be, how deep that goes and how often I am snake bitten; hemorrhaging from the lack of coagulation. I usually have to end up pulling out humor or ridiculousness as a means to rescue myself from the depths of it because if I don’t…to sink is to drown right with suicide on the horizon…mayhaps?

    So here we go. An unconventional writing style coupled with an eccentric mind, a heaping side of absurdity and sprinkled with nonsensical musings should make for a hell of a ride or a hell of a headache. If you develop the latter, I apologize but you have been forewarned and there are several Walgreen's that are open 24/7.

    We have to start here because sex sells. Wait…does sexual dysfunction sell too? Meh, I don’t know but I’m hoping the word sex got your attention. This isn’t 50 shades or anything like that. Awwww, don’t be disappointed it does have some interesting twists and turns if you're into that kind of thing which I hope you're not because it’s your basic I was molested more times than I’d like to count (I have counted and the number is…interesting, stay tuned) and nearly raped all by the time I was 14. I know I’m supposed to be all sullen and full of angst here and believe me I am but the way something like that stews within a person for years and years, masticated by thought and the teeth of denial dampens the weightiness of the subject just enough to swallow, at least right now as I type this. But by the time I finish writing this particular chapter, it may have clamored its way from the depths of my gut boring its way through the walls of my esophagus, commanding my voice box to say “You fucking shit. Stop lying all the god damn time and face down this shit. Look at me you fucktard".

    We’ll get back to the sexual abuse in a minute. Let’s talk about what’s going on at this very moment as I sit here in my 37th year of life and have now been celibate for over 6 years. I told my friends I had sex with someone last year (I think it was last year) but it was so not true. Not because I’m no good in bed, although that might be true given my assured rustiness, but because she was a horrible kisser and how could I possibly bed someone who’s mouth was like an old spit cup? But my friends worry about me and what I’m doing and I like them to think that on some level I’m semi normal. There isn’t a moment where I think that any one of them believes me to be anything but weird but I still need them to believe that there is some part of me that is still rooted in reality/normalcy, hence the story. So what is the nonfictional version of my celibacy? I’m fat, plain and simple…well plus 2 or maybe 16 other things. I’m now fatter than I’ve ever been in life by a good 80lbs and I don’t have enough esteem to even attempt to put myself out there to meet someone just for a chat let alone have them marvel at the unsexiness of my blubber. And I think I do it on purpose. As soon as I started typing about sex, my first thoughts were of cupcakes and barbecue. That’s the honest to God truth. Maybe carrot cake or German chocolate cupcakes and some barbecue brisket. Yeah I have bread…so I would only have to make two stops if I went out. And now my mouth is watering. As of the last few years, this literally happens anytime I think about meeting a woman or having sex with one.

    Growing up I would always hear or read about women who talk about their sex drive doubling and even tripling after 30. Mine hit when I turned about 32 and so began my increased love for food. Don’t get me wrong, I loved food before all this began but once the sex train started revving up, my food filter just said "fuck it" and thus began the inextricable link between food and my thoughts on sex. I often masturbate then eat afterward. Hell, even when I begin to think about possibly masturbating I eat. And you already know about what happens when I think about sex which now is about 236 times a day. At this rate regardless of whether I continue to be celibate or if by some miracle of all that’s fate and godly some woman finds my burgeoning cheecho tolerable and forces me out of my shell, I will eventually need to be cut from my home and hauled out in one of those trucks meant to transport large wildlife. I’ve thought about therapy or a support group (for both the eating and the sexual abuse) but I just eat another bag of Doritos and all is forgotten.

    I wasn’t always like this though. Once upon a time I was…what’s a step below a health nut? I wasn’t crazed, weighing my food and counting every calorie (who has time for that?) but I did workout several hours a day 5 or 6 days a week and was in great shape. Then something changed...I'm not sure what that was but when it changed, I changed too. Okay…here we are analyzing my depression induced obesity without talking about what this whole chapter/entry/regurgitation is supposed to be about. There will be plenty of time to talk about my fatness and ugly eating habits in entry 800. God I hope it doesn’t take that long or at least let the entries be short. Has anyone ever written a cathartic/coming to Jesus type thread that had an inordinate number of 2 or 3 sentenced entries? Hmmm…well this could be a first…amen.

