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Yesterday a thin layer of ice blanketed the ground. This morning, it is rain. We've been receiving more and more rain in the late fall - more rain with each passing year. It seems that this year is always wetter than the year before. Screw climate change deniers. I've lived in KC for over a decade now. The weather patterns ARE changing.

Speaking as of people who I thought might be dead - HOLY SHIT RAVENLAKE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN IT HAS BEEN YEARS OMG I AM SO GLAD TO SEE YOU!!!!!!! I WORRIED!!! IT IS OK YOU ARE STILL ALIVE AND KICKING THAT'S WHAT COUNTS BUT OMG I MISSED YOU!!!!!

That. That there. I worry. I wonder. I know that most of us who stop posting do so because they've simply wandered away from Livejournal. The site owners have not always been good to us and a lot of people find they don't really NEED to journal daily, so they move onto other things.

But I worry. I always worry.

Pamela has agreed to be my back up person in making a final post here, should it come to that. I am profoundly honored.

Daha, I hadn't considered that idea. Giving him the link to this place, I mean. I'm not sure if I'd want to....but I'm also not sure what I'd have to lose if I did, either. He and I have no relationship to ruin or to make awkward. And as things currently stand - as things have stood for the last 21 or 22 years - it couldn't possibly be worse than utter silence.

At least on my end. I worry about upsetting him on HIS end. Then again, protecting him from the family history has never done any of us any good. Cassie has already had some access to this journal, at least up till Sept 2012, as I'd accidently left a backup of my LJ on an old computer I gave her. And if this all somehow wound up getting back to my mother and stepfather? So what? What will change? Nothing. They are not in my life now nor do I plan to have them ever again in my life.

So I'm contemplating that idea of yours.

And Cemetary, I also considered your idea about asking David to pay back some of the money I spent on his schooling. But he never paid back any money while I was with him. Hell, he never even TRIED to pay me back for ANYTHING I spent on him during those endless 5 years. If he wouldn't help me out when I was in a relationship with him, I see no reason why he would do so now. It'd be far too much of a hassle to attempt to get any of it back, especially as it would entail having to contact him.

It's a nice thought, though.

Jesse and I had a brief conversation the other night about our plans for the future. About the idea that we both actuallly ARE planning for the future...for **A** future...TOGETHER.

Neither of us are looking to get married. He's got two ex-wives behind him - one he married and divorced at 20 (starter marriages, I think they're called?) and his last wife, whom he was with for five years. He never married the mother of his youngest children, but they were together for 15 years. Same difference. And I, of course, had one marriage AND divorce racked up by the time I turned 28.

I told him that it sometimes still scares me that I am making plans with him that stretch out 10 years, 20 years, longer than that, even. I was relieved and grateful when he echoed similar sentiments. It means both of us take commitment seriously. I'd told Jesse in the beginning that I don't do short relationships. The shortest romantic relationship of my entire adult life was a year - and the next shortest was FIVE years. His history also proves the same.

In this sense, it is a great relief to be with someone who has been married previously. His ideas about marriage are much more sensible than what David thought marriage was. David thought marriage would somehow deepen our love or else prove that we were adults. Jesse and I, both having been there before, know that marriage is a ritual and not nesscarily a change in status.

Jesse says that while he does not want to get married, that doesn't mean he's not looking for that kind of commitment. I nodded, as I feel exactly the same way.

Sometimes I worry that he worries, as young as I am compared to him, that I won't be willing or else won't want a lifetime commitment. He is nearly 43. I am 34. The nine year age difference is really quite negligable at this age. It's not uncommon for couples to have a decade or longer distance between their ages. And I think the mother of his two youngest is roughly my age, perhaps a couple of years older.

But I still get nervous that he gets nervous. I don't think he IS, but maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing for me to ask. After the mess that David made of me, I was initially VERY skittish about any kind of commitment. Even using the word "boyfriend" sent me into mini-hysterics.

That time and that fear has long since passed. While I still get nervous when planning for the next 20 years, I know that I am able to make that commitment - and moreover, that I WANT to. That my fears of such long term commitment are based far more in past fears than in any current problems within the relationship.

When David talked of marriage, I laughed out of sheer disbelief, in that nervous titter that people do when they're horrified but too polite to say so. When Jesse and I talk of marriage, I laugh out of comaradie, in sharing his own need to not sign our relationship on the dotted line.

And who knows? Maybe that will change someday. Maybe we will decide that the financial gains of marriage would be worth it. Maybe we will decide that making our love legally recognized by the federal government would be lovely.

But I am assured that even if we never take that step, we will still be working towards the same depth of commitment that marriage entails. And scary or not, I can easily see that as a good sign.
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I can't tell if the thoughts are moving too fast to catch or if the thoughts aren't there at all. But it feels like there's wind in my head. Movement of some kind.

Strange thought, as I am morbid and always seem to tilt towards the worst end scenario. "I can't wait to see what I'll hate about you." The whole idea is that those things, those things that you love about a person, that you just hate by the end of it. Not the annoying habits or the pet peeves, but the things that you just KICK YOURSELF for having been in love with to begin with.

I'm not a romantic person.

I really have to sleep.
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Tiger - THANK YOU. THANK YOU!!!! I didn't even realize I needed a Good Thing yesterday until I got your email - THANK YOU! And thank you to your husband, too! THANK YOU!!! I'm thinking a purse. A fun, skull decorated purse. Or really fancy bubble bath stuff. Something just for the sheer FUN of it. THANK YOU!

There's so much to get back to. Comments. Emails. I will. Some conversations that came up with Jesse yesterday:

* The idea of needing someone. This was in relation to needing family, something of which I have built my entire life around separating myself from. Not needing them. Not requiring their approval. Not waiting for them to be a part of my life before I lived mine. It's of desperate importance that I know how to decisively slice them out of my life - sometimes, in the case of my mother and stepfather - forever.

This is a thing that has bothered people before. A sort of worry that if I could do it to my family, I could do it to THEM. The point isn't that I'm trying to keep people out, but rather that I've tried to develop the strongest self of self-reliance that I can.

And let's face it, when it comes to people I've DECIDED to need, I've chosen the wrong people nearly every time. So it's become A Thing where I just don't need people and when I find out I do, or when it comes to not needing them, I just pull away. I can see where that's blatantly unhealthy.

I'd tried to reassure Jesse that it won't come to that because I don't let myself NEED people like I once needed them.

But that was the wrong thing to say - and understandably so. I'd just as well said "I'll never let you in", which is not only a dysfunctional thing to say, but cruel as well. I tried to backpedal, but to no avail.

