NAVEL GAZING, 2K14 VERSION
hey livejournal, remember me?
as i said last time i posted, i don't think anyone is even around here anymore, but livejournal was always the first place i turned to for stream of consciousness nonsense when i am working shit out, so hi! nice to see you again. apparently i'm here to work shit out. (who needs a therapist when you have livejournal? that should definitely be worked into their marketing scheme.)
as i mentioned before, james and i have moved into this non-monogamy thing (which apparently i can't call it anything other than "this non-monogamy thing"), and wow. i remember reading the ethical slut yeeeeears ago and feeling like it unlocked all this shit, AND NOW...well, this. strangely enough, this change has made my relationship with james...stronger? better? different in some way but also not different at all? it feels like it was an inevitable step but nevertheless i find the complete loss of a relationship script throwing me on my ass. the intricacies of intimacy always feel strange and foreign, no matter how often i practice them. everything may be a skill, but boy, some things never get better with practice.
i don't feel like a raw wound these days, but i still feel strangely uncomfortable being in my own skin. supposedly this goes away at thirty; hey thirty, come and get me. i'm waiting for you. blah blah, alternating self-loathing and delusions of grandeur--what the fuck else is new?
i think all this ties into the fact that i don't trust people to like me? i am inherently apprehensive of people, especially when they are kind to me. especially when i let them see me, actually, the real thing, and they respond and i know that in the past i made a practice of pushing those people away. get too close? bye bye. i can't fucking handle the idea of someone actually digging me without wanting to get something from me, even if i don't know what that thing would be. it's an absolutely selfish, knee-jerk reaction to generosity, and it needs to be undone. and ultimately, an unkind act to everyone involved (plus, it forces their hand to be mean in return, which is just...what is wrong with me? stop it.)
it's what i did to arthur, which to this day i absolutely regret. he was so unbelievably kind to me, and i just slowly drove him away. i reached out to him recently to apologize, and to make sure i wasn't making him uncomfortable with my casual interactions with him on the internet. i'm so thankful he wrote back, but still. what a terrible thing to do to someone who did nothing but be pretty wonderful.
rebuilding is on the to-do list.
still, the practice of vulnerability makes me feel like myself again, although the transition may kill me; i've barely been eating or sleeping and have been smoking way too much. reaching equilibrium is something that needs to happen soon; i may be young but jesus i am too old for this shit. grow up, lizz. grow. up.
as i said last time i posted, i don't think anyone is even around here anymore, but livejournal was always the first place i turned to for stream of consciousness nonsense when i am working shit out, so hi! nice to see you again. apparently i'm here to work shit out. (who needs a therapist when you have livejournal? that should definitely be worked into their marketing scheme.)
as i mentioned before, james and i have moved into this non-monogamy thing (which apparently i can't call it anything other than "this non-monogamy thing"), and wow. i remember reading the ethical slut yeeeeears ago and feeling like it unlocked all this shit, AND NOW...well, this. strangely enough, this change has made my relationship with james...stronger? better? different in some way but also not different at all? it feels like it was an inevitable step but nevertheless i find the complete loss of a relationship script throwing me on my ass. the intricacies of intimacy always feel strange and foreign, no matter how often i practice them. everything may be a skill, but boy, some things never get better with practice.
i don't feel like a raw wound these days, but i still feel strangely uncomfortable being in my own skin. supposedly this goes away at thirty; hey thirty, come and get me. i'm waiting for you. blah blah, alternating self-loathing and delusions of grandeur--what the fuck else is new?
i think all this ties into the fact that i don't trust people to like me? i am inherently apprehensive of people, especially when they are kind to me. especially when i let them see me, actually, the real thing, and they respond and i know that in the past i made a practice of pushing those people away. get too close? bye bye. i can't fucking handle the idea of someone actually digging me without wanting to get something from me, even if i don't know what that thing would be. it's an absolutely selfish, knee-jerk reaction to generosity, and it needs to be undone. and ultimately, an unkind act to everyone involved (plus, it forces their hand to be mean in return, which is just...what is wrong with me? stop it.)
it's what i did to arthur, which to this day i absolutely regret. he was so unbelievably kind to me, and i just slowly drove him away. i reached out to him recently to apologize, and to make sure i wasn't making him uncomfortable with my casual interactions with him on the internet. i'm so thankful he wrote back, but still. what a terrible thing to do to someone who did nothing but be pretty wonderful.
rebuilding is on the to-do list.
still, the practice of vulnerability makes me feel like myself again, although the transition may kill me; i've barely been eating or sleeping and have been smoking way too much. reaching equilibrium is something that needs to happen soon; i may be young but jesus i am too old for this shit. grow up, lizz. grow. up.