    I don’t particularly like discussing this part of my life simply because duh!...it sucks. I doubt there is a person alive who’s ever felt happy talking about such a thing. Just regurgitating the memories of it silently makes me want to punch the Pope in the face (not because I have anything against him…he was just the first visage that popped into my head) so imagine me writing about it here, in this public place. In real life (this is also real life I understand but you know what I mean, don't twist my words), I’ve never had a real conversation about what happened or how long or who or when or the whys and whats. I’ve hinted at it with some, given the Cliff note version of the Cliff notes of what occurred or I’ve simply said, “This thing happened to me” and tilted my eyes in a specific way that let whoever I was talking to know I am woman and I’ve been through things that most women don’t want to go through but sadly a majority of them have on some level but don't ask me shit else.

    Anddddd….I’ll continue this some other time. I’m not liking how I feel at the moment and this is already long so...perhaps more next time?
     
    #1
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  2. Spygirl

    Spygirl Well-Known Member

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    I am reading and re-reading your post...and I don't have a real comment except to say..you're intriguing. You've got a certain "je ne sais quois"..not only with your writing but also in the way you're (apparently) being blatantly honest here. The recurring theme, I'm picking up is comfort..whether food or sex or abstinence or just telling stories to your friends..you're seeking that which provides you comfort.

    But I still feel like I need to read..and re-read. So for now, I'll say this: the point is..you're here..recognizing your demons..and that is a first step. I applaud you -- anonymous or not, just to write something as profound about oneself...that's HUGE. We all have our own demons. Welcome to the club.
     
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  3. Moses

    Moses Well-Known Member

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    I liked what you wrote a lot. I also wondered who you are as I feel sure I've read you before, but that's not my business at all. Nosy parker me. You made me smile with your musings and I think the way you wrote shows me you have looked the monster in the eye even if you believe you haven't or you can't. And if you haven't, you sure as hell are brave enough and ready to. That kind of brutal self-accepting (sort of) warts and all honesty is needed for the journey. We'll cruise along with you if you'll let us. Try to stay with it. You seem ready. And nothing can be done to fix this sort of shit 'cept to take the journey and you might as well. It might save you from the hauling out in one of those trucks meant to transport large wildlife. lol. You might as well laugh as cry. :) See you soon.
     
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  4. Spygirl

    Spygirl Well-Known Member

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    MOSES! You are a sight for sore eyes! And, spot on with your advice, as usual.
     
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  5. Bluenote

    Bluenote Well-Known Member

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    I am also a survivor of childhood sexual abuse.

    I wish that I could tell you that it is as easy as just writing what happened and everything will be ok. Unfortunately, it's not quite that simple- or rather, facing it all is very hard and painful. It can really help to have guidance and support along the way.

    Facing the truth and integrating it can be pretty rough. It's never black and white, the betrayal and mixed emotions and mixed loyalty and guilt can be a ton to sort through. It's doable, but it's not quick or easy.

    RAINN has a lot of good support, some of it free. https://www.rainn.org

    The Boston Area Rape Crisis Center has a free 24-7 crisis line. It's available wether your trauma is recent or old. http://mobile.barcc.org

    "The Courage to Heal" is an excellent book, with very well rounded information, writing exercises and resources.

    DBT can help manage the shitstorm of emotions that come up. There are books and workbooks for DBT. You also might have access to DBT group therapy or workshops in your area.

    Wendy Maltz has a pretty good book on healing aimed at getting your sex life back on track, if / when you are ready.

    A good therapist can help a lot. And medicine if you are really suffering with symptoms like depression or flashbacks.

    I'm sorry for what happened to you. Stay strong and good luck.
     
