Brace yourself as it’s about to get fucking raw today. I’ve written about not wanting to die alone, but I’ve never broach the subject of loneliness before. To be honest, I didn’t really start feeling this loneliness shit until this year. I’m pretty sure that it has something to do with my age (early 30’s) or the fact that I’m single. I’m a loner, to the point that I sometime have to force myself to be social. I always thought I was above being lonely. I mean, can a loner ever feel lonely if they choose to be alone? Could I be confusing loneliness for lack of intimacy?
There are 3 things that I know about myself: I am extremely stubborn, I make jokes about absolutely everything (Just ask my dead grandmother…relax, she honestly doesn’t mind) and I can easily become obsessed with something I truly like. And I’m talking like a decade-long fixation and not a passing fad. Can you guess what my latest compulsion is?? Swiping on a particular, popular dating app, and not just any ole’ swiping. Swiping left is the new petty. I’ve gotten to a point where I don’t even read the profiles and look at the rest of their pictures, I just fucking swipe. I obviously I have specific rules for swiping like if there’s a cat in the first picture I see of you, you are dismissed. If there’s a big ass fish being hung from some sort of line, you are dismissed. If your first picture is of you in a group of 20 deep, you are dismissed. I’m addicted to the rush of mass rejection. What is it about rejection that makes us feel (well, those of us that are dead inside…) so goddamn powerful. And before you shake your head in disbelief, ask yourself why the whole world is on so many dating apps…
I’ve neglected you. I don’t call, I don’t write but I’m back, just like that asshole you gave your number to 4 months ago. These last few months have been busy, amazing and scary all at once. I’ve changed. Kind of a big statement to make but this time off has shown me who I can be and what I’m made of. I’ve been resistant to my own evolution for a while now. And although there has been some growth in the last 3 years, it’s mostly been stagnant because of fear. I’m not one made or built for change, I know how that sounds and yes I am aware that one can live without constant change. But what scares me is the lack of control when those changes come into effect. I’m so scared of how change will affect me that I don’t always realize that it’s necessary. But it’s like I’m seeing many things and people for the first time ( I swear, I wanna slap myself for this cult-like sentence…). What happens when you finally realize that you’re the reason you’re unhappy? How can such a small revelation fuck your entire life up?
I want to apologize for my absence but I was very ill and swimming in the bullshit as per usual. I mean my dating life is dry as fuck but there are those moments where I find myself in a shit storms of my own doing. You would think after kissing countless frogs, bums and undesirables, I would have the common sense to not even look back. BUT, your girl is nothing if she’s not consistently making BAD decisions about the men she chooses. It’s always risky when you allow someone who’s hurt you to come back in your life, because 9 times out of 10, they’ll screw you over in the exact same manner they previously did. And yes I got burned yet again by the same loser. I’m obviously a glutton for punishment but it’s also made me wonder why I decided to give him another chance. I don’t think my level of desperation has sunk that low (yet..) but I think I was mesmerized by the fact that he was crawling back to me (who doesn’t like to see a man on his knees) and that he had rehearsed his little presentation quite well…
Can we be real with each other? What is it with guilt that drives people to recoil in the fetal position the minute they try to be a little more selfish? Can’t we put ourselves first? Men do it all the time (Penis firs though..) but as women we’re so constantly worried that people will see us as self-centered or acting in self-interest. We’re ready to prove them wrong even if it means that we’ll spend the next 30 years miserable, just so Mr. Smith and his dick can be happy…Is devotion really worth the mental anguish and the constant self-doubt?
The fear I’m feeling right now, is slightly paralyzing. I’ve been siting at this computer for over an hour, terrified of outing myself. Scared that the ones that were the closest to me had no idea at the time and still have no idea. I’ve carried this “thing” for almost 5 years now and the burden hasn’t gotten too heavy…yet! I’m outing myself today because after talking to someone close to me about the very subject, I found myself shocked that I didn’t see the signs, especially since I lived it. I hid the fact so well that no one knew that I was in abusive relationship for 5 years.
It’s 2 AM, I’m laying in bed thinking about my day and just thinking about the choices I made. Sometimes they’re great, others I can’t be bothered to think anything through because my impatient nature. As an adult, I’m just starting to realize that life is just a hand full of idealistic notions that we share among ourselves. It’s easier to live life, it seems by constantly lying through your teeth, lying to yourself and of course to those you love. Reality is often harsh and unkind so lying and making up stupid stories are usually needed to soften the blow. But how long can we continue to tell ourselves that everything is fine, while the world is burning down all around you… Will the lies ever really cover up the scars?