Work is going well.
Just felt like doing a general rant. I'm worried a little about my mental health. It's become pretty obvious I'm addicted to sex and self-medicating with it. When I'm not pursuing sexual activity or working, I'm struggling to get enough sleep and keep myself fed. I've been looking for a place to live recently and I found a pretty nice place out near Holdom skytrain with hardwood floors. Hardwood floors are important because I'm physically incapable of vacuuming. Well in theory I can do it a bit but it hurts me still. I'm not sure whether to hope I get it or keep looking. I have concerns that I'll find someplace slightly cheaper that's a little closer to a skytrain station, or a place to buy groceries, but it's nice, though small.
I was listening to Patsy Cline at work and singing along softly. It made me miss that certain someone very much. I'd at least like to make up with him, but sadly it doesn't seem to be a priority on his end.
It also caused some weird thoughts because I heard recently that my biological mother also likes doing karaoke, and surprise, she also likes singing Patsy Cline. I guess our voices must be similar, though I never made particular note of it the handful of times I saw her.
I've been thinking about finishing my Watchmen fanfic series, Dichotomy. A lot of things I've experienced the past few months are probably fairly analogous to some things Rorschach might have felt.
I'm aware I should probably be writing instead of having copious amounts of empty sex as a release mechanism. It's just not the same. I can't seem to write fiction anymore, just crap about my personal life. At least sexual activity distances me from my own mind for awhile. I feel mired in my own skin in a way I can't explain, trapped inside of my own head. Reading helps a little, but when I'm not the loneliness I feel just consumes me. It doesn't help that barely any of my friends talk to me and when I do try to make plans they flake. Then again, back when I was seeing friends regularly I still felt like the black loneliness was still slowly swallowing me whole.
I'm thinking I should start looking for professional help, but I'm not entirely sure I'm ready. It's just a lot to deal with. I had a friend who is practically married proposition me to help me cheat on his girlfriend and it's done a number on my head. I said no. If I can't have who I want, I at least want someone who has a chance of having feelings for me at some point. No matter how much sex I have, it's hard to find anyone really into me. Hell, the couple of becoming regular partners I have, don't bother complimenting me. One didn't even get up to greet me the last couple of times I saw him (to be fair he is under a lot of stress). I've got a friend who's trying to get a threesome organized with me, and he's talked me into going to Acadia beach with him sometime while he's in town. Apparently people just are on display and randomly fuck each-other there. I like the idea, particularly that it could lead to multiple partners at the same time in very short order. It's true that this is stuff I've always been into and wanted to explore, and that now is as good a time as any to take the opportunity, but...
I'm not sure if I'm taking it too far or not. It's true too that this is a good distraction, but I should probably find another hobby. I wanted to take up marksmanship, but finding the time is pretty difficult. I don't have the money right now with trying to move and having no furniture either, lol.
Psychologically... I have a lot of needs. I know it's unwise to rely on strangers to help with them. I'm just so lonely and hurting so much inside it's hard not to turn to the one thing that temporarily drowns it out and clears my head. I'm not even sure I do want to stop. I usually play it pretty safe and I'm not hurting anyone... just worried I might be hurting myself. But it's better than spending time alone cooped up in my sister's basement wishing someone wanted to make love to me, stroke my hair and speak to me softly, right? it's got to be better to hope I'll get lucky and find that again than dwelling on what I no longer have...
Dwelling on how things are messed up between both groups of friends I have, and how it's rare for anyone to contact me for not-sex these days. Dwelling on just how many people aren't talking to me right now (at least four if not five). Dwelling on how much I hate living in Cloverdale. Dwelling on how much I miss my old friend, and how incomprehensible that entire relationship is. I have a lot of things to not think about.
I was listening to Patsy Cline at work and singing along softly. It made me miss that certain someone very much. I'd at least like to make up with him, but sadly it doesn't seem to be a priority on his end.
It also caused some weird thoughts because I heard recently that my biological mother also likes doing karaoke, and surprise, she also likes singing Patsy Cline. I guess our voices must be similar, though I never made particular note of it the handful of times I saw her.
I've been thinking about finishing my Watchmen fanfic series, Dichotomy. A lot of things I've experienced the past few months are probably fairly analogous to some things Rorschach might have felt.
I'm aware I should probably be writing instead of having copious amounts of empty sex as a release mechanism. It's just not the same. I can't seem to write fiction anymore, just crap about my personal life. At least sexual activity distances me from my own mind for awhile. I feel mired in my own skin in a way I can't explain, trapped inside of my own head. Reading helps a little, but when I'm not the loneliness I feel just consumes me. It doesn't help that barely any of my friends talk to me and when I do try to make plans they flake. Then again, back when I was seeing friends regularly I still felt like the black loneliness was still slowly swallowing me whole.
I'm thinking I should start looking for professional help, but I'm not entirely sure I'm ready. It's just a lot to deal with. I had a friend who is practically married proposition me to help me cheat on his girlfriend and it's done a number on my head. I said no. If I can't have who I want, I at least want someone who has a chance of having feelings for me at some point. No matter how much sex I have, it's hard to find anyone really into me. Hell, the couple of becoming regular partners I have, don't bother complimenting me. One didn't even get up to greet me the last couple of times I saw him (to be fair he is under a lot of stress). I've got a friend who's trying to get a threesome organized with me, and he's talked me into going to Acadia beach with him sometime while he's in town. Apparently people just are on display and randomly fuck each-other there. I like the idea, particularly that it could lead to multiple partners at the same time in very short order. It's true that this is stuff I've always been into and wanted to explore, and that now is as good a time as any to take the opportunity, but...
I'm not sure if I'm taking it too far or not. It's true too that this is a good distraction, but I should probably find another hobby. I wanted to take up marksmanship, but finding the time is pretty difficult. I don't have the money right now with trying to move and having no furniture either, lol.
Psychologically... I have a lot of needs. I know it's unwise to rely on strangers to help with them. I'm just so lonely and hurting so much inside it's hard not to turn to the one thing that temporarily drowns it out and clears my head. I'm not even sure I do want to stop. I usually play it pretty safe and I'm not hurting anyone... just worried I might be hurting myself. But it's better than spending time alone cooped up in my sister's basement wishing someone wanted to make love to me, stroke my hair and speak to me softly, right? it's got to be better to hope I'll get lucky and find that again than dwelling on what I no longer have...
Dwelling on how things are messed up between both groups of friends I have, and how it's rare for anyone to contact me for not-sex these days. Dwelling on just how many people aren't talking to me right now (at least four if not five). Dwelling on how much I hate living in Cloverdale. Dwelling on how much I miss my old friend, and how incomprehensible that entire relationship is. I have a lot of things to not think about.