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  6. Just Me

    Just Me Well-Known Member

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    There was woman who kept a diary like this on the old forum... It's pure gold! They say the more you face the crap you've gone through in life the easier it is to get over it, so write away until your hearts content! :)
     
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  7. Daggumit

    Daggumit Member

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    Easter was about two weeks ago and I spent it alone, on my couch half naked eating breakfast from McDonald’s and Frosted Cheerios. It's also how I’ve spent the last few Thanksgivings, Christmases and New Years. It will also be how I spend memorial day and likely every other holiday this year. I could have been with family but I have no desire to be around people and haven’t for a few months now. The people at work are about all I can tolerate at the moment but only because I need money for food and shelter. One girl doesn’t get on my nerves, but only after 10am. I tolerate no one before 10am.

    Currently I’m not answering my phone or text messages and I, in general, have no motivation to do anything but breathe and of course eat. Where it used to be a day or two with me and my shadow, now its weeks and months of avoiding everyone; I've felt it stewing for a while, like a rock being thrown into a pond, just after it hits everything is in super extra slow motion as the water ripples out until it has stretched over every part of who I am and I succumb. It’s difficult to explain it outside of that. Maybe I’ll think of something wittier or more profound later.

    I am now also into something called sleeping all fucking day. Yeah that’s something new I’ve picked up. It’s strange because sleeping has never been something I’ve been able to do easily. In fact most of my life I’ve tried and failed miserably to develop some sort of sleep pattern where I go to sleep at X hour and wake up at Y hour and in between a reasonable I've gotten some awesome REM sleep. On the occasion where I would get 3 or 4 full hours of sleep, I would awake feeling as if I’d been on a Fiji-like island in heaven where I received blissfully intense spectacularly timed angelic orgasms and after each one someone fed me chocolate and rubbed my feet. Four continuous hours is more of an extravagance that nature had never seemed to want to impart upon me until now.

    Every day I’m off, I go to bed, wake up, use the bathroom, consume some trans fats, high fructose corn syrup, and super simple carbs then lie back down and wait for sleep to overtake me which happens pretty quickly. I’ve done this at the expense of showering and brushing my teeth. Now if you knew me, which you don’t but keep reading, you would know I used to be a stickler for being clean. I used to shower 3 or 4 times a day and brushed and flossed my teeth twice a day. Now? Well I sleep in my own filth and believe me when I call it that. My arm pits smell like the butt crack of a 360 pound person who’s been sitting out on the porch in 95 degree heat (maybe 60% humidity) for 3 days and don’t get me started on my girl business. I should tell you that my nose is very sensitive to odors so to the lay person I don’t think it’s THAT bad. I had a friend visit a few weeks ago and she made no mention of it and she mentions everything. It’s still offensive to my nostrils but when the last card is laid, I don’t care because showering infringes upon my sleep time. That 20 minute scrub down could mean 20 minutes of me dreaming about making out with Bridget Regan (I have a thing for redheads).

    My symptoms are not cause for an episode of Mystery Diagnosis; I know this is a neon blinking sign of depression complete with bullhorn. I don't know if I’m dipping my toe in that pool or if I’m wading gleefully or glumly in it; likely the latter. Doesn't matter because I have no desire to end the sleep marathons because I am sleeping which is a gift I’m giving myself after spending the entirety of my youth and adulthood lying on top of sleep. Not that sleeping all day is all molasses coated happiness because when I wake every bone and muscle in my body aches as if I’ve run 3 marathons but am I any skinnier? Nope.

    As triumphant as the sleeping coup might sound, it’s pretty pathetic and sad because I’m slowly erasing the little bit of life I had. Every so often over the last few years in mini bursts, I’ve found myself trying to build a network of friends or strengthening the friendships I do have hoping make them stronger and last longer. At some point I always ask myself why I even put in the work when I know all I'm going to do is cast them aside for my couch and long conversations with myself. It all starts off the same, we commiserate over my amazing tastes in music and how they should copy my entire iTunes library (15,000+ songs and counting) because it’s that good, a shared love of travel and/or our shared pasts. Eventually I repeatedly disappoint them by not returning phone calls or texts or cancelling get-togethers/trips. Before I know it one of two things happen: they fall away out of anger/disappointment or I avoid them in fear of the wrath of their anger/disappointment and to wallow in my guilt over not calling/texting.
     
