From My Rotting Body Flowers Shall Grow

I've been crying for 27 years. I'm not sure when it switched from crying because I was hungry to crying because I hated myself. I wonder how soon self-hatred can begin, because I feel like it's always been there, like it's a part of me. I hated that I was shy. I hated that I was naughty. I hated my clothes. I hated that I didn't know what to do to fit in. I hated that I was smart, but I felt dumb. I hated my voice, my teeth, my bones, the bags under my eyes, the breasts that didn't grow. The things I created, the love that I gave that was never enough--if my awkward hands touched it, my small mouth spoke it, or my simple mind thought it, then it must be terrible just like me. I cried over all these things. But that wasn't enough so I cried longer and harder. I cried the air out of my lungs in the shower till all the hot water was gone. And when I looked in the mirror at my pink, puffy face, I cried at how ugly my crying made me. Eventually the words weren't giving me what I deserved. So the razor did. The first time I cut myself was on my hip bones. Those horrible, jutting, bony, ugly hip bones. I felt bad for people who had to look at me, and every time my pants rubbed against my wounds, justice was being served. But then the guilt would set in for doing something so disgusting. Eventually this was all too much and I decided it was time to go. Vodka, pills, and a long vertical incision in a hot bath was the plan. I traced the veins in my arms, imagining what it would be like to actually go through with it. My self-hatred might be the thing that saved me--I told myself I was too stupid to actually make it work. I don't know what my mom said to me, but I'll never forget the moment I blurted out, "Do you know I know the exact way I want to die?" My parents sat me down and talked to me, and all I can remember was my dad telling me he'd do anything for me.

I am the most precious, invaluable thing on this earth. Simply being born made me that way. I am someone's child, and to take that away would cause the most unimaginable pain. So for now, that keeps me here. I deal with the pain and loneliness and sadness because ending it for me wouldn't really be ending it; it would just be giving it to them. So here I am at 27, still crying. I don't remember what I did on my 27th birthday. I didn't tell people it was my birthday, and for a few months I thought I was 28. Still, when people ask me, I start to say 28. Although I've thought about it a lot I can't figure out why this little nuance happened. But in thinking about it I realized I can't imagine being 29. Sure, 28. But when imagining the future, it doesn't go past there. The feeling runs so deep that if I hit 29 I will be genuinely confused. It's so strong that I couldn't write that sentence with "when" instead of "if." Maybe next year I'll start going backwards like Benjamin Button. I'll go all the way back to the moment that little seed of hate started growing, say, "You're beautiful," and maybe even feel happy.

Never Saw This One Coming

It was hard to fight my feelings for Chill. Even though I knew he was wrong for me and wasn't giving me what I needed, I just liked being liked. I slept with him, and I planned on avoiding the cuddle to prevent further attachment, but those feelings in my heart just felt so good. I was worried that things were ending because our contacts had declined, but I always worry things are ending so it seemed normal. I called him before I went on vacation and we had an average conversation. While I was away, I forwarded him the birth control reminder text I had signed up for. It was cheesy, something like "water balloon fights get you wet which means you have to take your clothes off. Put in your nuvaring and toss one at the guy you like." He texted back 'yaaaa no thanks' so I said "uh ok fine I'll keep em on" thinking he might be referring to the lameness of it and that he'd text back about wanting me to take my clothes off. But this is what I got back: "dont waste the ring either lol". And that my friends, was how I got dumped this time. I tried calling but he texted that he couldn't talk now because he was working and then had an early flight. Because I still didn't understand what was happening, I continued to text and call over the next couple days. Since he didn't respond, I knew he had ditched me so I just wanted some kind of closure. I called his work this morning, which finally prompted him to give me the closure I needed in the form of this text: "Really? Tracking down my work number-after me being very obvious that I do not want to continue talking to/seeing you? That is CRAZY. There is NOTHING going on, clearly. And if it still isn't clear: Do not write me, do not call me, do not text me, do not stalk me on linkedin, and do not send anything to my work. If you are looking for an explanation, I simply do not see any kind of future for us, EVER. I'm sorry, but that's it." WOW. I don't think I've ever had anyone be so MEAN. I've been hurt more than a few times, but the guys have always given me an honest explanation and felt bad about it.