So maybe I've got a problem with trusting people. You guys, Pat, and to some extent, Amanda are the only ones I've allowed myself to need. Some people say it's wrong to need people, that it's better to WANT them.

But all of a sudden, I'm wondering if maybe I've been too harsh with not needing people. The reason I am even ALLOWING myself to entertain this idea is because it is NOT HIM that is bringing it up. He doesn't point it out and say that I have intimacy issues. He doesn't push it. He doesn't try to use it as something he can wedge against my boundaries to try and slither through.

He just sits there and lets me talk and lets me come to my own conclusions, my own thoughts, my own questions about it.

If it weren't for that, I'd have shut down the subject entirely by this point.

* Jesse says things like he'll always love me, like he'll always want to be with me. I don't know how to handle that, nor am I sure I can believe him. It is not a fault of his that I am having a hard time trusting this. I truly and emphatically believe that no one person can ever, ever promise to feel one way about someone forever.

People change. Situations change. Time changes. All things are mutable. I honestly can't fathom how someone can promise they will always feel something when the future is unknown. Maybe I don't believe I can feel one way about someone for forever, I don't know.

So I tell him that while I don't believe in forever, I DO believe in a very, very long time. It's not terribly comforting for him to hear that. I can understand why, but it's a feeling, a belief, that I'm not sure how to change - if I want to change it at all.

* I am 33 years old. He is 42. Neither of us are getting any younger. Neither of us are interested in a fling, in a casual relationship, in anything that will not lead to something serious and long-lasting. While neither of us are looking for marriage, we are in absolute agreement that we want something that leads to something permanent.

So it doesn't bother me, per say, that he feels like making this a serious relationship. It's already serious for me, at least in as much as I can make it right now.

It is this that I am trying to keep in mind. I am trying to not trip on myself. I wonder how hard I should be trying, if I'm pushing myself past what I need to, or if these are real issues that need to be addressed.

They are. I know they are. But I'm unsure as to where the line between "taking care of myself" and "letting someone else help me take care of myself" lies. In the matters of food, the heart, my money (which stays completely in my control, yeah, learned my lesson with that one), in it all.

More to get back to later. You guys have been saying such relevant things, such funny things, such REAL things. I love you guys. I love you guys SO MUCH. Thank you so much for listening.
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Walking down the apartment hallway, I noticed something on the floor by the bathroom door.

ME: Honey? How did the nipple clamps get over here?

*pause*

JESSE: That's not something you hear in many households.

Build up

Dec. 1st, 2014 05:21 am
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You know it's going to be one of those days when you spill your first cup of coffee. Okay, not spill, but rather set the cup down sideways. SIDEWAYS. As in, I wasn't paying attention and put the cup down with its handle laying prone.

Tiger - I have now faced sideways coffee. It is a sad and disorientating experience. The coffee now soaking into my carpet weeps as well.

I've been out of my Trazadone for about a week, having lent too many to Cassie. It's showing in the roughly four to five hours of sleep a night I'm getting. I'm briefly napping during the day but not enough to make up the difference. I thought NyQuil would work but it does not. As of three days ago, I was also out of Lithium. I can definitely feel it.

I go to get the meds refilled today.

I've been feeling remarkably well rested for the small amount of sleep I've been getting, which is a sign of impending mania. Maybe hypomania. Most other signs of hypo/mania are only on the peripherals, if barely there at all. It's still something to watch for.

Last night Jesse and I watched a movie called "Lucy", which is about a woman who manages to unlock 100% of her brain's capacity. The science of it is extremely shaky and the movie itself is mostly bad-ass porn (as in, if you get off on bad-assness, this is the movie for you), but it was still very fun. It kind of kicked off a giddy few hours for me. Theoretical physics is one of my favorite exciting things to talk about. And so I talked. A lot. Talked so much I wound up winding myself up into a state that worried Jesse.

He used the word "manic." It always agitates me when people use the word "manic" to describe something other than an extended bi-polar episode, since manic is a condition, not a mood. Still, I could see what he was pointing out, especially in the days that I haven't been sleeping.

He was adamant about my getting my meds refilled, which was like "duh." What shocks me is this:

A great many people don't mind the manic moments. They, in fact, seem drawn in by it. I get why. It can be very exciting, very charismatic. Only a few people in my life have side-eyed it. David, once he understood what mania is and what it does, was one of them. Jesse is another. It shocked me that he did not find this state to be a fun thing to be around. It worried him and made him cautious around me.

That's a good sign. It means the healthy, normalized (at least normal for me) Teressa is something he enjoys more than the off-center, wildly spinning one. It also a little worrisome in its own right. How will he handle a truly manic Teressa? Will the depressive episodes worry him more? What happens if I have a completely hysterical breakdown like I did on Temazapam?

Jesse has a shorthand copy of the new DSMV. Early on, he'd looked up Type 1 Bi-polar. I noted that they had shortened the lengths of qualifying episodes. Hypo is now 4 days instead of a week. Mania qualifies at a shorter time as well. They've also put Bipolar under the Schizoaffective umbrella, which at its peak, makes sense. Most of us, in either the up or down, can display psychotic symptoms. I don't yet display any of those signs.

I'm not manic. But there is definitely that build-up. The clearest sign is that I don't particularly want to slow down. Sleep seems an impediment as opposed to a necessity. He says that I've been cleaning more, though I'm not as willing to accept that as a sign of mania. I clean a lot anyways.

I have therapy today and medication to refill. I'd COMPLETELY spaced out therapy last week and because my phone was refusing to work, didn't receive any reminder calls. So I must go today.

School. Take Pat to work. Therapy. Group therapy. And at 11 PM tonight, get Pat from work, take him home, and then go home myself. Go home to sleep another four or five hours and then get up and go to school, go clean, and then come home again. Restart on Thursday.

I don't like being so busy with transportation schedules. But it's what has to be done to do the things that must be done. We'll see how today goes. I am receiving comments. Reading. Turning them over. All of these things are good.

I love you all and thank you for listening.

Learning

Nov. 30th, 2014 04:06 am
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There is something ominous about being awoken at 4:30 in the morning by strobing police lights filtering through your windows. Of course, they weren't there for me. But it does remind me that this place is not the best of residences. Don't get me wrong, there are far worse places to live in Kansas City. And the complex has done a very good job in cleaning up the riff-raff over the last year. But things still slip through.

We are still the ass-end, white trash central of this county. That's alright. It just means I'm in my element.

