i've been my own psychologist for years
So, I'm back again. Sooner than I thought too. But a lot of things have been rolling around in my head and I figured the best way to perhaps make some sense of all of it is to perhaps write it out. Maybe seeing it in black and white might give me more insight into my already over analytical mind.
The job hunt continues and frankly, has been the cause of a lot of grief and panic the last month or so. With bills looming over my head and the desire for the change I've been dreaming of for what seems like forever, it has all been overwhelming. It almost seemed as if the more I thought about it, the more I actively avoided it. I don't know if it was on some subconscious level that despite the fact that I've been yearning for this change, to move on past my shitty part time job and be able to save money and move forward finally, the thought of leaving the safety of that security blanket really started to freak me out. Of course I have been telling myself to shut the fuck up and the idea of change is always more scary than it actually is. Still, even now I have this subtle undercurrent of tension and worry just under the surface. A slight clenching of my muscles that never goes away until I sleep. I know eventually I will get a job and this feeling of dangling off the side of a cliff will finally go away and I can breath again. I'm hoping it's sooner rather than later because my nerve are shot, and for being a person who's feathers are not easily ruffled, being at this almost constant state of worry is starting to drive me crazy.
In other non job related things, sex and men have been coming up a lot for me lately. Now, for being as inexperienced as I am (to be a 23 year old virgin and literally never been in a relationship of any kind, even the meaningless junior high or high school nonsense, woe is me), I am not a prude or "saving it for marriage" or anything virtuous like that. To put it as simply as possible, with being insecure about my body the best way I knew to avoid disappointment and inevitably crushing heartache, I decided to take the offensive angle and stick to the idea that it was me who was snubbing my nose at love and relationships before it could do it to me first. Now, I've never been the mushy, sappy girl that wishes for a prince charming or hope to have a husband and a house full of kids, but one thing I've always envisioned for myself was a very prosperous sex life. I've never been one to shy away from the topic of sex, always eager to live vicariously through the sex lives of my friends instead and urging them to go out and try new things and be a silly slut if they wanted. And for a long while now, I've been almost successful at convincing myself that that was enough and that perhaps one day things would happen for me as well. But now that I'm 23 and things still seem to be pretty dismal, I'm starting to realize that not all of it is because of lack of interest from men as I usually blame my lack of sex life on. It's becoming painfully aware that as the time goes on, my unease and almost natural self sabotage is what inevitably ruins any chances I may have. Because I've allowed my love life to be so dead for so long, I'm literally stuck at that awkward junior high level of dating anxiety. Big parts of me are still insanely insecure with my body and I doubt if the real chance at having sex presented itself tomorrow, I still probably wouldn't be able to go through with it, despite how bad I want it right now. I know I have a long way to go, body image wise and mentally, but I feel like it's closer to being a real possibility than it used to be. I've always envisioned myself as a very free person sexually, and I feel that I am a very sensual person and I'd love to let that out. Or perhaps I've just reached such a high level of sexual frustration that playing with myself is just getting to the point of ridiculous. Half baked orgasms by your own hand is never as good, and I don't need to have had sex to know that.
So I guess the best way to summarize this post would be that right now I'm working on all the things that I feel are incomplete in my life. I've been walking around with huge voids in my soul and my life that sadly, I was starting to get used to them. I don't want to be this shell of a person living a shade of what life could be. I want to live the life I see in my head at night, the one where I'm living my dream of being a makeup artist in LA and New York, having fun and having great sex, making awesome friendships with interesting people and letting go and feeling free. I know I'm not there yet, but I believe it's possible and that's the only thing I can cling to right now. So for now, I'm going to keep moving forward and putting the pieces together one by one. I'm a work in progress.
The job hunt continues and frankly, has been the cause of a lot of grief and panic the last month or so. With bills looming over my head and the desire for the change I've been dreaming of for what seems like forever, it has all been overwhelming. It almost seemed as if the more I thought about it, the more I actively avoided it. I don't know if it was on some subconscious level that despite the fact that I've been yearning for this change, to move on past my shitty part time job and be able to save money and move forward finally, the thought of leaving the safety of that security blanket really started to freak me out. Of course I have been telling myself to shut the fuck up and the idea of change is always more scary than it actually is. Still, even now I have this subtle undercurrent of tension and worry just under the surface. A slight clenching of my muscles that never goes away until I sleep. I know eventually I will get a job and this feeling of dangling off the side of a cliff will finally go away and I can breath again. I'm hoping it's sooner rather than later because my nerve are shot, and for being a person who's feathers are not easily ruffled, being at this almost constant state of worry is starting to drive me crazy.
In other non job related things, sex and men have been coming up a lot for me lately. Now, for being as inexperienced as I am (to be a 23 year old virgin and literally never been in a relationship of any kind, even the meaningless junior high or high school nonsense, woe is me), I am not a prude or "saving it for marriage" or anything virtuous like that. To put it as simply as possible, with being insecure about my body the best way I knew to avoid disappointment and inevitably crushing heartache, I decided to take the offensive angle and stick to the idea that it was me who was snubbing my nose at love and relationships before it could do it to me first. Now, I've never been the mushy, sappy girl that wishes for a prince charming or hope to have a husband and a house full of kids, but one thing I've always envisioned for myself was a very prosperous sex life. I've never been one to shy away from the topic of sex, always eager to live vicariously through the sex lives of my friends instead and urging them to go out and try new things and be a silly slut if they wanted. And for a long while now, I've been almost successful at convincing myself that that was enough and that perhaps one day things would happen for me as well. But now that I'm 23 and things still seem to be pretty dismal, I'm starting to realize that not all of it is because of lack of interest from men as I usually blame my lack of sex life on. It's becoming painfully aware that as the time goes on, my unease and almost natural self sabotage is what inevitably ruins any chances I may have. Because I've allowed my love life to be so dead for so long, I'm literally stuck at that awkward junior high level of dating anxiety. Big parts of me are still insanely insecure with my body and I doubt if the real chance at having sex presented itself tomorrow, I still probably wouldn't be able to go through with it, despite how bad I want it right now. I know I have a long way to go, body image wise and mentally, but I feel like it's closer to being a real possibility than it used to be. I've always envisioned myself as a very free person sexually, and I feel that I am a very sensual person and I'd love to let that out. Or perhaps I've just reached such a high level of sexual frustration that playing with myself is just getting to the point of ridiculous. Half baked orgasms by your own hand is never as good, and I don't need to have had sex to know that.
So I guess the best way to summarize this post would be that right now I'm working on all the things that I feel are incomplete in my life. I've been walking around with huge voids in my soul and my life that sadly, I was starting to get used to them. I don't want to be this shell of a person living a shade of what life could be. I want to live the life I see in my head at night, the one where I'm living my dream of being a makeup artist in LA and New York, having fun and having great sex, making awesome friendships with interesting people and letting go and feeling free. I know I'm not there yet, but I believe it's possible and that's the only thing I can cling to right now. So for now, I'm going to keep moving forward and putting the pieces together one by one. I'm a work in progress.