Saturday, May 8, 2010
I had three drinks last night at the dueling piano bar. That’s a LOT for someone who only drinks about 1-2 times a year. I felt like crying, but tried to hide it by smiling and clapping along to the music.
Two of the servers commented that they’d never seen me drink before. I was ashamed, not because of drinking, but for being recognized. I feel shame when I exit my role of “stranger in the corner that no one knows, noticed, or cares about.”
That’s how I felt, growing up, especially in middle and high school (ages 11–17); that feeling maxed out in my late teens and early 20s, until I finally “rebelled” by completely leaving the family: the ultimate way to fulfill the role of being neglected, unwanted, and unloved.
I freak out when people notice me and recognize me. It’s even worse if they remember my name. And to pile on friendliness, kindness, and compassion on top of that? It just feels overwhelming and too much to bear. Perhaps the tears last night were grieving tears, being sad for what I did not receive in my youth.
GETTING “HIGH” ON SEDUCTION
New book: “Lust, Anger, Love,” by Maureen Canning.
The beginning of the book describes prostitutes; they didn’t care about their clients. They only wanted money for drugs.
In Sept-Oct 2009, I wasn’t after drugs. I was after a sexual fantasy “high;” and also the “high” of being in control of a guy. I might have also been after the possibility of being special to the guys. I’d put on an “innocent act” and pretend like it was new to me. In a way, the sexual activity was new, being online and certainly then meeting in person.
But I’d been in the practice of seducing guys for at least 10 years.
It started with just dancing, at clubs. I was always hoping to find true love. I think the only time when I actually used guys for sex was Sept-Oct 2009. The previous times were using them to feel loved, I guess.
I wasn’t after drugs, like the prostitutes. I was after love, acceptance, nurturing, kindness, compassion, and caring—all the things I felt like I didn’t get from my family. All the while, thinking that THIS time will be different! THIS time I’ll get them to stay. But I didn’t really want them to stay. If they did, then I’d end up finding an excuse to leave, since I feared intimacy so intensely.
If love is good, if intimacy is healthy, then why the fuck are these things so scary to me?
I guess the pain of the realization of parental neglect and their emotional abandonment is so great that I can’t handle being treated any other way, because I’d just break down and never stop crying. Or possibly kill myself for real, this time.
I bought two candles, tall. One is black, for releasing negative things from my life. The other is white, for bringing in new things to my life.
|WHAT DO I WANT TO ATTRACT?
||WHAT DO I WANT TO GET RID OF?