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    Last edited: Apr 15, 2015
  8. Daggumit

    Daggumit Member

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    Facing crap is hard...mostly because it stinks. Ha ha. Thanks for the welcome.
     
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  9. Daggumit

    Daggumit Member

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    Moses I've read many of your posts and have come to value and respect your opinion even if I don't always agree with it.

    Let me be anonymous....no guessing who I am.
     
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  10. Daggumit

    Daggumit Member

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    You hit the nail on the head Spygirl...comfort is the goal but I'm not so sure it should be or maybe I'm seeking the wrong things to provide me comfort?
     
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  11. Moses

    Moses Well-Known Member

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    Oh totz. I was being facetious. Sorry. No idea who you are, don't want to know. Think your posts are deadly (irish slang for 'right-on' or summit like that) and brave. Doesn't mean I don't hear the reality of what you are saying and how serious it is, but fuck man, you are acknowledging the reality of it without shirking it, and that is a huge step. I wonder if you know that absolutely everything about you, your life and your situation can change; that it is possible.
     
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  12. Spygirl

    Spygirl Well-Known Member

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    When we stick to what is comfortable, we don't grow. Maybe the word is also complacent?

    And it could very well be that you're seeking the wrong things to provide the comfort you crave...so, you stay potentially trapped in this world which only makes sense to you. It's easier to be comfortable than to face the inherent fear of the unknown...
     
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  13. Daggumit

    Daggumit Member

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    I know it's possible. I've seen it just in the people around me but for some reason I'm holding myself back and I can't for the life of me figure out why especially when I know it has to be better than what what I have right now. I'm hoping this helps in some way.
     
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  14. Daggumit

    Daggumit Member

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    Growth is the goal but I think I'm the goalie. Boy that was cheesy but true.
     
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  15. Daggumit

    Daggumit Member

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    There are so many things about me that I've known about and know need to change but I've done zilch to change them.

    Thing #1

    I’m an enormously egregious hypocrite.

    I abhor when people lie to me but I lie quite a bit. I don’t lie much about myself except when I need to not seem so pathetic that I’m worthy of a head pat and cursory “bless your heart”, followed by the slinking away of the person because my embarrassment to them is so cringe worthy that they can no longer be in my presence without me knowing just how uncomfortable I’ve made them.

    I hate when people go back on promises yet I seem to do this every minute of every day.

    I hate willful stubbornness and as you can imagine I am about as stubborn as one can get. I would like to caveat that by saying my stubbornness is not all encompassing. Is it annoying? Fuck yes! Is it something that agitates the hell out of a single nerve within likely everyone I know and who knows me? What do you think? But it’s only about certain things like my weight or relationships. Everything else has a fuck it Post-it note on it that I walk by each day and shrug my shoulders at.

    I hate when people are closed emotionally to me. For some reason this really, really, really bothers me. I need people to splay themselves in front of me as if they’re doing an emotional autopsy on themselves just for me. I never use the information against them but it fuels something in me. Maybe it makes me feel important or special because they offered themselves to me in such a way? There’s also this inquisitive analysis that takes place. You know what it is (damn this catharsis is working)? I like trying to understand the mechanizations and triggers to behaviors so that I can help them fix it or at least come across as empathetic. I don’t think that’s fake though, the empathetic part I mean. I don’t think but it may require more consideration on my part. I need this evisceration to happen, I believe, so that I can maybe figure myself out though I already know what most of my triggers and mechanizations are. That’s where I get stuck with people. I never fix them by spelunking into their inner parts and I never get any true understanding of my own issues so that I might be more whole or less crazed or even like myself more yet each with each relationship (old and new) I hold them at arm’s length while they embrace me and my attentiveness. As you can imagine, I’m not open emotionally. I don’t like people prying into my inner parts and pieces, I don’t like anyone knowing what I’m thinking or feeling or wanting or needing. Don’t guess either because you’re just trying to piss me off.

