I cannot tell you how close I was to cutting tonight. I actually spent a while here writing a post about it, but in the end, I just couldn’t press “publish” because I admitted such embarrassing things.
I’m hiding the rest behind a “read more” button:
I was SO angry with myself tonight. I took some clonazepam not long ago and am waiting it out. It was an emotional day. Firstly, I didn’t really get much if any sleep last night. Then, I didn’t mean to trigger anything by writing the previous post about my old obsession. But holy crap did I have an anxiety attack not long after that. I was on a new-to-me-train when it went full swing. I’m not sure how I managed not to throw up on the train, but I made it to the new-to-me-station. I met “Joe” and we had a nice dinner. We saw a movie I had invited him to see. The movie was good, in my opinion. I definitely got the feeling that he’s not interested in actually dating me. Now hang on here a sec.
So how does it go from that to that? In between there is a movie in which I dissociated most of the time. I was sitting there watching it and nothing at all seemed real. Like I didn’t feel like I was really there or that any of this was taking place. Etc. So what’s my big crime of the night? Basically that I gave him a hug afterward and didn’t want to let go. And I mean seriously. He almost had to get a crowbar. I’m barely exaggerating. My horrible, soul-eating thing kicked in. So how does that translate into me getting the feeling he wouldn’t be interested in dating me for real? Well now, I’m not telling y’all everything, now am I. I ended that draft.
And since when did I feel ready to date for real, anyway?!?! I’M NOT. And since when did I decide I’d want to date “Joe”? Well, I can name five things easily: 1. He’s gentle. 2. I didn’t like his smell at first but now it’s addictive for me. 3. He likes animals. 4. I like talking with him. 5. I love his touch.
Okay, so 2 out of 5 of those can be passed off as my body’s desperation for sexual contact. So that’s back down to 3 things. Whereas, I could create a list of reasons why he and I wouldn’t be compatible for a real, long-term relationship.
But as a friend, he’s perfect. If only I could TELL MY DAMN BODY that. Calm the FUCK down and stop trying to ruin everything.
Well, I do feel much better now, for having written this all out (twice now) and possibly the clonazepam has started to kick in a touch.
Oh, and I feel like I overstayed my welcome with my aunt. But it might be all in my head, based on my own guilt for not helping out around here hardly at all lately. …Or maybe it’s not.