I can't stop crying. I'm so hurt. I've been hurt so many times. I wish this whole experience would have just confirmed that I really do want to remain single, but actually it's done the opposite. I realized that I do want a husband and children. I want to be loved more than anything, and I have so much love to give. But to find that means risking this pain all over again God knows how many times, and I really don't think I can handle it. And I REALLY mean that. My boss let me leave work today because I burst into tears with her, and I can't imagine how I'm going to go in tomorrow. Here is something I wrote in my journal last night: "I closed my eyes on the freeway today. I could feel the car moving as the sun seeped through my eyelids. The tears pushed and burned to get out. I want to die. I want to die so bad but I just can't do it. I don't know if it's fear or hope keeping me alive, but it's only a thread."

I've been thinking about finding a therapist, but now I've reached that point where I know without a doubt I need help. I'm seriously thinking about calling my psychiatrist to see if I can get some time off work. I went off Paxil because I thought it might be giving me sexual side effects, but maybe I need to be on it because I haven't been able to fight off this depression. For now, my mommy will have to do. My friends have been so supportive, but I feel like I just need to be near my mom.

Taming The Crazy

Will I ever be able to stop The Crazy?! I don't know that I've ever explained what I mean by The Crazy. It's that obsessive, anxious state I get in when I like a guy. The wheels start turning and I convince myself he's going to leave. I know it stems from my anxious attachment as a child. I was loved and never had one experience that even came close to abuse or neglect. But because of my inborn temperament and maybe my parents' anxiety, I was always anxious about my needs being met or our trust being broken. I learned not to express much emotion, which in turn made my parents have to guess what I needed from them. We weren't in tune, and so developed the anxious attachment. I KNOW this is why I am the way I am. I sort of know how to treat a person with attachment issues. But I haven't quite figured out how to solve this problem for myself.

The Crazy started to rear its head a bit this weekend. Chill told me he would come over on the 4th of July. I pictured a day rolling around in bed followed by fireworks (literal fireworks, not the mushy gushy orgasmic kind). But then he changes his mind and spends the day with his family. And out of nowhere the feelings hit me. I was pissed at him for flaking and then I started worrying that my feelings for him would get stronger, which will make things hurt more in the end. I thought about just quitting right then to prevent any future complications. And then I thought maybe I shouldn't have sex with him because sex releases chemicals that make you have stronger feelings for a person. But then I reminded myself that I haven't had sex in two and a half years due to my intense fear of HPV and cervical cancer, and thought, 'FUCK THAT SHIT I NEED TO GET LAID.' This led to my google search for how to suppress said chemicals and how to avoid falling in love. Turns out suppression of those chemicals is possible, but has only been tested on some little rodent things, so that's out. One psychiatrist said it might be possible by taking high doses of Prozac to numb all emotions. I'm already on a shit-ton of meds and I'm nowhere near numb so that lady needs to get her facts straight. It was comforting to know that a great deal of people have also searched for how to avoid falling in love, though. One response at http://www.experienceproject.com/question-answer/Is-It-Possible-To-Stop-Yourself-From-Falling-In-Love/1536 was very profound to me. User Duana said "it is possible to stop yourself from falling in love is [sic] because at the very heart of love is free will. If you can't stop it long enough to make your own choice about it- it is not really love- you are being swept away by something else." The reiteration that this is my choice brought back my sense of control and immediately relief swept over me. So, until next time, The Crazy has been abated :) Now I can go back to just being horny. I mentioned my sexual frustration in a text message convo with Chill. His response was 'sorry, I tend to take it slow...soooo prepare accordingly :)' WTF does that mean?! Rub it out before our dates? It's time for a wax? Go buy condoms?

So anyways, besides my constant fantasizing about my next contraction of HPV, my latest obsession has been...drum roll please...FERTILITY AWARENESS/NATURAL FAMILY PLANNING! So lame, right? But seriously, I find it absolutely fascinating. The fact that our bodies are constantly working to create life and the fact that I can become so attuned with what's going on in my body is just so friggin' amazing. I've learned so much about my body, and I love that there's this whole online community with a common set of acronyms. I'm jumping on the bandwagon and will be recording my basal body temperature and cervical mucus/position. I even bought some ovulation and pregnancy tests. I'm totally NOT planning/expecting/wanting a pregnancy, but I've been sexually active for ten years (um okay, maybe subtract the last two) and have never taken a pregnancy test. It just feels like it's an experience every woman has that I've missed out on. Which probably speaks to my awesomeness at protected sex, but I want to pee on a stick like all the other girls, damnit! Oh PS, I'm on Nuvaring (for acne) so my results won't be typical. I think it will be cool to compare with a friend of mine who isn't on birth control. Plus, sometimes I take acne medication that messes with birth control so I'll get a better idea of how that affects things.

