I keep wanting to write but find myself at a loss. All kinds of conflicting emotions are jamming my flow. Just writing that sentence felt better. Wow.
I have so much anxiety about my feelings for the Terminator (he’s so beyond that name right now) and wary of the anxiety. Feelings about feelings, great. Just shoot me.
But I have to untangle this knot of angst and examine it (my therapist would be so proud) to understand what’s going on in order to conquer it. Ignoring it/pretending its not happening? Did that for years. It destroys.
I’m sure many of you can identify what’s happening with no problem and ask why all the drama. Well. I grew up in a home where feelings were never acknowledged, never discussed and denied at every opportunity. I was raised to believe that emotions were bad things that made you weak and messy. We had our shit together, we didn’t have feelings. I’m still very new at handling deeply emotional situations. I have to pull everything apart and examine it piece by piece, like a kid taking apart a car or a computer to learn how it works. And it took me a week into this emotional shit storm to figure that out, so that tells you how uh, underdeveloped I am emotionally.
So to begin. The over-arching theme to my anxiety right now is fear. FEAR. The basic fear of being hurt, the fear of being rejected (dumped), the fear of having a relationship and what that means. What does it mean? Vulnerability – putting your heart in someone else’s care is scarier to me than fucking Afghanistan. Shit, veterans have the VA to help them re-adjust when they get back from the war, but there’s no Department of Broken Hearts and Devastated Lives to put me back together if a relationship blows up in my face.
Relationships also mean compromise, and in this case I already resent it. I want to do what I want to do when I want to do it. I want to make space in my life for my lover and that’s it. I don’t want entire families with back stories and dramas and bullshit that have to be dealt with, or that are going to affect my life in ways that I can’t yet predict. Not sexy. Not desirable. Also not reality.
Monogamy? Yeah, no way am I ready for that one. As I said to the ex – the thing that really kills me about the Terminator situation is that I had just started to have fun and fuck around. I mean I was barely out there three months before this happened, and there was no process. It was like a sledgehammer. In my case I didn’t even know it happened until I thought I would never see him again. So we’re now having process and amazing sex. But yes, when it happens suddenly and out of nowhere it is hard to get comfortable with or take seriously. Ambush is a good way to describe it.
Fear of becoming Mrs. Robinson. Oh yeah. The hot sophisticated older woman fucking a naive younger man — but wait, in this scenario we’re both sophisticated, and he is teaching me. But: fear of being cast aside when he falls in love with a younger woman. Jesus, just the thought of it kills me a little bit. There’s no insurance against it. It’s kind of inevitable. I should keep a bottle of Stoli in the freezer just in case…
There’s the fear that Terminator is not sincere, but manipulating me for whatever reason. That is my own paranoia. Damaged people can damage you so profoundly that you don’t even believe your own perception of reality. What centers me, calms me and brings me joy is the sound of his voice and how we are together.
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