Change is good? Right?

Moved into my own place recently and I thought it would be exciting to have my own space and grow more into my independence. Or so I thought. The first week in my new home, I cried while I looked around my empty living room. Looking at the empty space made me feel sad. I took it a step further mentally (what else is new) and considered it indicative of my life in general; emptiness. 

I know the remedy of my problem. To make my place feel cozy and warm. To make it feel like a home to me. I’m slowly getting there. 

Tonight, I feel lonely in my bed. I haven’t been physically touched by a romantic partner in quite a long time. I crave it on a constant basis. Thoughts of this consistently run through my mind. I want to feel bonded to someone mentally and physically. 

I think back to that Tarot reading I had at the metaphysical shop, where I received a card where I was to have two lovers to choose from. I wish for either or both to come into my life sooner. 

My bed and my heart feels empty just like my living room. 

Ruminative.

Whoever said that college was the best time of your life…is a fucking liar. I look back at these years as I near the finish line with sadness. I experienced and continue to experience so much loneliness. Loneliness that turned me to emotional eating and being with people who didn’t lift my spirit up and push me to better myself. I could be in a room full of people, and still feel absolutely lonely. I didn’t fit in. I have never since I have became consciously aware of it,  felt like I fitted in with others. I didn’t really connect with others on more then what I deem an “associate level”.

I don’t know what is wrong with me. Will I feel like this the rest of my life? Because I don’t want to feel like that.

I’m reading self-help books on finding happiness and learning to love yourself, and trying to find answers to why I feel like there has to be more to life then what society tells us what life is.

Sigh…it’s 5am and once again my mind is thinking about things I should not be focusing on.

Falyn, out.

Hello 2am thoughts. 

This blog has become depressing and filled with sadness. I keep telling myself that I will stop it. I will go back to exploring my kinky side and BDSM.

 I don’t feel like I’m the same person this time last year. I feel aged and tired. Not physically, but mentally. 

Randomly I wrote a list of reasons why I will never find love and attempted to share it with my therapist. Thankfully she stopped me before I began. 

It amazes me that I spent time out of my day to write so much negativity. When I could have wrote positive things about myself. 

I look at my list and I want to write more. Why? I don’t know, maybe pain and hurt is comfortable to me. It’s easy for me to feel hurt then to attempt to feel happiness.

  1. Sex scares me. Majority of the fear is from the physical pain. My mind has associated penetration with pain. I may have vaginisms. I also feel anxiety knowing that there is a chance I will imagine my abuser doing those acts instead of someone I feel comfortable being intimate with. He already invades my dreams, of course he would invade my mind in reality.
  2. I don’t know how to kiss at the age of 22. I have never been in a true relationship. I don’t count the 3 month stunt with the Tinder guy who turned out to be a cheater and a douchebag. French kissing gives me so much anxiety. How does a person French kiss? 
  3. My body. Where do I begin? Stretch marks everywhere, size 11 feet, a wide back, lack of an ass, slowly having a double chin, a wide nose and only 1 freaking dimple when I smile, thunderthighs, lack of a thigh gap, cellulite, sensitive skin, discoloration from genetics, kinky hair that shrinks when wet. 
  4. Social anxiety. Lost two good friends that I have known since junior high. Neglected potential friendships while I’m in college, because I naively thought that these girls were all I needed because the bond over the years has been groaning beautifully and stronger. That was a fucking lie. Don’t have any friends now really since it is hard for me to open up to people because I felt like I have never been normal as a child and now as an adult. I have always felt that I don’t fit in with others. 
  5. I sabotage friendships and people who could have been a friend to me. I hurt inside; and when I see that they are not hurting but happy, it hurts me more. Which then makes me want to cause them to feel the hurt I feel. 
  6. My “Miss” persona in BDSM is my mask when I feel hurt. It distracts people from seeing a broken soul underneath.
  7. I went against my values and signed up for a sugar baby/daddy website. I feel dirty and wrong inside, even though the only thing I did was sign up. 
  8. I just want to be loved and hold and kissed. That someone will tell me that everything is going to be okay. To have someone look at me and know my emotions…to be connected and attuned to me in that way. I want someone to finally choose ME. Pick ME. I’m worth it aren’t I? 

    My Truth. 

    Someone recently showed me the person I truly am. I was lying to myself that I could feel like a Goddess and be secure within myself and find happiness. That I was a good person. 