The knee is healing remarkably well. It's the REST of me that's protesting. Like you said, Gonzo, it's amazing how skating uses every muscle. It took immense concentration just to stay upright, which meant tensing every muscle, which means those muscles are sore as hell. But all seems to be working itself out.

Something that I'm sure will eventually become a point of contention between Jesse and I - he is a social person. I am anything but. I meant it when I retitled my journal to "Welcome To The Hermit's Desk". While I can make small talk till the cows come home, while I can be quite at ease in large groups of strangers, it is not something I enjoy doing with any sort of regularity. I generally don't say hi unprompted to strangers, most people bore the hell out of me, and I am far more happy to spend days inside the confines of my 500 square foot studio apartment.

I'm just not a social person. As David put it, "you're only social when you're manic. High manic, no less." And in that, David's totally right. It became a point of contention between David and I, who is also more social than me. Okay, MOST people are more social than I am, but still.

I don't want this to become a problem, so I'm trying to figure out how to compromise about all this. I'm sure there will be struggles concerning this along the way.

Jesse also doesn't quite get my online life, the way I fervently rely on all of you. Not so much that he doesn't get it, but that for him, he had to move AWAY from the computer to find wholeness. Me? You are all are my rock - and nothing will sway me from that. Even in times when I am not commenting, I am reading. I am thinking of all of you.

Part of this might be his age. He is 42 and arrived at the internet some years after me. He also had a traumatic life experience that caused him to lose contact with many of his online friends, requiring him to find more face-to-face friends. This has not been my experience, however, and some middle must be met.

I am not very good at meeting people in the middle. Certainly at least not since the breakup. I am adamant about getting my way. My way and my way ONLY. I nearly broke myself with compromise before - and I know it wasn't really "compromise." I was letting myself get run over. Yet, I know there must be something in the middle.

I don't like getting into relationships with the idea of "learning" something. That idea is not particularly healthy. A relationship is building something. So I'm not entirely sure what I should be doing here, if anything.

At the moment, it's not a serious issue. Transportation issues keep us both pretty close to home. But I'm waiting for it to come to head. I know eventually something will and that's when the real mettle will either rise or fall.

I guess that's okay. I made my decision to take this relationship seriously. So we'll see what that means as we go along.

Pretty

Nov. 25th, 2014 06:22 am
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I awake with an impending migraine, a sore neck due to said impending migraine, and a very, very, deliciously sore and bruised body. The sex with Jesse is beyond amazing....and moreover, taps into a part of me that I've discovered drives my sex drive. Kink. Lots and lots of kink, specifically impact play and bondage. I was so worried at first that he was just saying he liked it - lots of people "like" kink.

But what most people like is the IDEA of being kinky. Sure, they'll indulge a little spanking, maybe giggle with the handcuffs once in a while, but after that, they drop back into regular sex. Which, for them, is fine because kink is NEVER something you force on someone. But me....I need more. I want more.

And so does he. I am absolutely blown away by the places he takes me, the places he takes himself. Last night, during the paddling and flogging, he broke down in tears. Initially I was concerned he was experiencing top-drop, and I paused play to check on him. They were tears of joy. Tears of wonder. Tears of delight at being able to, finally, take himself and someone else to these places - to not have to hide his own wishes to safely hurt someone in the confines of love. And to have found someone who also craves the inverse - to BE hurt under hard hands and a soft heart.

Open. Raw. Vulnerable. Trust. Lust. Passion. Safe. Riding the edge.

These are things he needs. These are things I need. These are things we are able to give each other. He does not judge. He does not ascribe my cravings for welts and sharp stings to abuse. He does not reduce me to a pitied creature who only likes what she likes because Mommy and Daddy didn't treat her right. He allows me the room to be an adult who has the choice - and who has CHOSEN, of her own free will - what turns her on and how she chooses to experience it.

I am not judged. I am not seen as broken. And neither do I judge him or see him as broken.This is SO, SO important. To not be made to feel like a freak. To not be made to feel as if I am sick. To be treated as an adult and not a product of abuse.

He respects every safeword, every called out "yellow", every cried out "Please change tools!". He respects my wishes to not let up, despite the flinches, despite the crying out - he respects my wants to be taken as far as I can, every time. He doesn't ruin or break play with constant worried comments. He trusts me to let him know the direction of what he needs to be doing. Not only does he respect that, he craves it himself.

For him, as he's shared, this is a life-changing discovery. I remember being there. I remember how finding BDSM was like coming home and yet, at the same, permanently changing me. This means he wants this. This means it's in him. And that's what I need.

He himself has had to safeword out a couple of times - and that also gives ME wild trust in HIM. It's a massive sign of respect for what he's doing to both me and himself. It makes me want to give myself to him to push me as far as I can go.

I know to a lot of you this doesn't make any sense. That's okay. But beyond finally finding someone who can give me what makes sex exciting and worthwhile to me, I am overwhelmed with relief to know that I AM NOT BROKEN. I thought I was sexless. I thought I had completely lost all hope of ever experiencing a real sex drive ever again. I thought that I'd be resigned to mild masturbation forever and ever.

I'm not. I won't be. I know the sex won't always be like this. I know this is the honeymoon period. But I also know that, having found someone for whom this is a life-changing discovery, I don't have to worry about losing interest in sex ever again. So, with that, I need to take some Excedrin for the migraine and maybe apply a cold compress to my ass and thighs.

Bruises can be so pretty.
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I screwed up yesterday...or I didn't. I don't know. I think I didn't. I'm really scared I did. We were playing a board game with his son and Jesse made some kind of joke about his big mouth. What came out of my mouth was "I love you and your big mouth!"

I swear, it was as if Time stopped. It just froze. I froze. He froze. His son didn't because, hey, eleven years old. My face turned beet red, I looked at the floor, and I couldn't raise my head. All I could think was "Damnit. DAMN IT DAMNIT DAMNIT!"

He's been saying for some time now that he would wait till I said it first. He later said that he would not say it if I was still uncomfortable with it. He said he was delighted that it came out over such a mundane thing. No fanfare. No dramatic moment. No whirlwind of emotion. It came out over the course of a boardgame, surrounded by his son and plastic, Tetris-like pieces. (We were playing Blokus.)

That's the part of it that makes me more okay with having said it. I am SO SCARED of getting caught up in a whirlwind romance. Oh god, I am petrified of that. Every time that's happened before, it's ended in disaster. The sort of "burn it to the ground and salt the earth" kind of disaster. I don't want that to happen here. I'm holding myself in check, I'm holding him to his promises of respecting my boundaries, and I'm holding myself to a level of caution I don't think I've ever displayed before.

