Monday, July 30, 2012
I'm so messed up I don't know which way is up
Maybe the title isn't exactly accurate. Maybe, I just think I am messed up and the reality is the we are all messed up and that is what makes us ok. I like that idea. It makes my insanity and imbalance seem...well normal. I think crazy is the new normal, because in so many ways we are all effed up but that's another blog.
In my very first blog I alluded to the idea that my body wasn't my own. Being raped isn't a simple thing to get over. I am still not over it. I still have fear even thinking about intimate relationships even though I crave them.
I am addicted to relationships. Straight up, totally and completely. Its not the sex. Its the attention. I especially loved the high from a new one. Now, I don't crave it, but I find that I have no freaking clue what to do with myself.
I do not know how to be alone.
I have bounced from relationship to relationship non stop since I was 14 or so. No. lie. Never been single.
I don't say this to be conceited...but someone always wanted me. Why, hell if I know. I even gained weight to try and stop it. Nothing stopped it.
I hate it. I am a loyal person, but I craved the attention just like a little kid.
I don't really feel that way now, but I feel so lonely and just shitty.
I'm not flirting with anyone. I'm not resorting to my old tactics. I had skills to meet my needs. Serious skills.
Just like any addict knows how to score their drug of choice, I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt that if I got myself all dressed up and went out, I could get hit on and laugh and be amused...blah blah blah. Then feel like total shit. But I would score. I would get that temporary high. I would feel wanted.
After I was raped as a teen, I turned being wanted into my high, my way to feel better, to escape. I HATED myself every fucking time. I know it really doesn't make sense. It wasn't the sex I wanted, it was the being wanted that I wanted. I was addicted to being wanted, to being attractive. Giving them sex was the BAD part, the part I did with my head turned and my heart locked up and hating myself every single time and hoping maybe they saw me as something more than just a piece of ass. I didn't know how to say no, I didn't know how to be true to myself. To this day I am most definitely afraid of most men. So, why as a very young woman would I fight after I had been violated so badly?
To top it all off, before I ran wild, when I had "the" boyfriend, he told me I was a slut all the time anyway. He manipulated me into doing things with him all the time. He threatened to leave if I didn't perform. He was my first, it was supposed to be special. He was supposed to sweet and kind. He was no different than any of the other assholes, only worse because he said he loved me while he made me do it.
You would think that after all of this and all of the shit relationships I attempted after my teen years that I would not care and I would want to be alone.
I. don't. know. how.
I am smart enough to stay away from bars and my triggers just like any addict.
But I lay in bed at night and ache. I don't think about what happened. I am just so sad. So alone. I can handle it all day. It isn't about sex at all. It isn't about the ex Mr Brady...It is about simply being.
I don't even know why...
I'm just so sad.
I'm not sorry the relationship is over. I am not unhappy with the path I am on.
Maybe I am just finally grieving for the 17 yr old me who started on a path of life without loving herself...
Maybe I need to just forgive myself for what I DID then and realize its ok.
This isn't a standard addiction, I am not addicted to sex...(I could care less about getting off) I like being found attractive. There is no rule book or meeting for me.
I was called so many names, by so many people. I had a reputation BEFORE I earned it. I became the slut I was told I was. I just let it happen. I heard it and cried and didn't know how to make it stop. My senior year was one of the worst years of my life.
I can't even begin to tell you nor do I wish to tell you how bad it was before I settled down and had my son.
None of it was the truth. I was a very hurt young girl that no one noticed and no one saw was in pain. All they saw was what they wanted to see.
If you take one thing from this. Just one. Never, ever, ever take what you see with your teenagers at face value. BUTT in their business. Snoop. Love them enough to make sure and ask if they are ok and KNOW them well enough to know if they lie.
My mother never asked me what really happened the first time. She might have prevented the second.
She never noticed much about me at all or asked. I drive my kids nuts with questions.
I love you guys.