    I am not religious at all as my belief in God vacillates between yes and hmm maybe but when people say they don’t believe I get incredibly offended and angry even especially if they are a walking miracle. Anyone who has lived through anything horrific like having both their limbs chopped off by some serial killer who left them to die on the side of the road but despite only having a pint of blood left in their body, they managed to flag down a passing eighteen wheeler who carried them to the hospital where they were operated on for 28 hours straight and died several times yet survived and is now telling their story on CNN but trying to convince me that they “….made it because of my resilience and fortitude”? Get the fuck outta here. I immediately begin to curse sometimes out loud, telling them they need to thank God for the life they have. The out loud bit is only at the television not at a live human being. I’m not trying to go to jail because someone takes a swing at me and I have to take them out.

    When people say they don’t need or want their family, I roll my eyes until I nearly sprain my optic nerves. I myself have shunned my family for the most part for various reasons; some of them 1,000% valid and others maybe only one quarter of a percent but who’s counting. But of course the eye rolls don’t apply to me because I’m me and I can do damn well what I please without fear of judgment because I don’t keep anyone around long enough to allow them to judge me. Funny enough when people attempt to tell me I need family or family is everything; I guffaw at them as if they are jesters of sociology meant to entertain me with their comedic psychosocial commentary.

    I actively try to get people into relationships or remain in the ones they already have. I’m a marriage/relationship counselor without the license. I will listen to every hurdle, every lying cheating ass thing a person has done and I will come up with a solution through my incredible powers of deduction and extensive knowledge of relationships via experience and books to try and fix the situation. That is if I like the person they are with, if I don’t then I will derive as many reasons to break them up while still appearing to play devil’s advocate and somehow leading them to believe that it was their decision to leave when I know that I pushed them in that direction. Did I mention I’m devious too? Anyway, if I do like both persons in the relationship I will spin scenario after scenario in attempt to show that person what life would be like without their significant other, what they will likely feel and how whatever obstacles they face are temporary yet here I am hiding away in Twix bars and French fries in order to avoid any and all contact with a woman.

    P.S. My relationship experience is only as vast as the 2 people for a total of 2.5 years; one of them kinda serious so anyone who’s listening to my advice is probably pretty stupid or I'm a Mr. Bean-like genius.

    I know all the hypocritical stuff listed above follows the same vein as you hate in others what you hate in yourself but come on. Displaying any of these behaviors or being any of these things is grounds for dismissal from my life even on the first offense. Does that seem fair?
     
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  16. Spygirl

    Spygirl Well-Known Member

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    Still reading...but I'll refrain from trying to provide some sort of psychoanalysis (although I have opinions...the overall theme of "control" being a common denominator...you're not asking for them.). You've said that's not what you're looking for...and a thousand people can give a thousand opinions. I like to think I'm a good read of people..most times. But, I'm willing to bet that any shred of something we give you...you already know. :)

    Carry on. I think this emotional outpouring...might be good for you in some strange kind of way.
     
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    Last edited: Apr 21, 2015
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  17. Daggumit

    Daggumit Member

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    Thing #2

    I’ve anesthetized myself so much that as my life plays out in this very moment what happens within it or around it doesn’t matter a whole lot. I don’t say that flippantly or even defiantly; it’s truth. Whether that’s due to fear or feeling unworthy or laziness or general apathy, I don’t know. I try to find that feeling or reason and it never comes.

