I've come to the realization that I spent most of my energy not taken
by work, or work, or theatre, consumed with relationships. I'm either
figuring out how to get into one, how to get out of one, how to get over
one, and why I'm not in one.And I know you're reading this, going "Oh,
great, here he goes again..." and are preparing to go back to
your newsfeed, or at the very least, grimacing because you know I'm
going to say the same thing I always say when I go on one of these
tirades...and I'm sorry, because you're mostly right. Lesbi-honest, if
you had a nickel for every time I've said "I'm done!" or "I'm never
dating again" or "I'm just taking some time for myself", well, most of
you would be millionaires (especially if you just had one for every time
I've thought one of those things.)
What I
need is to figure out how to stick to my guns whenever I get into that
line of thought. Usually what happens is, I'll stick to it for a
certain amount of time, and then I think "Oh....it couldn't hurt to just
see what's out there..." and before you know it, the cycle starts all
over again. For some of that, it's just how I'm hard-wired. I have
wanted to be in love before I even really knew what it meant. And you
would think, given some of the bullsh*t I've been through, that I would
finally say "enough is enough; this isn't meant for me, no matter how
much I want it." But no. I keep on.
A good friend and I
were discussing being rejected theatrically versus being rejected
romantically, and it finally clicked for me when I said to her "If I'm
rejected for a role, I'm rejected as an actor. If I'm rejected
romantically, I'm rejected as an entire person." You can agree or
disagree; it's just how it looks in my head. I feel like I'm doing
anything and everything I can to make it happen. I've "put myself out
there." I've "stopped looking." I've been set up with friends of
friends. I've tried online dating. I've asked out perfect strangers. I
even went on one straight-up blind date (well, it was blind for me;
he'd seen me in a show but I had no idea what he looked like, or
anything.) I have leapt without looking, dived right in and went with
the moment. I have sat and carefully considered each and every piece of
new information to make sure I was making the right choice. I've met
some really great guys, and some real jerks, and some great guys who
acted like jerks at the end. I've gone with my gut, and I've given it
time. And yet, I still feel like what I want is impossible, because I
want there to be mutual attraction, mutual respect, and mutual
feelings...and here I sit, table for one.
So, at risk of
having to eat my words (although sometime I wonder if I say them so
often so I will HAVE to eat them later), it's time for me to get serious
about putting my money where my mouth is. Because I can't keep feeling
badly about myself for being single, or being rejected, and I can't
keep feeling like I'm annoying people or being a real drag because I'm
upset because I'm single or being treated poorly in a relationship. I
don't know what the answer is--not true...the answer would be for me to
meet someone where everything lines up (not EVERYTHING, just the major
stuff) and we're on the same page at the same time--but I need to figure
it out anyway.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Friday, October 25, 2013
Clarity
I thought it would be easier.
I thought I would bury the hatchet, make my peace, and that would be that.
But no, you had to take it to the next level and try to worm your way back into my life. Except you expected me to do all the work, and to take whatever crumbs you would throw my way. And the moment there was the least bit of resistance, that was all she wrote.
I found myself getting incredibly jealous and angry this afternoon because of posts popping up in my feed in regards to your event. I'm jealous because so many people think you're just wonderful, and while I know you can be wonderful, I feel like the kid at the end of "The Emperor's New Clothes" yelling--SPOILER ALERT--that the emperor is naked. But that doesn't stop people from staying in your good graces...and the more I type this, the more I realize it isn't about you at all, but it's about me.
It's about me not being happy with myself, with feeling like just because people aren't clamoring to be a part of my events or saying "hey, we'd really like you to be a part of this*" that it means something is wrong with me. And that is just not true.
So, as is typical of these posts, I find myself changing thoughts midstream, and reminding myself that just because I'm not a part of the "in" crowd doesn't mean I'm any less of a person. And while it does stink to feel left out, I really have to stop and consider the overall situation, and to think of all the things I *do* have. I don't hate you and I don't think you're an awful person. I just realize that the cost of being a part of your group is not worth my self-respect.
*as I was typing that, I realized I was incorrect, because there is a group that has, on more than one occasion, said specifically to me "hey, we'd really like you to be a part of this" and I'm always happy to oblige if I can. So, I'm self-correcting.
