nevermind.
it was all mistakes and misconceptions.
so just nevermind it away. and put nothing in its place on account of the soreness.
did that just happen?
The last 12 hours have been a whirlwind. Kayaking was great. Went out with a girlfriend and her new man (as an aside – she is totally headfirst diving into a new relationship – 4 weeks in and talking of moving out of state to be with him…reminds me of an old me). Came home, got in bed and – BAM – drunken text from newguy asking to crash on my couch so he doesn’t have to drive home (his house is about 20 minutes farther from downtown). I told him to call a cab. He was already driving to my place. And once here he got really apologetic and said he felt like he was crossing the line and being an asshole. “Well it may not be your classiest move ever,” I said, “but you’re here and you’re drunk and you’re giving me your keys. You can call a cab, let me drive you home, or crash on my couch. Regardless of how or why you got me involved, you did and now it’s my job to keep you safe.”
Fast-forward through the apologies and awkwardness to the point when he started to really talk honestly to me about what he was thinking and feeling. Damn. This guy needs IFS in his life. He described,unknowingly, some of his conflicting parts. Namely his protectors, who shut people out when he gets scared because he only feels safe on his own. And then the part that wants connection and feels it with me.
I feel like when he is really present with me, I’m able to be Self-led in our interactions. And that is hugely (a) new, and (b) awesome. It makes me want to call B and tell her. It makes me feel like my therapy is really working. So we came up with a sort of compromise that we both just be honest and tell each other exactly what we’re feeling – even if it’s “i’m scared out of my mind. it feels too close and i want to not see you for a week.” I really truly feel that I could hear that from this person and not take it personally. And I feel like he could do the same for me. I asked him to just tell me when the shutting out part was in high gear – just say “I’m freaking out and part of me wants to push you away”. He seemed genuinely amazed and appreciative of that freedom.
*sigh* I have no idea what our relationship will look like for awhile in terms of how much time spent together, how much physical intimacy, etc. but I feel confident that it will at least feel safe for both of us.
Taking back some control
Newguy and I had briefly discussed possibly taking our last whitewater kayaking lesson together this weekend. “It would have to be Sunday”, he said. “Well keep me posted on whether you want to do it together or separate”, I responded. And then I got invited to go to the movies on Sunday – actually 2 separate movie invites. My Saturday is wide open. So rather than sit around all day tomorrow anxious about whether he will or won’t call/text/facebook/etc. and miss out on movies, I’ve decided to go take my lesson solo – today – Saturday. Because I want to. Because I can. Because in some infinitesimal way, it gives me a little control. A little independence and autonomy. And because that’s part of the consequence of his ending our relationship – I get to do whatever the fuck I want.
I am in love with whitewater kayaking. And I want it to be my adventure – not dependent on someone I’m dating. I want to feel completely okay going out there on the water by myself. I want to meet a group of new friends out on the waves. My own little world that maybe I’ll share with someone one day but not because I have to for fear of being alone. In some ways I enjoy the fact that none of my friends are into whitewater kayaking. It’s mine.
2 conversations
I hate that I primarily post when things are going wrong. Much in my life has been going right of late so I hope I don’t paint the wrong picture.
Newguy finally called this evening and apologized for his distance this week. My head was all swimmy and my chest ached so I didn’t fully process much of his explanation. Something about feeling like he’s right back in a relationship and needing time to decompress. He thinks I’m awesome and still wants to hang out as friends. And all I heard was “I don’t like you”. And both of us were talking in circles with voices strained with attempts to bluff the other into thinking we’re apathetic to the situation. So after I quickly ended the conversation and hung up, I cried some more. And I called some friends (the couple who set us up). And I drove around in my car. I realized that the pain I was feeling told a lot. It was a sign that I had put myself out there in a way that I usually don’t. It meant that I allowed myself to truly care about someone -even if just a bit. It’s in a way that’s more real than I’ve ever allowed it to be. And the tears of this weekend (I think I’m up to four crying spells in three days now) means I’m actually feeling. I’m not dissociating or purging or drinking or rationalizing. I’m feeling. Miserable, but feeling. And way down somewhere deep I started feeling a tiny bit grateful for the experience – even if it’s just one to learn from. And I started to regret my reactionary, distant, hidden and altogether inauthentic response to Newguy’s explanation.
So I called him back an hour later. I explained that I wasn’t trying to be crazy or put pressure on him but that I really wanted to understand and that I hadn’t been able to be open to listening during our first conversation. So we talked. And it finally felt like the Newguy that I know and can be honest with one the phone. I think me bringing my real Self to the conversation allowed him to do the same. And he seemed completely honest and apologetic about the fact that he had only been out of a relationship for 2 weeks when we were set up and suddenly, despite all attempts to take it slow, he felt like he was back in a “couple” again. And he has doubts about the timing of that and wants to step back from it.
