Posts Tagged ‘relationships’

I don’t get it.

There was a picture posted on FB last week. Some bs about if a girl ignores you, you should pay more attention to her.

Um. If I ignore a guy it’s cause I want nothing to do with him, and stating my lack of interest hasn’t worked. No Contact. Anyone who’s lived through violence knows that one. I’m not being a bitch, I just know your not healthy for me. I don’t need to explain or justify myself to make you feel better. I’m just saying goodbye.

The end.

Except its not. It never is.

If I cease contact, I don’t want you to call or text me. I don’t want to hear how much you want to see me. I don’t want to hear anything about how beautiful I am, how much fun we had, how trustworthy you are, how much you’ll ‘make it up’ to me, about how you bought something special for me.

All I hear is manipulation and lies.

Doesn’t matter if you’re being 100% genuine. I won’t believe a word you say.

Call me babe and you’ve lost me. Even without uttering any other words.

Tell me you could get laid at anytime, but don’t, and therefore don’t want to see me to have sex tells me a few things. One, you have no problem lying to me. Two, you have more intimacy issues then I do. And three, you devalue and objectify and sexualize women. Which goes back to intimacy and lying. If you tell me you simply want to see me, and emphasize you won’t try to get me naked, I know that’s exactly what you want.

If I wanted to be with you, you’ll know it.

I know I’m special, I know I’m beautiful, I know I’m fun. I don’t need your validation. I don’t welcome your flattery.

The next time the past decides to call me, I won’t even bother answering.

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I closed my OKC profile. Closing the dating profile on POF a while back was a huge step forward for me. This time, it was just a logical step forward. Yet, when I clicked the button to delete it permanently I panicked.

There was this thought of who would know I exist? Which is about as ridiculous as my conviction in my own invisibility.

Like this need to be Seen competing with my need for anonymity. Seen, capitalized. Cause it has nothing to do with my physical visibility, has nothing to do with the skin that holds me together.

I heard a sermon about intimacy and submission to God. Many sermons, actually. And there was this automatic reaction of no effing way. Intimacy, cause it terrifies me. And submission cause.. well, I associate it with abuse and prostitution and sociopathic behaviour and kink.

Those sermons kinda clicked things together for me, once I got over my stoic freak out.

My intimacy issues have to first be resolved within and with God before I can look anywhere else. And my submissiveness can find avenues besides sex.

Which is why I shut down the profile.

Then on Sunday I found myself nodding along to a variation of no sex before marriage while wondering to myself when exactly did I start agreeing with that?

I have no idea. Cause its not so much about sex, its about recognizing myself as sacred, and being unwilling to be desecrated in any way. Which is possibly why I can’t maintain any romantic interest in anyone. I’m finally gonna pay attention to that. Message received.

So the fact I’ll be out of the country for four months is actually a really good way to take a break from men, and discover me more.

So… I am Seen. God sees me. That’s all that really matters.

I find it hard to maintain interest in anyone. And this goes beyond romantic entanglements. This includes friends and family as well. It’s not unusual for me to just not contact a friend for a period of time, and then ease back into conversation. But… the people who are my friends are the few who just continue to be there year after year. I can probably count on one hand the people who I’ve kept around and want to keep around. It’s weird. It would be awesome to have a group to hangout with (my friends are all individual friendships with vastly different personalities/lifestyles from each other. I can’t actually bring them together. Like the kinkster with the extremely religious. That’ll go over well. Not.).

With family… Fuck. I come from a tight knit family. Even with those who live overseas. I’ve been actively avoiding them for a long long time. At first, I would make up excuses based on the various things that ailed me (pain, anxiety, whatever). But eventually, I stopped saying anything. It was just a given that if family got together, I wouldn’t show up. I’m pretty sure my youngest cousin has no idea who I am. And she’s now a few years old (fuck, I don’t even know her age).

Anyways. I had promised myself to be more social, which is kinda what brought me to date again (I know, totally the wrong way to go about it). But I’ve been making an effort to initiate contact with friends instead of ignoring. Gotta start somewhere.