Because all of you are right. All of you who have given me permission to be happy in whatever this is - and those of you who have cautioned patience. All of you are right. All of you are in my head, directing the storm that rages and ebbs. I tell him that I trust all of you implicitly - often much more than I trust myself. The power of a collective support network - that is never to be denied.

And so I'm listening.

I'm afraid I don't know what love looks like anymore...Or how long it should or shouldn't take. It took MONTHS for me to get the phrase "I love you" out to David. Granted, I was just coming out of a ten year relationship, so I was understandably reticent. And while I don't believe in love at first sight, I DO believe in that spark, the one that I both want and need to be there early on.

That's the fear. I kinda think if there's strong feelings it equals a warning sign. A danger zone. Like, if I really REALLY want the person, that's a sign that I should get as far away from that person as soon as possible, because strong feelings = dysfunction. That the only healthy way to be attracted to someone is to only-kinda-sorta have feelings for them.

Except that it doesn't and I know that. That's fear talking. And it's fear that I know I have to treat gently. I'm not going to toss it aside completely. Hell, I'm still nervous as all hell.

But I'm still going to write it out. And I'm still going to listen to every. single. one. of. you. And I'm still going to see Jesse and think "Okay. This is scary and beautiful - and okay."
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Something that I haven't talked about concerning Jesse because I wasn't sure how I felt about it myself is that Jesse has children. Two children who are adults and an 11 year old son. His youngest doesn't live with him but sees him on some weekends.

That was one of my dealbreakers. I wouldn't date someone with children. But I liked Jesse enough to see how I handled his son, to see if it really would be as frightening as I thought it would be. And...

it's not. God help me, I fucking adore this kid. And I don't know what to do with it.

Well, there's not really much TO be done with it. I'm not ready to become a Mommy figure. But all of a sudden, out of nowhere, just meeting this kid makes me think that....maybe my heart is big enough to include one more child in my life.

I've always loved Audrey and Julien. I would lay my life on the line for them, make deals with the Devil to steal away their pain and offer them peace. I didn't think it was possible to - that I would ever WANT TO - allow another child into the same areas of my heart.

Is it possible? Could I do that? Is it okay? Children scare the hell out of me. And I generally don't like them. They are loud, unpredictable, illogical, irrational and demand constant attention. But...I've been able to give it all to Audrey and Julien. Do I have them to thank for this sudden cracking open of my heart? Is it their exposure to my life that made me look at Jesse's son and think - "If I can make that kid smile even just once, then my day is made"???

We watched a torrented version of Guardians of the Galaxy. I handed him my Rocket Racoon plushy and told him anytime he's here, it's his to hold, even if he's at his dad's place. We sat and talked about Mass Effect for HOURS. Paula - he freaking LOVED that cemetery diorama you made a few years ago. He played with the cats.

Honest to God, I have no fucking clue what the fuck is going on here. This is not what I expected. While I expected to eventually meet his son, I had not at all expected this flood of...I don't even know what to call it. But it's there.

Is it too early to like someone's kid? Is that okay? What's going on here?
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Last night I dreamed of blood - the thick, viscous kind, the kind that more oozed than dripped. A lot of it. I don't know if it was coming from me or someone else. It scared but fascinated me. I can't remember if I laughed or screamed. I can only remember the consistency of the blood, something much thicker than anything that flows from inside should be.

Jesse's had morbid dreams in bed with me. He says he normally does not have dreams like this. I joked that it was the energy of the bed (as I have nightmares and creepy dreams in it all the time.) When I saw how serious his face had gotten, I reached over and told him that if it would make him feel better, he could perform a cleansing ritual over the apartment. As I believe in none of that, I can see no reason not to let him. It will be neither here nor there for me. And it might be comforting for HIM, so he's allowed to do so.

I did request that he not sprinkle salt across any surface in my home. It could draw bugs and it's also just messy as hell. I know salt is one of those basic Pagan things but I also don't want to be stepping on it and grinding it into my carpet.

I need to work on being more respectful towards his spiritual beliefs in general. It's hard for me to not roll my eyes or give a slight sigh when it comes up. That's not respecting or being nice to him. He's perfectly respectful of my LACK of belief. It's only fair that I return the favor. Thus, I'm trying to be more conscience of my body language whenever the subject comes up.

It's hard. I can be derisive as hell. Sarcasm comes as easily as breathing to me. Contempt is not something I put effort into hiding. And I don't feel contempt towards him - only baffled exasperation in the things he believes. But that's not what is important - what's important is how I TREAT him and his beliefs.

I didn't really figure on dating someone with spiritual beliefs, traditional or otherwise. I guess I'd gotten comfortable enough in my atheism that I sort of forgot that most people are spiritual. Oddly enough, it is nowhere near as large of a hurdle as I thought it would be. It's just something that I need to accept as part of him.

The conversations we get into about it are sometimes frustrating. I have cut the conversation short several times. I guess I just get to a point where I am having a REALLY, SUPER hard time not becoming sharp or caustic - and I don't want to do that to him. He seems to understand and drops the subject when I ask him to.

I can only imagine how frustrating it must have been for David when we met. It makes me shake my head and give a bemused laugh. Pat has said that I had been teetering on the edge of atheism for a couple of years before I met David. For all the strife I've felt and still feel about David, it was he that gave me permission to drop the last vestige of faith. That was a gift - and I will remember it.

I gave myself permission for something yesterday. I was listening to Pink's "Try", which had been one of the two breakup songs. In it, it talks about the flame of desire - and of how one must be willing to get burned if they are to love.

So I decided to allow myself this. I decided to take this chance, to be in this, all with the chance that it could end terribly, that we could crash and burn, that I might spend yet another year writing maudlin and angry Livejournal entries if what Jesse and I have goes south.

I don't know if that is a healthy way to look at it. I don't know if that's a brave way to look at it. But I do know that if I am to put real effort into this, I must be willing to take the chance. To stand halfway in, halfway out, simply because I don't want to get burned, will not provide me the road I want to go down. It will only leave me standing in the crossroads, never knowing if the right hand or the left hand path will be.

I'm still nervous. I still have boundaries. I am still skittish. But I know I have to take the chance that this might turn out horribly.....because it might not. It might...but it might not.

If I had a God, then now would be the time I would say "if God be so willing, then so shall I."