Okay, now I definitely have parts that want to take the whole thing personally and feel rejected (I hear ya loud and clear, parts!). But I also thought about the realization I had no too many months ago that I jump from one relationship to another without processing and returning to my own self. And I tried to be objective. I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone if the timing isn’t right and may come back to bite us in the ass. It sucks to be the innocent victim of someone else’s timing but perhaps I’m not. Maybe it’s a good thing that I also get some time to stop and refocus on me. I don’t want to hold my breath and of course I’ll go on living my life, but maybe in a few weeks or a few months Newguy will be ready and we’ll both be glad we took that time to be sure. And maybe he won’t and I’ll move on. Either way I guess conversation #2 made a lot of sense and made me quite proud of my Self.
Why is it so excruciating?
I have spent so fucking much of my life protecting myself from these very feelings: Rejection. Being left. Being unimportant to someone. Being too much of something or too little of something else in the eye’s of another. Not good enough.
And all the protective mechanisms in some way shape or form have worked – at least in the short haul. So at the urging of my therapists and my family and some crazy inner voice, I’ve tried to do it differently. To really be me – authentic, vulnerable, present.
And where does it get me? Hung out to dry. Passed over. Interesting for 6 weeks and nothing more. Dating in my past experiences hasn’t been like this. I have become semi-professional at contorting myself into exactly what the other person wants and then I feel secure. I feel comfortable. I don’t feel that aching uncertainty in my belly.
All because of how I feel now. I feel like shit. I let myself actually like someone for the right reasons. I let him like me for the right reasons. And he did. For a short while. And then something changed. And now I feel like a loser because he’s blowing me off. I am wholly unappealling to him, virtually overnight. But I must clarify – I’m not worth hanging out with, cuddling with or responding to correspondence from but apparently I still am worthy of text message updates as to what he’s doing. Don’t fake it buddy, that’s called stringing me along and confusing me. It’s not kind.
I FUCKING hate dating. It’s all about flying blind and getting hurt and being uncertain and vulnerable. On days like today I just think it’ll never work for me. I don’t know if I can keep doing it. Solitude feels safer.
distance
I’m really in uncharted waters for me. I feel like I just got dropped off at my first day of relationship kindergarten. A little panicked, a lot unanchored and quite lonely despite the close proximity of others.
I felt distance this week. After spending a weekend together last weekend, newguy and I didn’t see each other until tonight (that’s 3 days – God it feels like a month). He’s seemed a bit breezy in text messages and we only talked once on the phone. All of this is, I’m sure, not a big deal. But it leaves this chasm of distance from my vantage point. And when I did see him tonight it didn’t feel gushy and giddy. Kind of more “hey buddy” until our end of the night kiss. No mention of plans together this weekend. No desire to grab dinner together after our kayaking tonight. It’s making my head spin.
There is a part that hisses that I’m overreacting and if I mention anything about any of this to him I am immediately being needy and clingy and overwhelming. There is a part that senses rejection. There is a part that wonders if it’s all in my head. There is a part that thinks that distance after spending all weekend together is healthy. There is a part that wants to pack up shop and never talk to him again so as to avoid any future pain or rejection.
So here are some of those parts’ voices (no attempts to separate them out): I have been more authentic and simultaneously cautious with this person than I have in my history. I am not in love with him. We are, as mutually agreed upon recently, dating. No huge commitment. No exclusivity. I recognize on some level that just going about things the right way doesn’t make the right relationship – the other person has to be a match. But I was really excited about this – even excited about taking it slowly with someone. I was pleased with my ability to be honest with newguy.I got attached to the idea of having newguy around. And I think it would hurt a lot for this to fizzle. Because I’m attached to the idea of him or him? Honestly, I’m not sure. Why, in such a crucial time when I’m really feeling some strong sensations related to this distance, am I unable to judge whether or not it is sane and appropriate to bring them up.
I really don’t want to feel hurt and I am terrified that it might be lurking around the corner. I am really uncomfortable with my feelings this week.
where i am
where i am the ground moves so fast. the world’s a blur beneath scuffed toes sneakers tread with worn rubber. i hover most days. i miss credit card payments because the mail is stacked for weeks. the dishes attract fruit flies. every day feels like a game of catch up. and i feel a low-grade frustration that my feet won’t move fast enough.
where i am there is the promise of new love. but it’s slathered with thick black tar of honesty and vulnerability. this is progress, right? this request for time and space. so why does it feel so hollow and lonely and terrifying. why does it feel like rejection that this person is so willing to allow for my request to take it slow? is it supposed to feel this terrifyingly uncertain?
where i am there is mortality. there was a weekend visit to my grandmother, recently turned abruptly 180 degrees from her independence by a stroke. there was some time with my cousin. there was an inquiry about how my dad is doing….and why we don’t talk.
where i am there was a choked back upwelling of tears during an Avett Brothers song tonight. there are glasses of wine to stop the pressure in my throat and the heartbreak in my head.
where i am now has a new zipcode. but there is still, at the end of the day, me and my dog. the only one who really knows me.