I’ve been thinking about my avoidance of those I used to be close to. Especially because it’s my great-aunt’s birthday later this month. Her husband is throwing her a surprise party. I have to face them sometime, and I figure this would be a good place to start. Especially since I’d be staying in the hotel where the party is, so really, I have a built in exit strategy.

It’s stressful. The people in my family are well off, well educated, stable… My cousins close in age to me are studying in various parts of the country, living independently, have jobs, relationships, friendships, pets. And then there’s me. Ex-whore who never graduated high school. Weird fact about me – I’d rather admit I was prostituted then someone without a high school diploma. Regardless of the fact that I got into university anyways on the strength of my grades.

Anyways. It’s the questions and comments from others that is stressing me. The whole “what are you doing with your life” conversation that comes from people you haven’t seen in ages. WTF do I say? “Well, I recently got myself off drugs after being raped yet again. It made me realize that what I’m doing wasn’t working for me. And now I sit in my room and write about myself so unknown people can hear my thoughts”?

Hmm.

Part of me wants to say something like that just for the reaction. Then my better judgement kicks in. My therapist offered to roleplay those awkward questions to lessen the anxiety. And I guess I’ll actually have to do that now.

Even though I don’t feel inadequate or worthless, I know if I start measuring myself against them, I’ll lose. Even though what I’m doing and where I am is just as important as studying Russian Lit for the hell of it (One of my cousins. Really, what does one do with an education in Russian Literature?).

Plus there’s the whole body image thing. I’d be lying if I said I’m totally confident in my skin.

I’m not. I fake it really well. But my weight and appearance isn’t something I like to talk about, and rarely like being commented on. Both have zero relevance to me as a person. But, they aren’t blind. I’ve lost 40+lbs in the last while, but I’m still bigger then I used to be (I mean at my baseline weight, not my skinny unhealthy self). And a few of the women in my family really have no tact when it comes to stuff like that. And then I start comparing myself to my sister, who I still think is the pretty one. Or my aunt, who used to be a model (the magazine kind).

So I can’t even comment about my weight, or the fact I’m losing it, cause I don’t want it to be something they focus on (I end up thinking they’re mentally calculating the 40+lbs back on my frame. Or thinking about how good I used to look). But it’s there. I’m not invisible.

Then to dating. I’ve noticed that I have an uncanny ability to tell when a guy is interested, or about to pick me up. In public, I mean. And I hate hate hate being hit on in public. But if it’s a guy I’ve chatted with for a bit, and decide to meet, I really can’t tell. I actually have no clue if he’s interested or not. It has to be said. Otherwise, I’m oblivious.

I was wondering why that was the other day, while I was swinging in the park (it’s a very meditative activity. I highly recommend it). It occurred to be that it’s some sort of residual survival instinct from being a pro. I’d have to evaluate a guy in the few seconds from him opening the door to me walking in and him shutting it. I had to know, instantly, whether I’d be safe or not. So, now, if it’s someone I want to be interested in, or might be interested in, or just someone to know for fun… I can’t. I can’t read them. It unbalances me.

I’ve also realized I’m kinda chasing that connection I had with J. It was just this instant click.

So now, it’s easy to lose interest. Cause if I can’t get that click, I don’t see the point. Or the guy will say something, and I’ll suddenly think to myself, fuck I’m bored. And like that, I’m done.

But… it’s better then toying with men. And it’s better then just giving into sex. I’ve realized a perverse pleasure in saying no. It’s an awesome word. I love it. But it’s also false empowerment.

Back to family.

I also have to get used to small talk. Small talk bores me. If I can’t get into an in depth discussion, I don’t want to speak. And there’s a lot of superficiality in that branch of my family. It’s just not stuff I care about. My life experience has been so vastly different that I get stuck on words and just listen and nod my head and murmur appropriately and daydream. Or find a corner and read.

One person I am looking forward to seeing. One of my younger cousins. Who doesn’t really know me, but seems to adore me regardless. I’m not crazy about kids, never have been. But she just has a spark that’s refreshing to be around. Crazy wild imagination too. Last time I saw her we build a fairy tale castle out of styrofoam and glitter. It was awesome.

At the very least though, it’ll bring some excitement.

I feel I need to update this with a bit more accuracy.