Recieved

Nov. 19th, 2014 05:34 am
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Two things happened yesterday. Okay, I made the choice to do two things yesterday. I asked him to stay the night....and I called him my boyfriend. For reasons that are blatantly obvious, the second one was the scarier one.

But the good kind of scary. Saying that word somehow felt....right. So - I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend. That word is more okay than I thought it would be. It was also nice to share the bed with someone. I thought I'd be restless, itchy, uncomfortable. I was none of those things. It was comforting. And waking up to my morning routine with another person in the house....that is also lovely.

On average, I don't feel lonely. Between my mind, you guys, and the cats, my home usually feels full enough. But I realize just how much I've missed the presence of someone I want, the sleeping form of care and affection only a few feet away from me.

I told him the invitation to stay the night is mine. I don't know why I felt the need to tell him, as he already understood that and did not assume it was a standing invitation. But he didn't fuss at all when I told him. I feel as if I should need to pinch myself just to make sure I'm not dreaming, as respectful as he is.

Amanda visited last night. It was a fantastic get together. Not only did the three of us have great chemistry, she was open and gregarious. She is in general, but it was lovely to sit and talk for hours with her. A part of me felt a bit bad that I did not take her and her husband's offer to ease my way back in sex with them, but they wholeheartedly understood. They are true friends, as they never once pushed, either.

I've missed her. It was nearly healing to see her yesterday.

Jesse's said something a few times now. He says he's attracted to my confidence. That surprised me, as I generally don't think of myself as confident. For the most part, I just have strong boundaries, a low tolerance for general bullshit, and am opinionated as fuck. I don't know if that translates to confidence or if it SHOULD translate to confidence. It's hard to see that, since I live in my own head. My own mind is so often in turmoil. It moves too fast or freaks out too easily.

I guess it doesn't show as much as I think it does. Maybe. I don't know. But his saying that gives me a little more confidence in BEING confident, if that makes any sense.

Today the To Do List is: Shower, do one of the three homework assignments, and dust. I have to wait for the shower, though, as I just put a fresh topcoat on my nails. I let Jesse paint my nails for me last night. He asked and I let him.

I....this is so strange. But it is welcomely received. Every moment.
quirkytizzy: (Default)
As that is part of how I name things to be Real.

Therapy was confusing but interesting. Group therapy was outright annoying. The group is led by a woman who is more or less a hippie. I really like her, but a lot of the time the handouts she gives out talk about leaning on God - and so do lots of the folks who attend the group therapy.

Now I understand that it's normal to be spiritual on some level or another. Atheists are the outliers on that. So I generally don't say anything. It's not my place to start a religious debate - and it's not the PURPOSE of group therapy to do so, either. It'd derail the whole thing. It's just that I have to kind of grin and nod for that stuff, which gets irritating.

I also have a low tolerance for the cliche and trite. I get A LOT of good stuff out of the handouts and whatnot, but some of them are very syrupy Hallmark card-y sorts of stuff. Things like "smile" or "be positive." And yesterday, ones that talked about things like not holding onto anger. I got a little sarcastic and a lot agitated.

That's a particularly sore spot for me. I feel some anger is truly justified and I feel some of my anger has been earned. I feel as if I have the right to NOT let go of some of it. We eventually wound up talking about the difference between healthy and unhealthy anger, which calmed me down some. Things like anger at my abusers or occasionally at my life, they said, are fairly healthy so long as it does not interfere with functioning as an adult. That was a relief to hear, since that's EXACTLY how I feel.

I just hate feeling like I'm being told to dismiss or minimize my feelings.

It's a slighter bigger thing as of late as Jesse is very big on the whole "forgive but don't forget" thing. And I have a beef with that whole philosophy. Forgiving means, on some level, allowing them some validity, and I won't have that. They say it's "for yourself, not them", but that still means I have to rework things in my head where I have to believe that what they did was acceptable enough TO forgive.

And when I start doing that, I start getting sick. I start denying. That path leads nowhere good for me. Forgiveness does not always equal health and it does not equal acceptance. I have long since accepted what happened - I'd have killed myself a long time ago if I hadn't.

Health from abuse is not always this glowing rose of peace. Sometimes it is messy and angry and sharp. And that's OKAY. I spent so many years saying that I forgave them in order to deny dealing with the anger. I was so afraid the anger would kill me.

Turns out it not only won't kill me, but has become a powerful tool in healing. And I have no wish to discard that. It is okay to feel how I feel about it - giving myself that permission was the most healing step I've ever taken.

It's hard to convey this to Jesse. He also had a horrible childhood, but he has chosen this spiritual path to heal himself. He doesn't really get where I'm coming from. I can see where it'd be startling to others. Where they'd be shocked at how much anger I carry from it all. To his credit, he didn't push. And I'll admit to being particularly sore about the whole issue. Still, it wound up grating on my nerves yesterday.

Therapy was a combination of relationship counseling and talking about the possibility of a manic episode building. The conditions are PERFECT for mania. Far too busy schedule, lots of frantic interaction (seriously, I just want to chuck my phone into the toilet, it is constantly going off with people trying to get ahold of me), this new relationship, and looooots of sex. Between all that and school, my sleep is getting pretty hit or miss. So we went over and compiled a list of things I could do to make a stop-gap for the over-stimulation I've been experiencing.

Things like alone time, taking breaks from sex to do calmer things with Jesse, and writing daily lists of Things I Need To Do. The sex part naturally has rises and falls - my body is bruised enough as to where it needs a few days to heal. That's fine. The rest of it is also doable. It's just going to take some forced effort to slow myself down.

And THAT'S the danger. I've hit the point where I don't WANT to slow down. He said, from what I've said and how my manner has been IN therapy, that I definitely seem to be building. We figured out a critical point, where if I hit that, then I have to go see Dr. Cannon for an emergency visit. That will be when I start having intrusive and impulsive thoughts, things like crashing my car just to see what happens, or if I have obsessive thoughts that begin to interfere with daily functions.

I agreed to that and will be watching for it.

The relationship stuff was confusing. He made the rather pointed observation that I seem to be very jaded about relationships. That all of my boundaries were absolutely acceptable, but that I also needed to start developing a plan for relaxing those boundaries, should I decide to continue this relationship with Jesse. I wanted to scream "YOU ARE 27 YEARS OLD! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS?!"

But then I caught myself by remembering that, okay, sure, he may be younger than me, but he's got the Master's Degree. Maybe - just maybe - he knows something I don't. So I listened. We talked about the fact that I have a very hard time tolerating anything with the word "love" in it - and about how I was much more comfortable with sex than I was with love.