Alright, one last thing. As I was watching trying to conceive vlogs, I stumbled upon a video of a girl's wedding. As soon as Canon started playing, my eyes welled up. I was hit with the fact that even though my mind is set on Plan B, my heart still truly wants Plan A. Chill is not so keen on marriage (his outlook seems very similar to Aaron Karo [http://www.ruminations.com/column/176]) and he is pretty much disgusted by babies. So even though I have a man-friend (which is what I'll call him forever because he thinks the "defining the relationship" conversation is silly and middle-schoolish because you should just know what the status is based on how the relationship is going [sidenote: I HATE when people say they're exclusive but not "boyfriend/girlfriend." They're one in the same, and I'm not going to be exclusive if you're afraid of titles...and no exclusivity means condoms EVERY TIME, including oral]). Bottom-line I still have some work to do to fully get over Plan A. Oy, somebody get me some Prozac.

Oh, Hey.

Oh hey there, blog. It's been awhile :) The last post was "Done," and I really was done. Done with dating, and I am still done!!! I don't know if that's normal, but "normal" to most girls is go out with a flurry of boys until one puts up with you and then you latch yourself to him and ignore everything that's wrong with the relationship so you can achieve your dream of getting married and having babies, after which you use all your strength to keep that boy married to you so it appears as if you have the perfect life...the perfect mom, the perfect wife, the perfect life. I sound bitter, don't I? All my friends said I was bitter and would go back to wanting all of that. But six months later, I haven't. I finished out my Match subscription and celebrated that day in February. Free at last! I'm free from that obsession with finding "The One" who will be "The Husband" and "The Father." I wasn't happy with being free at first. Being free meant I had to pursue a different path in life where I focus on my career, travel, adoption, friends, family, and me being with me. See, I can't just say to myself, 'whatever happens, happens.' I have to plan and set goals and MAKE what happens, happen. And working toward a goal that wasn't happening was ruining my life. So if I create a goal that I actually have control over, I can keep myself sane. And if I accidentally end up on path #1 with a husband and children, then at least I can have fun getting there.
So I bet you weren't wondering how not dating affects dating. Well, remember Chill? We were talking on Facebook, and ended up hanging out. Which led to texting all day, late night phone calls, making plans, and basically everything that looks like dating. Except without the crazy. By not dating, I can enjoy my time with him without worrying if he is the one and bla bla bla. He actually commented on how I seem more relaxed this time around.
So yeah, I'm not going to idealize this and imagine that I've made my life perfect with this new view. I realize I have feelings for him and that means inevitably feelings will get hurt at some point no matter what happens. But this is what used to happen: I'd start having feelings, which would trigger my fear of getting hurt, which would convince me of the impending demise of the relationship, which would trigger the depression and the crazy, which would trigger the end of the relationship...all before the relationship even started. I would actually cry about how the guy didn't like me and how it didn't work out while we were still dating. Imagine going through the pain of a breakup the whole duration of a relationship, and then having to go through that pain again when the relationship actually ends. It HURTS. But this time, it doesn't <3

Done

I did it. Broke up with The Artist. I did it over facebook chat because he started talking to me on there and I told him I wouldn't be going to his friends' tailgate party. Then I called him and we had a very silent phone conversation. I was crying the whole time and he cried a little bit. He said he doesn't want to be friends because he can't picture how a friendship with me would work. That's the part that I've been crying about for days. There was never a doubt that he's a great person. If I had known he was going to do this I would have waited just so I could see him one last time, have him in my life just a little longer. I feel like a friend of mine has died because I may very well never see him again. He kept saying 'I don't know if I can go through this again' or something like that, referring to how girls always see him as a friend. Well, I don't know if I can go through this again either. I still had a little oomph last time I posted, but feeling this extreme sadness changed things. I have cried in this room too many times over boys that didn't work out. And now I have to work up the nerve all over again, all for something that will most likely end in tears? How do people do it?

