ranting

when i reach this kind of sleepy depression. i can't get the oomph to write. sometimes hwen i'm just feeling kind of angsty, that's when i write the most. but when i reach this level, i can't seem to even function enough to write.

it has nothing to do with valentine's day. lemme tell ya. valentine's day is so silly.

god. i hate not even knowing where to start.

I think processing is exhausting. I was doing so well for over a month. surging. cresting. riding a wave of situation and epiphanies. and all that forward movement takes it toll. this is what i believe. i believe that movement , which is ..of course! ...positive. .. is also wearing on a person. and suddenly i was just so ...tired. and suddenly my reasons for socializing and doing the things i was doing was no longer enjoyment of people and fun but had turned like a worm...turned into me not wanting to be alone with myself.

i don't really miss matt. when i think of him i feel like a 400 lb weight is about to fall on me from the sky. he comes with so much emotional weight. but i miss the role he fills. (this is not saying i dont miss him at all. i just feel like it's probably better that we aren't hanging out). i have been...lonely. and i never want to be someone who, like matt, weilds their loneliness like a weapon *and* a shield. i mean, sitting across from someone and having them complain about loneliness. ...nobody wants to hear that stuff.

the funny thing is. i'm lonely while having socialized every night except maybe TWO ...in the past week and a half.

i cried on the bus yesterday, and i'm not even sure why. and i know exactly why.

and i convince myself i'm unimportant. he says "no time" i have to trust. but what i do to myself inside. what i do in my head. i decide it's justt that i'm not important enough for him to make the time. and it's so easy for me to convince myself i'm unimportant. it doesn't take much effort. and someone asked why it would be important if he has time or not. and i know... i should let go of that.

my counselor asked if i 'love myself' (god i hate therapy speak). i don't know! sometimes i think i'm the shit. and sometimes i'm so filled with self loathing i don't know how i manage to be polite to people. platonically, i guess..that's when i think i'm the shit. when i'm alone. all i'm aware of is how i'm addicted to love and intimacy and have forced myself to not seek it out for 2 years. and that forced separation from it, i am not sure if it's actually done me the good i wanted it to do me.

and i seek all my validation from people loving me. platonically and otherwise. i get all my feelings of self worth from the reflection of self i receive from others. it's that sense of well being that i don't get anywhere else. from myself, or work or exercise. only from others. and i irc and write in a diary and socialize and it's all a part of the bigger picture.

this is empty and can do me no good.

i feel like i have nothing to offer, half the time. and i need to feel like i have something to offer. i have to fucking stop this cycle.

i think , while this all feels hormonal...it's just a little too over the top. i recognize it and see where it's coming from. from a few little shocks to my system recently. i know how well i was doing and it was genuine. for two years i didn't allow touch. i wilted and shrunk in the face of skin and physical intimacy or affection. and while i wasn't and am not ready for much yet..the fact that i allowed and even wanted to touch someone. to have sex with another person. was monumental on an inside-of-heather sort of way. some petals were opening. and that felt great and still does. it was also strangely exhausting. so yea. it's situational ... a disappointment because i feel i fucked up a potential friendship with the person i think is neat but was too awkward about because of that very blossoming. . because i have a lot of good friends but really miss having at least one intimate friend... because ms. PhD says i've been sending out. ..not exactly 'giving' ..but expelling a lot of emotional energy but haven't gotten anything back in too long. so i feel drained. and it's his birthday next week. and he doesn't have time for me. and i feel that like cold water despite knowing that there are very very good valid reasons.

and on other fronts. a pervading feeling of rejection with another person.. not romantically, because that's fine...but as a person. and knowing .. it was inevitible.

and thinking lately about how obsessed i am with love. how many other things there are to life and how apathetic i can be about them. and this is SO MUCH Of the problem.

so last night, ms. PhD and i talked about when i stopped being able to be alone. when being alone started to feel like salt in a wound. ..

i described for her my perfect image of comfort/peace/contentment/happiness. it is an image of me leaning against the back of someone i love. (in the image it's usually that boy) ... he's wearing a tshirt and reading or playing music. doing his thing, and i'm leaning my forehead against his back and he reaches back to rub my leg. and we sit there in silence. and the feeling is one of relief. relief and peace.

so. a little history.

when i was little in vermont.... i was a book worm. a little awkward. surrounded by a lot of agricultural-parent-unit kids...while mine were hippy and weird and literate and ... i just didn't fit, somehow. i had one friend. I lived in the boonies. i was alone all the time. yes i was lonely but i didn't htink of it in terms like that. i made up for my lack of people with imaginary friends and i remember my childhood fondly. i had fun.

my mother was beautiful. so painfully young and beautiful. and superwoman. she made sure i went to ballet and took me rock climbing and camping and hiking and swimming. we were gone somewhere most every weekend. we went skiing and sledding right out our back door. but she wasn't nurturing. there were few cuddles. little touching. little "oh honeys" worry was often expressed through exasperation.

when i moved to king city. again..i lived in the boonies and had one friend. my family and i were very active, but ..lonely.

then i moved to the monterey area. and i blossomed. i was 15 and i had friends. a lot of friends. i spent a lot of time at home alone. (i had curfew and such, ya know) . i was becoming me. a social me. and then at 16 i fell in love. and i had my first serious boyfriend. we had sex. we spent just about every day together. lunches, mornings. evenings. and i discovered relief. i'd blossomed for one year and itw as wonderful but now i had someone who hugged me wheneveri needed it. who worried and it showed. who gave me all the touch i'd craved for 16 years without knowing it. who didn't tell me the things i did wrong, but instead knew the things i did wrong but only commented on the things i did right. (my mother felt the best way for me to learn was to hear how i did things wrong. i don't blame her for this. i just reacted to it the opposite of how she'd hope. i just heard what i did wrong and absorbed it )

i've never been in relationships just for the sake of being in one. but i got lucky and fell in love in succession. and learned how to live a life with that relief. that relief of never being alone again. of always being touched hugged kissed when i felt awful.

and suddenly ... the best of them all..ended andi was left feeling so raw and small and i think i punished myself by not allowing myself the thing i wanted most. touch and affection and intimacy. i shut down from most people. i learned to dance and smile and be a wonderful platonic friend but i had a certain level of wall that i'd never had before. but inside , while not allowing myself to have it, it was all i could think about. that which i'd lost. that which i wanted back. and validation . and self worth. and the more i obsessed over it the more i lost the parts of me i had to offer. til all i had to offer were the things i'd lost.

im addicted to intimacy. to the point that it engulfs everything else and ..

i'm lost, somewhere.

i spend all my time socializing so that i at least feel loved on some level. and then i wake up one day and i feel so stretched thin if someone pulled a little i might just snap.

and i realize that most of this is irrational and exhaustion and in a few days i won't feel this way

but it's always underneath somewhere. lurking.

so he went to 'the farm' to deal with his addictions to drugs and alcohol.

where do i go to deal with my addiction to people.

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