Coming from anyone else, I would have cut them off right then and there. I told him that when lovers in the past have told me that, some of them have used it as a manipulation tool. He asked what it would mean if someone said that and only meant it as an observation.

I paused. He's got a point.

See, I like Jesse. I like him A LOT. I like him enough to actually MAKE this a relationship between him and I. But I'm nervous as all fuck. I was a bitch to Jesse last night between all of this agitation and said - without thinking, because I'm an insensitive fuck - that so much of my head was saying that I needed to just kick him out - but that I am having such strong feelings that I don't WANT to kick him out.

Naturally, that worried him. I later apologized and acknowledged that what I said was rude and cruel, but I still feel bad. I panicked and told him "You're going to get sick of how long it's going to take for me to relax about all this and you're going to leave and then I'm going to go FUCK I AM DUMB and then I'll be crying."

He kind of side-eyed me for that and was like "Where did you get that idea? I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. This is your decision to make, not mine. I know that."

I almost cried. I hate feeling like I'm being the Broken and Beautiful trope, like I'm afraid to let someone in. But maybe - just fucking MAYBE - that really is an actual problem for me.Jesse said he understands that this is my issue to push through at my pace.

Jesus fuck, did I actually land someone who is going to treat me right????

I want to make whatever step comes next. I don't know what that is.

But I want to be brave and try. It's like what Commander Shepard says "Nobody ever fell in love without being a little bit brave."
quirkytizzy: (Default)
David found out a couple of days ago that I am seeing someone. He was remarkably composed about it, which I appreciate. He was coming to visit and I'd stressed that he needed to give me a heads up before he headed out. He cracked a joke, asking if there was someone I needed to kick out of the apartment first.

I paused, bit my lip, and answered "Yes, and I want to be sensitive to you about it."

Maybe I should have played off the joke. I'm sure he didn't mean to know the answer. But I didn't feel like covering it up. He responded that we could speak about it like adults and that he would be over shortly. At first, that agitated me. What is there to talk about? We've been broken up for going on a year now. I have no intention of making David a buddy-buddy in talking about my relationship and I am under no obligation to "talk it out" with David, nor would I WANT to be.

To his credit, to his absolute credit, when he arrived, he simply was quiet and morose. I couldn't deny him either of those reactions. He didn't want to hear me talk about it, which is fair. I accidentally stumbled a few times but quickly retracted when he said "Please don't talk about it." We managed to find plenty of other topics to talk about and he was wonderfully kind in spotting me some smokes and an errand for Cassie.

Neighbor Guy was interested in meeting both David and Pat, as I talk about them both so much. I was like "NOOOOOOOO." I have yet to break my 20 year streak of being friends with my ex's, but I do not like to mix them. It's just a dick move to do to someone you used to love and there's no way I'm going there. I know some people can do that, which is where he is coming from, but I can't.

Things with Neighbor Guy are motherfucking awesome. You know how I was so nervous about dating someone who lived in the same hallway? Psssshaw, turns out that's the MOST AWESOME THING EVAH. I mean, talk about CONVENIENCE. No cold walks to the car when he or I leave, no having to fuss about gas money, and if I forget something like Carmex, it's a two minute walk to get it and then come back.

Ha, Carmex. Every lover I've ever had has said that the smell of Carmex will forever remind them of me. 'Tis true. I am a Carmex fanatic and have been for almost 20 years. Die-hard, life-long, loyal consumer to the brand itself. I'd buy stock in that company if I could.

But yeah, the dating someone in the same building thing turned out to be a wonderful thing. I'm pleased about that. The sex is FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. O!M!G! Turns out he IS as kinky as he said - and more. Even more kinky. We're not talking suffering the paces of topping me because I enjoy it. We're talking HE enjoys it. Wants it. He's looking up videos and sites and resources all on his own to educate himself about it, even. It's....just....wow. Sometime I'll have to write on that, because I once again am realizing how important finding a person who is sexually compatible with your sexual needs is.

I've spent the last five years feeling like my kink was broken or wrong on some core level, because it repulsed David so much. I'm glad to be rediscovering it with no judgement. And I'm glad I'm realizing that I have the RIGHT - the absolute RIGHT - to choose a partner who can provide BDSM sex. I can't force it on someone who doesn't want it, but I CAN find someone who can give that to me. That's okay. It's what I need to be satisfied sexually - and that's important.

I would NEVER force this level on kink on someone. Once we hit the limit for David's comfort level, I put it aside. I'm sure it contributed to the demise of our relationship, but I also understood that this isn't something you make your partner endure. I'm kinky. I'm talking bruises and welts kind of kinky. That's not something you just wing it and hope your partner will deal with. But...I can search for someone who will enjoy it.

Right? I'm allowed to do that? Allowed to choose someone who is able to give me the level of kink I need and want? This is like looking for a partner with a job, right? A quality that I can justifiably seek out, and can accept or reject lovers for?

Also -

Nov. 11th, 2014 10:21 am
quirkytizzy: (Default)
He is a Pagan/New Ager. He fervently believes in the divine, the occult, and various supernatural phenomena. It seems to make up a large part of his core. I am an atheist. I believe in none of that. At all.

When I met David, ***I*** was the New Ager and he was the atheist. With Neighbor Guy, the roles have been reversed.

This ought to be interesting.
quirkytizzy: (Default)
Things with Neighbor Guy continue to go well, in a terrifying sort of way. The best way to explain it would be to share the text conversation we had yesterday. I'd texted him, offering him the option of a threesome (or foursome or whatever.) I think it'd be great fun. And both males AND females would be invited. This is what he said in return:

"Sometime in the future is perfectly fine with me. Currently, I am more interested in becoming your boyfriend and starting a relationship with you...all I want is a relationship with you."

My jaw fucking DROPPED. I mean, if the human jaw could unhinge itself, I'd have been scraping it off the floor with a spatula. What kind of a dude turns down a threesome, especially if the options are being able to bring other women? What does it say about HIM that he doesn't want to share me?

I had no idea how to respond, except to reassure him that his answer was perfectly fine. I'm not going to push that. I've reassured him that he does not have to be exclusive with me. I guess the flip side to that would be that I don't have to be exclusive with him, but in general, I worry that commitments of ANY kind at this time would be moving too fast.

And the word "boyfriend" scared the shit out of me. A boyfriend is a commitment. That's a real thing that requires work and building some kind of life together. I'm not opposed to the idea, just....not sure if it's healthy to use that word.