I recently tried dating again, before realizing I was a whole person all on my own (which kinda makes me sound insane, but those who feel/felt fragmented at their core will understand), so while I wanted the outcome to be different, my behaviour was the same. Which I don’t think is a big deal, since it proved to me I’m a totally different person, and that the things that worked way back no longer do.

Dating is really weird to me in a way it never was before. Stuff that never occurred to me now runs through my mind – Who pays? What constitutes a date? Is it clear that this is NOT the only date I will be going on, cause I’m sure your also testing the dating pool? At what point does it become clear that a “relationship” has developed, whatever that happens to mean? Really. Confusing.

I’ve managed to realize that submissiveness and subservience are two totally different things. Nor is it a concept that scares me – I’m certain enough of who I am and what I want to disallow anyone to overwhelm me or push me in a direction I don’t want to go it. It’s a gift to be given, not a trait to be trampled on.

I am bored.

I mentioned before I was worried the boredom would lead to acting out… Let me revise that. I am somewhat concerned that my need for excitement will distract from the productive path I am hellbent on following. But the fact that my standards for interpersonal relationships has changed so dramatically, makes me disregard any worry I might have.

I’ve also verified for myself that hookups won’t do it for me. While I think a night of debauchery will help my boredom, I’ve realized I’m actually very selective about who I’d want to share that with. I think that’s healthy.

Connected to that is my issue with being touched. While I’m not actively avoiding being touched anymore, I realize I have standards that have to be met for me to be okay with it. Even if it’s my mom. I have to decide that it’s something I want, and then it’s cool.

I’m getting pretty comfortable in my skin. Finding a balance between being completely covered up and being provocative doesn’t really concern me anymore.

So. I’m bored.

Not that I’d ever recommend the type of life I used to have. But I never suffered from boredom. On edge, anxious, terrified, panicked, angry, hurt, enraged… All the time. There was no middle ground, no peace. Black and white. It’s not the emotions themselves I miss, or the cause of those emotions…

Its the fucking INTENSITY of everything.

Living in shades of grey has its downside.

I should probably say something about finding a balance, or compromise… But. Why? I think I can have positive intensity and continue to move forward regardless.

So in the meantime I satisfy my need for intense by listening to music loud enough to make my ears bleed and my head spin.

Intense.

 

Chilled

Posted: February 7, 2012 in abuse, intimacy, relationships
Tags: , , ,

I like to think of myself as a pretty passionate person, in all things. However, I’ve recently begun to realize just how damn cold I am in actuality.

I no longer feel like I can connect to anyone. Like some part of me has fragmented. I do wonder why it’s taken me this long to realize this. But I guess that’s the benefit of long term numbness and dissociation. It has hit me that I have not allowed anyone to get close to me since nearly dying a couple years… And those I have tried to let close, I just push them away.

As much as I appreciate my singlehood, and my freedom… It would be nice to have someone I felt safe enough to let some cracks show through my armor.

Case in point: the one ex I can stand to befriend (barely, at that), pointed out that I pretty much brought my predicament on by myself, by confiding in him too much. He was unable to handle it.

Course, he didn’t say in so many words “It’s your fault”… But trust me, I can hear it.

What I didn’t say, and what I longed to respond was that what I told him was fucking nothing. The tip of a glacier in hell. And honestly, part my telling him things he wishes I didn’t was 1. an attempt at disclosure 2. a test to see if he could handle me… Obviously he couldn’t.

What hit me when he told me this so kindly over the phone, was that being with him was a good way to reinforce the fact that I simply cannot allow anyone to ever be close to me.

Actually, there is one person I know who knows me. And I’ve been pushing away cause his knowledge terrifies me. If he condemned me like everyone else, I would not bat an eye. It’s the acceptance and non-judgement that I cannot take.

How fucked up is that?

As ever, my silence infuriates me.

How could any one else stand my company when I cannot bear to be around myself?

For this post, I want to focus on a quote I recently heard that really struck home with me:

Forgiveness: letting go of the demand that the past be different then it was.

This is not a matter of “forgive and forget”.