I thought I would bury the hatchet, make my peace, and that would be that.
But no, you had to take it to the next level and try to worm your way back into my life. Except you expected me to do all the work, and to take whatever crumbs you would throw my way. And the moment there was the least bit of resistance, that was all she wrote.
I found myself getting incredibly jealous and angry this afternoon because of posts popping up in my feed in regards to your event. I'm jealous because so many people think you're just wonderful, and while I know you can be wonderful, I feel like the kid at the end of "The Emperor's New Clothes" yelling--SPOILER ALERT--that the emperor is naked. But that doesn't stop people from staying in your good graces...and the more I type this, the more I realize it isn't about you at all, but it's about me.
It's about me not being happy with myself, with feeling like just because people aren't clamoring to be a part of my events or saying "hey, we'd really like you to be a part of this*" that it means something is wrong with me. And that is just not true.
So, as is typical of these posts, I find myself changing thoughts midstream, and reminding myself that just because I'm not a part of the "in" crowd doesn't mean I'm any less of a person. And while it does stink to feel left out, I really have to stop and consider the overall situation, and to think of all the things I *do* have. I don't hate you and I don't think you're an awful person. I just realize that the cost of being a part of your group is not worth my self-respect.
*as I was typing that, I realized I was incorrect, because there is a group that has, on more than one occasion, said specifically to me "hey, we'd really like you to be a part of this" and I'm always happy to oblige if I can. So, I'm self-correcting.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Whoops.
I made a big mistake yesterday. (And in retrospect, I don't even know why I did it. But if I were looking to cast a pall on the rest of my day, that did the trick.)
For some unfathomable reason (we'll go with morbid curiosity,) I decided to unblock my ex on Facebook. Now, we have not been in contact since he pulled his second disappearing act. No, the blocking was so that I would stop torturing myself by visiting his page; never mind the fact that I can only see his profile picture and whatever asinine comments people leave on them, just seeing when he'd changed it was enough to send me into a downward spiral. ("How DARE he have a life without me?")
And sure enough, as soon as that face popped up, I reopened all sorts of old wounds. I am reminded of a crass, but fitting, expression about how you can't put the poop back into the goose. I couldn't unfeel those feelings, I couldn't not see that face and how it is familiar yet strange all at the same time, and thanks to some stupid Facebook rule, I couldn't block him for 48 hours. (I really think there needs to be an override option for exes.)
I spent the rest of the day and night in a foul mood. I was angry, with myself and with him. But more importantly, I was hurt. I joked above about feeling like he shouldn't have a life without me, but the joke carries a lot of truth. It hurt to see that he is still out having fun and living it up, when everything he told me--possibly going all the way back to the very beginning--was a lie. It's not fair. He had made a comment on it about how his lunch companion only had a few more minutes before they had to be back to work, which immediately set me jumping to conclusions about him probably having someone new (which also is not fair, considering I was the one who got dumped.) It was just a mess in my brain.
But if you know me, or have read this for any length of time, then you know that I analyze everything. And I kept trying to get to the root of why it hurt so badly. People get dumped. We only dated for six weeks. He truly exhibits Narcissistic and even sociopathic behaviors. And like a 3D "Magic Eye" picture, it finally came to me when I relaxed for a moment.
It hurt because it proves my fear, that guys that I like don't actually like me. That guys will say things like:
"you're wonderful"
"there is only one you"
"you're sexy and amazing and I'm glad you're my boyfriend"
"I love you"
...but not really mean them. I have pointed out to friends guys that I have had crushes on, or have found attractive, and it is usually followed up with "even if he were gay, guys like that are never interested in guys like me." And this most recent dating foray (from ten months ago--almost a year already!) is the biggest, most prevalent example I have of that being true.
If I go back to my last serious relationship, he, too, proved time and again that he did not really love me. I think he loved the idea of me, but actual-me? No. And I'm at the point where whenever someone tells me he likes me or is interested in me, whether or not I'm interested back, I don't believe them. There is always a catch. There is always an ulterior motive. There is always a time when they no longer mean what they say (provided they ever meant it at all.) There is always a time when the mask gets removed, the plot twist is revealed, and the house of cards comes crashing down. And it sucks, because clearly other people have healthy, working, long-lasting relationships.