So I settled on a phrase that we could both use. "Seeing each other." We are seeing each other. It occurred to me that people officially date others for a few months at a time and then break up, so it's not like "boyfriend" has to equal feeling trapped in a reationship. I'm wondering if the word "boyfriend" is actually as loaded as I think it is. If I'm splitting hairs for nothing. But I do know the word makes me uncomfortable. He was just fine with that phrase, "seeing each other." No pushing. He didn't push AT ALL.

The other night I asked him to stay with me, to cuddle me in bed, until I fell asleep. I told him if he did, I needed him to leave once I fell asleep. I just can't have that waking-up-together thing just yet. Not only did he appreciate the offer, but he followed through on it. To the letter.

So far, this guy is coming up all sixes for rolling the trustworthy dice. He's respected every. single. boundary I've laid out, no fussing, no pushing, no fighting. I am impressed. Truly, I am impressed. And these aren't boundaries I've set up to "test" him. These are things I truly need to have respected - and he's kept to them. Granted, I've known him only for a week - things could go terribly wrong anytime - but for someone as hyper-vigilant about boundaries as I am, this is a big, big thing.

This morning I messaged him that I need a few hours of alone time this morning. I haven't had any in well over a week. I desperately need it. And again, while this isn't about testing him, I need to know how he will react and handle my need to be alone, even if just for a few hours.

He's cooked for me now. Twice. That made me soooo nervous. I mean, all of us know how I feel about cooking, about how it is one of the purest languages of love that I can experience. He's a good cook and it shows that he does so because he cares about me.

The sex has been WONDERFUL. We actually have only had penetrative sex twice, but holy shit, does the dude know what to do with his hands. I mean OMG. And it turns out he's kinky. Like BDSM kinky. We'll see how kinky he is once I put the toys in his hands to use, but so far, that's been very encouraging.

Do you think the word "boyfriend" is as loaded as I think it is? And do you think it's okay to be seeing someone exclusively that you've only known for a week?
quirkytizzy: (Default)
Copied and pasted from an email to a friend, cuz Things Be Nuts. This is over the last couple of days.

So I invite Neighbor Guy into my apartment with Cassie there. Call it a chaperon test, I guess. Flying colors, he did. And when we finally drop her off....I invite him back up alone.

The trouble spot....I cuddled. I don't cuddle. But....I did with him. And...I liked it. That worries me. Not so much because I'm worried I fall in love or anything, cuz heeelllll no, not yet. But, like, what the hell does it say about me if I like CUDDLING? God, that's just....Cassie says it's because he's just got the right energy. And he does. He's calm. I like that. He let me approach him. I like that.

I need a calm person. Calm lover. Maybe it's that whole complimenting someone thing, or yin and yang, or whatever, but the storm get awfully rough sometimes. I need that anchor, if only in my friends. And in a lover, I HAVE to have that. I must. If it's to be a real relationship, at least.

Things with Neighbor Guy continue to progress, which is good, but I'm a little worried, too. He talks about me being his future-girlfriend and in a very sort of "This could be love" kind of way. Apparently I hit every marker in a list he made of what would be his perfect woman. And I like him. I like him quite a bit. And I'm totally open to a future relationship, like an actual, honest to god, relationship. But...not now. Not when things are so crazy in my life. I want to make sure that decision is made through honest and genuine attraction and NOT a reaction to the current insanity.

I've been laying out boundaries and disclaimers like crazy. It feels weird, like I'm trying to push him away, which I don't want to do, because I enjoy spending time with him. A LOT. But I have to make sure things are in place. I told him that I don't do sleepovers. I don't spend the night at his house and he can't spend the night at mine. That pushes things way too fast into relationship territory. I told him that overall, I really need my alone time and not to be offended if I need several days in a week to just be alone.

I told him that we won't be having sex every time we see each other. And, of course, to not show up on my doorstep without first telling me and then waiting for my response of a yes or no. He's solid on that one so far, so that's a positive sign.

I said I didn't want to get too close too fast. That always ends up in disaster. Boundary crossings, mismatched feelings, forced teaming, all of that. He sort of side-eyed me for that, but then told him that if I hear the words " you won't do any of (insert X behavior) because you have intimacy issues", that's game ender right there. I told him how too many people have used that line to manipulate me into letting them cross boundaries - and that I would have none of that.

Also the whole if I wake up (say we take a nap or something) to him doing sexual things to me, it's over then, too. That's a HUGE trigger for me, especially after David.

So I'm at least being direct and Using My Words, which he seems receptive to. That's a good sign, but things need to settle out a hell of a lot more before I decide to make anything official.

I mean, I really do like him. I want to spend oodles of time with him. He's got the qualities that I like in a partner. Eventually, this could be a serious relationship.

I just want to be careful.

I also, through all the time with Cassie lately, have found out some new and vile things about my mother and stepfather. See, with the ways they hated me and tried to hurt and abuse me even after I'd left the house, I thought I got the worst of it. I didn't. I didn't AT ALL, just through sheer virtue of leaving the house so early. My stepfather is a physically violent man. I didn't really know that, and Cassie had told me a little, but I found that out that he'd once knocked Jimmie out cold with the butt of a rifle. And held a knife to his throat. And put a loaded shotgun up to my mother's head and threatened to kill her.

I didn't know that. By grace or sheer luck, whatever propelled me to gtfo at 15, my scars and wounds are vastly fewer in number than what they lived through. It's terrifying and chilling. And....I'm grateful it wasn't me. I feel awful saying that, because there will forever be that tiny part of me that thinks "If I were there to take it, maybe they wouldn't have gotten it so bad", but I am still so eternally grateful that I escaped before things got that bad.

There are other things with Cassie, in her five steps forward and eight steps back sort of way. I have the kids this weekend, which is awesome. I've missed them so much! And I've been living in the car. Like, four or five hours a day in the car.

Time got a lot shorter all of a sudden.

I've been getting you guy's messages and comments. I have. I'm sorry I haven't been around much the last few days. I love you guys. SO MUCH. And -

Am I doing the right things so far? As far you guys can read, at least? What else should I be Using My Words for? Watching for? And what should I be okay with? I'm not sure about that, either, about what is OKAY for something like this. What SHOULDN'T set off alarms.

That part a lot. What part SHOULDN'T set off alarms.
quirkytizzy: (Default)
that I don't at least seek normalcy.