Read the quote again. Really read it. I am saying nothing along the lines of “put the past in the past”, or “move forward”, or “simply forget it”. This is a matter of changing a repetitive cycle. It is a matter of not only changing the loop on the tape, but inserting an entirely new cassette and veering in a whole new direction.

Forgiveness is not about him. It is about you.

Recently I have come to a place where I have been able to forgive myself, and thus be more forgiving of those who wronged me.

This is why I had to forgive myself first: I hold so much guilt and such a burden of shame, that I have realized that I not only carry it as a mental and psychological anchor, but it is also physical. You can see the “weight” of my pain in the excess pounds I carry on my frame, which makes my shame visible to others. It is there every time I hear the “voices” berate myself for something I didn’t do “correctly”. It is there every time I take out the anger I feel for myself out on someone else with a raised voice.

I had to forgive myself to save myself from continuing to repeat the same patterns. Forgiveness of self leads to more loving and more gentle feelings. I have noticed I am not as harsh with myself or others. My anger is gone, my anxiety has lessened. I sleep much better, and more consistently. The relationships that were strained due to my rage have improved. And I am now down 11 pounds without putting in much effort, or depriving myself.

Forgiving myself has made me realize that I am getting towards a place where I can forgive others.

But I have to tell you how I define forgiveness first:

To me, forgiveness is acknowledging what happened, and what they did to me, and coming to some form of acceptance in order for me to move on with my life.

By remaining unforgiving, it feels to me like I maintain a bond with my abusers, and that is the last thing I want to do. I do not want to continue to give them power over me. Or to give another man the chance to take my power away.

I have also accepted that I had a role to play in the abusive situations I found myself in. While I did not provoke the actions of others for them to mistreat me, I do acknowledge that because I was abused as a child, there was something in me looking to “repair” the abuse. The fact that almost every relationship repeated the pattern forced me to look at my own behaviour and what responsibility I held.

I was trying to change the past. But by trying to change the past, I was blind to the future I could possibly have. I was blind to the possibilities open to me. I was blind to my own talents and potential that was being wasted by men who were not worth my time.

It is not possible to forget what has happened. The abuse has formed me into the person I am today, and even though I wish the journey had been different, I am starting to like who I am.

I remember the past so that my future can be different. And I forgive that past, so I can have a brighter future.

Stay safe ❤

Often we end up asking ourselves, can he change?

If he goes to therapy, if he takes pills, if we go to couples counseling, will that help?

If I am quieter, more submissive, if I learn to listen better, maybe he will be different…

If I just stood up for myself, maybe he would back down…

The thoughts go on and on, often in repetitive circular motions. But there is never any resolutions to those thoughts. Abusers don’t allow for that. They keep you off balance. That is their talent….

But, I digress.

As to whether there can be any change within the man abusing you, or who has abused you, here is my take, based on my own experience with men, my research, and the evolution of my thought-process from victim to survivor.

In a nutshell — no — he will not change.

Therapy is often a “school” for abusers to hone their talents. If they can con professionals into believing they have made progress, are remorseful, and are willing to change, abusers know they will have you, already their victim, wrapped around their little finger.

Therapy is where abusers learn to better control the mask of civility they wear in everyday life. You know, that other side of him that is so charming and affable. The side, that when it comes out that you have been abused, others will say, “X abused Y? No way! He’s such a nice guy!”.

Abusers are the ultimate con artists, pure psychopath.

Therapy is a place for them to learn that there actually ARE consequences to their behaviour. But instead of making them better, this can in fact make them more deadly and dangerous, as they might not be willing to leave a “witness” to his mask slipping when next in a rage. They become more calculating, more even heeled, and more observant of our behaviours, actions, and reactions, and base their behaviour upon that.

Have no doubt of this: abusers are born damaged. There is something within them that has made them undoubtedly different then you and I. Forgetting that can be incredibly dangerous.

But it is also amazingly empowering. Once you have internalized and fully accepted that abusers are inherently different, and that nothing on heaven or earth could possibly change their essential being, you have the upper hand.

By internalizing the message that they are different, a subspecies of humanoid matter, you can begin to untangle the emotional mess that he, the abuser, has placed you in. And learn what it takes to steer clear of men like him in the future.

Stay safe ❤