|
|
06.29.07 - 7:05 p.m. i got cut off. A list of things that make me feel, now: beer (lots) cigarettes (lots) weed (a fair amount)sex (more than usual) oddly enough, these are the things i was using before the meds to not feel. A top over my heart. I guess that ive probably felt this way for a long time. One of my students wrote a research paper about "Rejection Sensitive Females" and of course, i fit all the criteria. Childhood Sexual Abuse, Fear of Abandonment, etc. Apparantly when dans says he feels i am just "waiting for him to fuck up" im actually just experiencing "an undue and excessive awareness of, and sensitivity to, the behavior and feelings of others." Well, ive always been that way. Apparantly we have some difficulty forming intimate relationships in adulthood. I dont have so much problems with the intimacy, but certainly with the trust. "As Childhood Sexual Abuse occurs in an interpersonal context, it may disrupt the normal developmental processes of learning to trust and form stable and secure relationships with others." Dan doesnt like to think this way. He likes to think that i am "well adjusted" which i guess, based on movies of people like me, i am. I dont walk around and cry in the rain or cut myself (anymore) or get drunk and show up at peoples houses or leave town and get found in a train station mumbling with mascara smeared all over my face. I function, so well, that OTHER people flock to me, find me, and tell me all of their problems, lay their shit on me. Which i am apparantly looking for. I also find that its more difficult to stay focused and say what i mean to say, or maybe i am just looking for an excuse to explain my laziness with writing. I guess its not really lazy, i write obsessively, but only the kind that makes me feel better the fastest. I feel better after writing fiction, but its like an exercise better, like you feel better after running than you do while getting drunk, but both feel better and ones much easier. Dans asleep in my bed. I made him have sex with me, ive done it all day. I dont know why--it makes me feel powerful? or adored or desired or anything that means hes going to stay. Guys are so easy: breathe heavy, rub on his cock, make it seem like your most favorite thing, and scene. I dont know how other people deal with their stress. I guess i must just have an impossibly low stress tolerance because im at the shrink, talking it ALL out, at the slightest hint of irritation. It always feels like the straws about to break the camels back. Therapy feels like standing next to the camel and gaurding its burden. Theres plenty i feel ill never attend to in therapy, most things, but its just the straw that im afraid of. Who knows. Sometimes i feel like i just build up a fake me so that i dont have to deal with the real one. If there is a real one. I guess it goes back to the understudys. And this: At the Turkish Restaurant, i said "Slowly but Surely" to him, and hes so curious about the language and he says..."Slowly but surely"..."Fastly but surely? and i have to say, well, no, not fastly but surely. Why? he asks me. And i think of a million reasons why--because america is a culture built on speed. The tortoise and the hare, etc etc etc. But i cant think of anything concise and he says how inflexible we are, how inflexible our language is, that in his country, there are two sides to the coin, if it can go one way, it can go the other. Were not like that, though we should be. As human beings, me, i want to be so black and white. This or that. Im getting far, far away from my point. I would like to do some coke tonight. Though it gives me a sinus infection everytime. Which i need like a hole in the head. � 
|