I suppose the benefit to this is that now I can stop worry about it. I can stop chasing something that clearly is not meant for me. They say that the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over, expecting different results. So, let's stop that crazy ride now and save time, disappointment, and heartbreak in the long run, yeah?
For some unfathomable reason (we'll go with morbid curiosity,) I decided to unblock my ex on Facebook. Now, we have not been in contact since he pulled his second disappearing act. No, the blocking was so that I would stop torturing myself by visiting his page; never mind the fact that I can only see his profile picture and whatever asinine comments people leave on them, just seeing when he'd changed it was enough to send me into a downward spiral. ("How DARE he have a life without me?")
And sure enough, as soon as that face popped up, I reopened all sorts of old wounds. I am reminded of a crass, but fitting, expression about how you can't put the poop back into the goose. I couldn't unfeel those feelings, I couldn't not see that face and how it is familiar yet strange all at the same time, and thanks to some stupid Facebook rule, I couldn't block him for 48 hours. (I really think there needs to be an override option for exes.)
I spent the rest of the day and night in a foul mood. I was angry, with myself and with him. But more importantly, I was hurt. I joked above about feeling like he shouldn't have a life without me, but the joke carries a lot of truth. It hurt to see that he is still out having fun and living it up, when everything he told me--possibly going all the way back to the very beginning--was a lie. It's not fair. He had made a comment on it about how his lunch companion only had a few more minutes before they had to be back to work, which immediately set me jumping to conclusions about him probably having someone new (which also is not fair, considering I was the one who got dumped.) It was just a mess in my brain.
But if you know me, or have read this for any length of time, then you know that I analyze everything. And I kept trying to get to the root of why it hurt so badly. People get dumped. We only dated for six weeks. He truly exhibits Narcissistic and even sociopathic behaviors. And like a 3D "Magic Eye" picture, it finally came to me when I relaxed for a moment.
It hurt because it proves my fear, that guys that I like don't actually like me. That guys will say things like:
"you're wonderful"
"there is only one you"
"you're sexy and amazing and I'm glad you're my boyfriend"
"I love you"
...but not really mean them. I have pointed out to friends guys that I have had crushes on, or have found attractive, and it is usually followed up with "even if he were gay, guys like that are never interested in guys like me." And this most recent dating foray (from ten months ago--almost a year already!) is the biggest, most prevalent example I have of that being true.
If I go back to my last serious relationship, he, too, proved time and again that he did not really love me. I think he loved the idea of me, but actual-me? No. And I'm at the point where whenever someone tells me he likes me or is interested in me, whether or not I'm interested back, I don't believe them. There is always a catch. There is always an ulterior motive. There is always a time when they no longer mean what they say (provided they ever meant it at all.) There is always a time when the mask gets removed, the plot twist is revealed, and the house of cards comes crashing down. And it sucks, because clearly other people have healthy, working, long-lasting relationships.
I suppose the benefit to this is that now I can stop worry about it. I can stop chasing something that clearly is not meant for me. They say that the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over, expecting different results. So, let's stop that crazy ride now and save time, disappointment, and heartbreak in the long run, yeah?
Monday, July 1, 2013
Heart. Less.
I think I am done caring. I think that trying to be a good person, a polite person, a friendly, "hey, I'm here if you ever need to talk" person, has left me tapped out. I honestly don't think I have anything left to give. And right now, I'm completely okay with that.
I'm not a perfect person by any means, and I hope I never come across as someone who thinks he is perfect. But I try very hard to be a good friend to people, to be personable and helpful...and it seems lately that no one really cares if you're helpful or not, until they need something. But once you fulfill whatever need they have, you're done...until the next time. I realize that to an extent, we are ALL guilty of this, and I try my best to not be that kind of person. But damn, it sucks.