So there's this guy. He lives in my hallway and we've been running into each other on the stairwells going in and out of the apartment. He's an automatic nerd - that I can see right off the bat. (If anyone ever tells you nerds don't "look like" anything, just smack them. We do. We do look like something. We look like nerds.) Nice guy, friendly, not threatening. In his early 40's, so definitely within my age range.

But....he lives in the same building as I do. The same hallway, no less. What if there's drama? Or god forbid, assault? I would have to see him almost every day, or at least risk it. I mean, it's a gold standard, unbreakable rule that I do not even make FRIENDS with my neighbors, let alone possibly anything else.

With that in mind, one day we get to chit chatting about nerd stuff. I walk down the stairs afterwards and realize I enjoyed talking to him. I was a little sad that I had things to do that required me to cut the conversation short.

So the other day, when we run into each other on the stairwells again, I give him a compliment on his shirt. I tell him it is a shade of purple that Londo Mollari would approve of.

HE comes back with a Vir quote.

And suddenly I'm like "Damn, this guy is someone I definitely want to get to know." Hallways be damned.

We exchange numbers. I tell him I'd like to take him out to lunch soon, he tells me perhaps he can take me on Friday night to the haunted house he works at. (One of KC's biggest and finest, no less.)

Now - reality check: He is not coming into my apartment, even if he figures out which one I live in. I am not going into HIS apartment, even if I figure out which one he lives in. In no way, shape, or form do I intend to do anything that involves being alone with each other in our respective domiciles. (Sex, should that happen, can happen anywhere. Sometimes the best sex is in the strangest places.)

But still...it's funny to think what did it. What did it?

A Babylon 5 quote. G'Kar would surely have something saucey to say on that.
quirkytizzy: (Default)
Thoughts as I'm cruising the Craigslist personals (both for women and men):

* Let's forgo the obvious "ew" of sex obsessed motherfuckers, since they are going to be on every site.

* Everyone on Craigslist seems to smoke weed. That's a dealbreaker for me. You can't smoke weed. Nothing against it morally, but I can't have a partner who would eventually be bringing it into my home.

* It turns out there are a lot of people, men and women, who don't mind and even like overweight partners. This is reassuring and refreshing.

* It's weird to have to - for the first time in my life - keep the ages of the poster in mind. I'm not responding to a 22 year old's post. I'm not responding to a 28 year old's post.

* 30 is my bare minimum. I ain't go no interest in training a puppy.

* I haven't responded to anyone's post yet and likely won't for a little while. I think asking out the Ex Professor was a good step. Now I have the time and confidence to plan the next step.

* Which is going to be "Do I have enough energy to procure transportation to meet perfect strangers in the hope of good food, good sex, and good company?"

* That's not really a resounding "YES" as of yet. But it is getting there. In vast leaps.

* Damn, this feels good. Not panicky. Just GOOD.
quirkytizzy: (Default)
I decided I was going to ask that ex-professor for a date.

Today.

And so I did.

I got let down, but in the nicest way possible - and for a very understandable reason. He has apparently just got out of a very bad relationship. I told him I was in his place in February and so I completely understood.

I kinda babbled. It's embarrassing. It's what I do. He was smiling (and blushing, which was goddamn adorable) the whole time, so I'm hoping my rambling was at least funny.

I hope he didn't think I was trying to rush or that I cut off anything he said. I don't think I did, but if I did, it was sheer nervousness.

He did remember me, which was good, elsewise I was going to have to say "Yeah, I was that student that made that awkward and creepy comment on how nice your hands are."

In the end, I gave him my contact info and let him know that if he changes his mind, now or down the line, that I'd love to hear from him.

That would be nice. That would be really, really nice.

So yeah. Broke through that fear. First step. Felt good. Even a "no" feels pretty damn good.

Brainfears

Sep. 17th, 2014 06:35 am
quirkytizzy: (Default)
Two nights now of nearly decent sleep. Another couple of nights with sleep and I think I'll be ready to be....y'know, human.

I'm still not ready to date. But I'm getting a hell of a lot closer. Looking at personals ads don't freak me out the same way they did a few months ago.

The personals I'm looking at are women, but there is ONE DUDE I'm thinking about asking out. A professor at my old college. I'm not enrolled in his college anymore, so that weirdness is not an issue anymore. He's in my age group. And I love the subject of his major. Might be fun.

He might say no. He might be gay. He might have joined some obscure religion that views women as evil. Still, I think it'll be worth a shot. Can't hurt to ask.

If we do go out, I know I'll be intimidated as hell by him. A sort of "OMG HE HAS A FUCKING DOCTORATES WHAT THE HELL IS DOING HANGING WITH ME, MISS POOR WHITE TRASH EXTRAORDINAIRE?!" But Gonzo managed to say some really good things about it, so while that fear will still be there, I know it won't paralyze me.

I am getting worried that I'll SUCK at the womenzzz-sex. I've had far fewer female lovers than male. But I keep hearing that most people are happy to just get sex. Hopefully that'll translate to women, too???

And I'm sure that I'll the exact same scared-reaction if I find a well educated, successful WOMAN that I want to date, too.

If anyone tells you that dating women is easier, smack them. It's not. It's really, really not.

I am also worried about the direction any relationship may take. I'm not looking to get married, which may or may not be a problem for anyone (man or woman) that I date. BUT I WOULD BE looking for a long term relationship.

Or at least, something that would be moving TOWARDS a long term relationship.

Casual relationships just don't interest me. Never have before and certainly don't now. So that puts an extra layer of "omg, amireadyholyshit?!" onto the issue. If I were just wanting a few quick flings, it wouldn't be so bad.

But that's not what I want. So any relationship - or hell, even DATE I go on, those long term possibilities are going to be reeling through and freaking out my brain.

I LIKE being single. I LIKE living alone. I LIKE my life being mine and mine alone.

If I'm going towards a long term relationship, all four of those things will no longer be an option.

I'm not worried about getting dates. That will be easy enough. I have a vagina, that pretty much puts me in the top running right there, even with other women.

But there's still so much anxiety about dating. Will that go away? Is it okay to wait till it goes away? Or will I just be waiting for the impossible if I wait for the anxiety to go away?

I know dating takes a certain level of guts, shamelessness, and talking yourself through your fear. So will I be prolonging dating by waiting for it to dissapear entirely?

Well, I'm not going to date NOW. I can't deal with the prospect of having sex and honestly, I like putting out on the first or second date. At least if things go well.

I am freaked out by the possibility of having sex, but...I'm also starting to get a little excited about it, too. So I AM getting closer.

So how do I turn off my brainfears about things like losing my space and LIFE when I date?

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