    Looking into the mirror they hold up for me, I saw my soul for what it really is. And it’s not what I thought it was…it’s broken. Shards are missing. It’s dark and cloudy. 

    This whole time I was lying to myself. 

    My Shame- Infatuation.

    love-vs-infatuation

    Recently I wrote a snippet on infatuation. That I was experiencing it with someone who is off limits. I feel like I’m in a better position, a better mindset to write about it. I haven’t felt that way in years. Probably since I was in grade school. I didn’t expect to have it happen to me again, honestly. It just sorta sneaked up on me.

    He was someone that listened to me. Was engaging with me. Even though the conversations we have had were always platonic in nature, my mind was having a lot of inappropriate thoughts about him. Some sexual wise, but inappropriate in the sense that he was married with grown children. But I suppose in my mind that didn’t matter as much as it should have. For the first time in my life, I felt like someone was really seeing me. I felt that I was being heard, that someone was taking up interest in me. I have always been the one who has pursued a man or woman, who asked open-ended questions, who took the lead when really I wanted someone to do those things instead of me.

    I liked the fact that he was older and from our conversations had some wisdom that came with age. I secretly looked forward to any interactions I had with him. I would get these tiny, small butterflies fluttering in my stomach. In the back of my mind I knew it was wrong to feel this way. He was married, and here I am creating opportunities to talk to him. Shamefully though, 98% percent of me didn’t want this happening, 2% of me did and wanted him and his wife to divorce. Of course what I’m experiencing physically and mentally goes against my values, I couldn’t help myself. I had thoughts of what it would be like to have him kiss me, I thought what it would be like to have him make love to me…

    When I decided that enough was enough, I did my best to avoid him and keep our conversations short. Which was obvious to him I’m sure. It seemed like every time I tried to avoid him, an unseen force who was sadistic, would try to fight against that. As in, I would run into him even though I went out of my way to avoid him. When I walked to a different part of a building, there he is. It felt like I couldn’t get away from him.

    I decided to talk to my therapist about all of this, because guilt was eating me up. I’m not a person who does the acts above when the recipient is married. My therapist shared with me a different mindset that I did not consider before. That I maybe did not like him specifically in that way because of who he is, but maybe instead the qualities he possessed. The qualities I want in a partner is what he had. And strangely, when I looked through this lens my therapist gave me, my infatuation slowly dissipated. My constant thoughts of him were getting lesser. I did not feel those butterflies anymore. I could walk past him and feel nothing.

    I wonder for those who act upon this infatuation, what exactly is the defining moment that they cross that line in front of them. In no way would I judge someone who is in a relationship or marriage and decides to go down that road, because who knows maybe that could be me; but I have this curiosity of what makes someone cross that line outside of their relationship, either emotionally or physically.

    I don’t know, maybe if I could find this answer, in future relationships I can on my end at least avoid it from happening.

    Wake Up. 

    I have been holding onto hope that there is still some humanity in this world. But there isn’t. This world is complete madness, filled with honestly the seven deadly sins. 

    Children are being raped and murdered. Child Protective Service continues to allow children to go back to their abusive homes when multiple reports have been filed. 

    This government in this society I live in is corrupt to the core. We have a reality tv celebrity as our president. People, mostly white, uneducated, men…voted for this man. 

    Police brutality against miniorities just baffles me. Idiots in this world actually believe that racism no longer exists, that white privilege is made up by “angry lesbian feminist”…I just don’t know how much more I can take of this world.

    The fact that we give millions of dollars to basketball players and football players and to other entertainers when we give NOTHING to teachers and social workers and mental health practitioners. People who are contributing to society, who are educating youth. The fact that we idolize celebrities. Worship them as if they aren’t one of us. As if they are Gods. 

    My mind cannot even begin to process what is going on in this world. I don’t trust anyone in this world. It truly is every man for himself. Humanity is dead. And we as a society do nothing as we let these things continue to happen. We continue to sleep. We bitch about it to our spouses and loved ones, and go about our day. 

    Why not do something to create change? 

    I don’t know how I could bring a child into this world. I don’t think I want to. My child deserves a world so much better then this. Deserves a world where he/she can be who they are and not feel scared. 

    What I’m doing in my career, advocating for those who can’t, is small, but it is something. 

    What are you doing?