    I know you’re not supposed to compare your life to others but damn it I can’t help it. On the few occasions I’m out and I’ve stumbled upon exchanges between people in Wal-Mart...it makes me question my humanity. I know Wal-Mart isn’t the bastion of intelligent conversation but the interactions are real and sometimes funny. I watch these exchanges and ultimately end up hanging my head and averting my eyes because I feel almost like a voyeuristic pervert and because I no longer have what others have. The other day I was at the grocery store (not Wal-Mart) and all of the lines were long. My phone was dead which meant there was no Candy Crush to distract me. I ended up accidently in this conversation between two small families. It wasn’t long before I became fascinated with my own shoe laces but for a few seconds I stared intrusively. Watching such displays feels so alien to me…as a matter of fact if an alien who’d just landed on earth was standing next to me (obviously wearing some ultra-realistic human skin suit) watching the same human connection on display, our demeanor probably wouldn’t be much different. It goes without saying that in order for something like that to happen the alien can’t be hell bent on destroying the human race and would need to have an obvious desire to blend in. But if decorum weren’t needed and we wouldn’t be arrested for doing so, we’d both probably leer with childlike (when you’re an adult it’s more pervy isn’t it?) curiosity reaching out to see if we could touch that feeling perchance to understand it and maybe experience it for ourselves (that definitely sounded pervy). Hell the alien might come to understand its own humanity and where it fits in before I do and the thought of that, even as stupidly retarded as the scenario sounds, makes me sad...kind of.

    I’ve never been super social but I used to be pretty good at small talk and was pretty good at meeting people and making friends or long term acquaintances but as of the last few years, that isn’t the case. On the cool…the decline has been happening for probably the last decade but I think it was subtle back then and has only been recently that it has been par for the course.

    BUT – and here’s the fear part of things – when I think about me at 65 or 70 (if I live that long...my family expire early), it terrifies me that I won’t have anyone who will be there for me. Even more frightening is the idea that I’ve never truly been close to anyone. You always hear older people talk about having been in love or having had a friend of 40 years that they couldn’t live without and the great times they had. And you watch as their hearts nearly burst at the feelings those memories bring forth.

    I can see me sitting in a window staring out at the browning grass as winter approaches and I can see a faint reflection of myself playing off the glass. I’m chewing on those orange slice candies that are sprinkled with sugar and my dentures make a suctioning click as they dislodge slightly from the roof of my mouth with every chew. On the sidewalk I watch children, grandchildren and even siblings of some of the other inhabitants gleefully hug and kiss, smiles aplenty and almost too much love to go around and I’m left with only my reflection and an anger that swells at the pit of my stomach because they’re stepping on that good grass that some nice gardener man prunes meticulously in the spring. And I tap at the glass with my cane yelling at them to get off that good grass.

    How can I be so content with my life as it is yet be so afraid of what fruit will sprout from the seeds that are being planted? Or am I really that content? Yeah yeah I know I’m not content but I have made myself okay with it to the best extent possible or else I wouldn’t continue to perpetuate the cycle right?
     
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  18. greylin

    greylin Well-Known Member

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    Agreed! Will read and no advice.
     
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  19. Bluenote

    Bluenote Well-Known Member

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    Facing stuff is really, really is awful. You and I have been down that road and I'm guessing you know what I mean.

    It's not just that facing stuff takes you out of your comfort zone. It's that it takes you out of functioning- at least for awhile. It feels like opening a pandoras box and letting all hell crash around you. Once it's open, you can't shove it back inside, or have it out and then tuck it back in neatly for work, lunch with mom, to get a decent nights sleep. Flashbacks, crying fits, feeling so disgusting you take hours long showers with your clothes on. Not fun, not pretty and not very functional.

    The op is pretty clear eyed about where she is at atm. Which is different from being ready, willing or even able to take a step forward. Some people, lots of people, choose to never face things. I certainly understand that choice.
     
    #19
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  20. wkeeton

    wkeeton Member

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    Love your writing. Just wanted to say that your remind me of myself in many ways and to exhort you to be very careful or you're going to wake up sixty-five years old having been celibate for 30 years and having nothing in your life that excites you as much as a bag of Doritos. Not that I have any sage advice to help you avoid it. One can understand one's issues until the cows come home, but they are tenacious and tend to remain issues nonetheless. The only thing I've managed to rise above was the depression. I don't even know how I did that, except that I decided it was exhausting and boring and I wasn't going to endure it anymore. Then I moved to another state - that always shakes things up. I don't know how you earn your living - but - you need to write. You do it so well.
     
    #20
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