trusting my gut
“gut”. ick. what a strange phrase, “gut instinct”. a bizarre suggestion to “trust your gut”. i hate my gut, both in the anatomical tissue and fat and skin sense and the biological functions – er…dysfunctions it contains. the vast majority of the time i either try to ignore my gut or become overcome with anxiety about what disasterous embarrassment it will serve up next in my day. 3 immodiums today. just because i was nervous that my lunch might maybe not perhaps sit well. just in case. can’t hurt. i’m probably the only bulimic on the planet who abuses antispasmodics instead of laxatives.
so the point is that somewhere beneath the softness and the jiggling, beneath the gurgling and the growling there seems to be an intuition the old adages refer to. and i can say with great confidence that I’m not often in close connection with said intuition.
but Saturday night, 4th of July, after much internal and vocalized parts arguing (commonly described as “wishy washy” “flip-flopping” or just plain indecisive), I went with my gut. i listened to the quieter parts. the ones that couldn’t explain exactly WHY they didn’t want to spend the night with a male friend at his family’s riverhouse. the ones that sat by through the “but he’ll think I’m a bitch if I leave” and the “but sex feels good” and the “but what if he’s the one“. the parts that just said quietly “you’ll feel more comfortable if you leave”. i listened. and i left. and i felt more comfortable.
i don’t know why I wouldn’t have felt comfortable staying. the anxiety of “what if i can’t sleep and I’m up all night” and “what if i get hungry in the night and there’s no safe food for me to eat” and “what if I stink up the bathroom in the morning” are just the superficial layer. beneath them it feels like more. more along the lines of “something about this person doesn’t make you feel relaxed and emotionally safe”. and that is not to say that said person is anything but a wonderful human being. it just means it didn’t feel ‘right’ to some of my parts. B. has really been encouraging me to notice what parts get activated around different people. i think if i successfully did that that i’d understand my behaviors (sane and otherwise) in relationships (platonic and romantic). so saturday i trusted my gut. i listened to the part that i never really listen to. the part that’s looking out for me.
Post-therapy wrap-up
Therapy (on the phone) was really helpful today. I gained some nice new understanding of:
(1) how badly some of my parts want to reach out to others with authenticity, a touch of vulnerability and needs
(2) the protector part that jumps in the way of the above coming to fruition. the people-pleasing impulsive talking part who betrays all the vulnerability, the emotion, the “true” me in an effort to keep the whole system safe
(3)the reinforcement that the protector part receives each time I welcome into my life the types of people who will replicate the patterns of my youth.
What I’m left with is this: I want to do it differently this time. I want to figure out first how to distinguish those people who are NOT like my family of origin and who are safe to be me around and then how to let those people in a bit. The first part is crucial to remember because I definitely have “good therapy” parts who think that experiencing my emotions and being vulnerable is the end goal of therapy. But what’s the point if I finally get to that place with people who mistreat me again? No, I have to figure out before hand if my parts feel safe. B. says it’s just a process of being aware of what parts are most “in the living room” when I spend time with people. Examining what comes up when I’m with them. Awareness is not something I’ve been cultivating a lot of lately. I’ve been busy and distracted and ungrounded. Kayaking and yoga are top priorities for the week. Maybe listen to a guided meditation. Best of intentions…we’ll see how it works out.
Chronicles of the Digestively Challenged
It has been a trying week for me. A sudden and severe onset of Strep Throat had me bed ridden Wednesday and Thursday and then I developed a stomach ulcer of still undetermined severity as a result of excessive ibuprofen (ab)use. Neither the strep nor the stomach pain kept me from travelling to the beach for a friend’s wedding. Where I continued my suffering in a more public venue and wound up in the Urgent Care. Travelling is always difficult because of my gluten-free diet, social gatherings can be emotional because of the emphasis on food and to top it all off, my body was staging a revolt of epic proportions. The stomach pains came in scorching waves which increased in intensity with hunger. Combining the lack of available gluten-free foods with the fact that a near empty belly was excruciating with the fact that I feel like a pig when I have to eat every 1.5 hours left me absolutely depressed. It doesn’t take much these days to stir up the pity party about how I fucking despise food. I hate everyone talking about it and eating it and enjoying it and I can’t eat anything but dry lettuce because I’ll have explosive diarrhea in the shared hotel bathroom if I so much as look at a french fry or marinated piece of chicken. “My body hates me.” ” It doesn’t work right. ” “I’m just allergic to food.” “I never want to eat again as long as I live.” And then it starts crossing the lines from frustrated Celiac thoughts to eating disordered thoughts. The hopelessness, the frustration, the grief that I’ll never be able to have a normal life. And for some that may sound like an exaggeration because lots of people have food allergies and what’s the big deal about not eating bread? But at this point I feel like I will never again be able to eat food prepared by anyone but me. I will undoubtedly have explosive diarrhea the morning after I spend the night with any new love interest (which leads to anxiety which means I am unbelievably anxious for approximately the first 6 months of all relationships that my stomachwill make some other worldly noise or I will stink up a bathroom). I will never be able to travel without a grocery bag of food (which totally fucks with my eating disordered voices). I will never be able to be spontaneous. I will never be able to eat Thanksgiving dinner prepared by others.
I am sorry. I am just really downtrodden about the whole thing and I’m not totally sure why it’s coming to a head lately.