My therapist has mentioned on more than one occasion that she feels it was my kind heart that attracted T to me, and that caused him to show me the person he wanted me to see instead of the soulless subhumanoid he is. I think that there could be something to that, as loathe as I am to admit that I was a bit of a sitting duck for whatever bullshit games he wanted to play. And I don't know how to keep that part of myself from shining through so that others who are of the same mindset cannot use it to their own twisted advantage.
I have frequently felt that I am a living example of nice guys finishing last. I'm the one that people know they can depend on, but the rest of the time, well, I might as well get stuffed. So...the hell with it. I'm tired of being a doormat, of being disposable, of feeling tattered and scarred. This dependable guy is shutting it down. If being an openhearted, caring, lovely person only gets you used and not respected, not appreciated, (because in the long run, who really wants a nice guy?), then screw it. I'm done.
As one of my favorite musicals says,
Alright, enough! So be it! So be it, then.
Let all Oz be agreed: I'm wicked through and through...
I'm not a perfect person by any means, and I hope I never come across as someone who thinks he is perfect. But I try very hard to be a good friend to people, to be personable and helpful...and it seems lately that no one really cares if you're helpful or not, until they need something. But once you fulfill whatever need they have, you're done...until the next time. I realize that to an extent, we are ALL guilty of this, and I try my best to not be that kind of person. But damn, it sucks.
My therapist has mentioned on more than one occasion that she feels it was my kind heart that attracted T to me, and that caused him to show me the person he wanted me to see instead of the soulless subhumanoid he is. I think that there could be something to that, as loathe as I am to admit that I was a bit of a sitting duck for whatever bullshit games he wanted to play. And I don't know how to keep that part of myself from shining through so that others who are of the same mindset cannot use it to their own twisted advantage.
I have frequently felt that I am a living example of nice guys finishing last. I'm the one that people know they can depend on, but the rest of the time, well, I might as well get stuffed. So...the hell with it. I'm tired of being a doormat, of being disposable, of feeling tattered and scarred. This dependable guy is shutting it down. If being an openhearted, caring, lovely person only gets you used and not respected, not appreciated, (because in the long run, who really wants a nice guy?), then screw it. I'm done.
As one of my favorite musicals says,
Alright, enough! So be it! So be it, then.
Let all Oz be agreed: I'm wicked through and through...
Monday, June 24, 2013
Always a bridesmaid...
Once upon a time, there lived a prince. This prince was a
sincere, genuine, funny, caring, and all-around good guy…but he was
cursed. The curse worked thusly: our prince (let us call him Alexander)
would meet another prince (or a pauper—he wasn’t a snob), someone who
really knocked his socks off, but there was always an obstacle.
Sometimes the other prince would not be into princes, only princesses.
Sometimes the other prince would be into Alexander, but would soon prove
himself to be entirely unsuitable. The worst, however, would be when
the other prince would say that Alexander was “a very nice prince, but
I’m just not into you in that way.” They would go on to say that they
knew he would be a catch for someone, and while Alexander knew they
meant well, hearing that only made it worse. As time went on, Alexander
felt his opportunities slipping further and further away…
So…yeah. I’m not sure why, but it seems that lately I’m wonderful…but for someone else. I’m tired of being the friend, the secondary, supporting character in the rom-com/drama that is MY life. It’s ridiculous, and even more so, it’s discouraging. It effing sucks.
And yet I plaster a smile to my face and make myself available as a friend, because what else can you do? What freaking good is it to be “a catch” if no one’s interested in actually catching you? I give. The romantic, mushy, lovey-dovey side to me? It’s getting locked away. I’d rather have it collecting dust in a locked room than continually getting chipped away at by everyday life.
So…yeah. I’m not sure why, but it seems that lately I’m wonderful…but for someone else. I’m tired of being the friend, the secondary, supporting character in the rom-com/drama that is MY life. It’s ridiculous, and even more so, it’s discouraging. It effing sucks.
And yet I plaster a smile to my face and make myself available as a friend, because what else can you do? What freaking good is it to be “a catch” if no one’s interested in actually catching you? I give. The romantic, mushy, lovey-dovey side to me? It’s getting locked away. I’d rather have it collecting dust in a locked room than continually getting chipped away at by everyday life.
And he lived happily ever after...
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