Well This is a First

The Artist asked me to be his girlfriend. I said I wasn't ready for a commitment. I've always felt a little unsure about my feelings for him. I didn't want to commit to him and lose out on time meeting other guys if I wasn't confident about us working out. So we kept dating and he has been perfect. But the feelings aren't there. I'm so angry because I found a guy who is caring, makes time for me, wants a commitment, wants to talk about feelings, is supportive, and accepts me just the way I am...but my heart just isn't in it. So I decided today that I need to end it with him, but it made me too sad. Sad for him, and sad for me because then I will be alone. I want to be able to hug him, so now I'm thinking I'll wait till I see him this weekend. I can't wait longer than that, though, because he is planning some surprise weekend for me and I don't want him to spend any more money on me now that I've figured out my feelings.

I love love love knowing that someone cares about me. I'm going to miss it so much. I was emailing a guy on Match, and was getting excited about him. Our emails were long and interesting, but then about a week and a half ago I sent him a response and never got one back. It's rare that I'll get excited about someone online, so that's a real bummer. I only have two more months of my membership. I only emailed 4 people last month, and you're required to email 5 in order to get 6 more months for free. I'll call and see if they'll give it to me anyway. Otherwise, I don't know what is next. Buy another 6 months? Try eharmony? Take a break? Look into matchmakers? I'm not giving up yet!!!

Pink Eye Post

GROSS. I'm home with pink eye. It doesn't itch so people really wouldn't be at risk because it's not on my hands, but it just looks offensive. I had to cancel a family session so the mom called the social worker to tattle on me! Sorry my pink eye is getting in the way of your court mandates!

Anywaayyyyys...dating :D Chill pretty much disappeared. I never responded to his "I really want to hang out with you but blah blah" text. He bored me and doesn't have time for a relationship so I moved on. I met The Artist a couple weeks ago. He is very different than guys I'm usually attracted to. I usually like tall science/business-minded fellows that don't have time or emotional availability for me. This one's a little guy--barely 5'9" and went to The Art Institute. He does animation advertisement type stuff. And photography. He looks like Zac Efron and wears glasses and Chucks and sport coats. I bet he wears scarves in the winter. We look like brother and sister with our little bodies and glasses and straight teeth. It reminds me of a romance you would see in a movie...very quirky and awkward, yet sweet. I'm 100% myself with him even though I tell myself not to be. But I think that might be my tendency to want to scare guys away by being the craziest me I can be. I like him but I'm iffy because I need a guy who will be strong and take care of me, but put me in my place when I need it. He has anxiety, and I've changed the subject twice with him already because I'm just not ready to go there. I probably have the worst anxiety out of anyone you know. Maybe having experienced it, he will be more understanding...but I also worry we will be a big, anxious mess with kids that will need Prozac in their formula (you know me--always thinking about the future kiddos!). My last boyfriend left me partly because he was afraid he would have to go to the emergency room for the rest of his life like he did for his aunt. I've never been to the emergency room for a panic attack, but I guess that's just details. But I haven't told another significant guy since then, and I never planned on relying on a guy to help me with my anxiety. And I don't want anyone who isn't paying for it to rely on me for their anxiety. So now that I'm on the anxiety topic, there's something I've been thinking about nearly every day. I take medication that can't be taken when pregnant or breastfeeding. It also has terrible withdrawals. So in order for me to get pregnant, I will have to quit my job to detox and deal with the anxiety. So I have all these worries about finding a guy who can financially support a family with one income, and put up with the detox and the possibility of me becoming a recluse off meds. It won't be one of those happy pregnancies where you wear cute clothes and have baby showers. I'm picturing a year of laying in bed, shaking and vomiting. Who even wants to knock that up? So yeah, it's a little crazy to be thinking this far into the future, but when things get serious with a guy I'm going to have to tell him that it's that or adoption. I don't think guys really think about adoption till it's the last option. They think, "One day when I'm ready I will spread my seed and that day my wife will get pregnant and in nine months we will have a bigger gene pool and then I can teach my offspring baseball." Clowns. So I can't help but try to be proactive and look for a guy who can handle it and care about me enough to put up with it.