It's a GAD GAD World
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
First, an update since my last post.
I've now seen my new psychiatrist twice. A nice lady with a thick Russian accent. Like my former psychiatrist, she is not a therapist. But UNLIKE my former psychiatrist, she does want to take the time to talk to me and ask me how I'm doing.
And no, I did not see the cute guy I alluded to in my last post. But I will be seeing him on Friday.
So last week I used the Bed Bath & Beyond coupon I got in the mail and bought myself a scale. I'd never owned one before, and we never had one in the house. Jesus, what a wake-up call. I'm not going to say how much I weigh, but I'm about 10 pounds away from being Kirstie Alley.
To paraphrase Ms. Alley, it's time for me to lose my ass and regain my life.
I started this blog over a year ago with the intention of blurting out all the things that are going on inside my head that I don't feel comfortable sharing with anyone. During my first appointment with my new psychiatrist, she strongly suggested to me that I see a therapist. That suggestion is what's prompting me to act in this blog now. I know I've got stuff I need to talk about. But I just can't walk into a total stranger's office and spill my guts. So I've decided to spill my guts here in front of God only knows how many strangers.
So hopefully for the next few blogs I'm going to talk about deep dark personal stuff. It may not make for very interesting reading, but maybe I'll achieve some peace by getting these wounds out into the open. Then maybe they'll heal or something.
OK, time for the first deep dark revelation. Are you ready? I've never had a real boyfriend. Am I even allowed to use the word "boyfriend" at my age? But that's right, I'm a 34-year-old loser in the love department. I was in a relationship for about 5 months when I was in college. But I don't consider him a "real" boyfriend because he was abusive towards me. He didn't beat me or rape me or anything like that, but he wasn't a nice person and he didn't treat me very well. Sometimes the bruises you don't see are the ones that take the longest to heal.
I wish I could say that the reason I haven't been with anyone since is because I've been hurt and I'm afraid of being burned and all that. I suppose all of that is true to some extent, but the real reason I haven't been with anyone is because no one has wanted me.
I've been interested in men. I've actively pursued men. I've cared deeply for men. But my efforts have been for nothing. And it's not like I'm picky, at least not in the physical sense. If you were to take all the men I've ever been attracted to and put them in a room, you wouldn't see a pattern. I've been attracted to short men, tall men, dark-haired men, blonde men, hairy men, not-so-hairy men, big burly ox-men, thin-as-a-beanpole men. The men I'm attracted to have nothing in common physically. What they do tend to have in common is 1) they're intelligent or have some special talent that blows me away, and 2) they were nice to me. Isn't that pathetic? That's all it takes, guys. Have half a brain in your head and be nice to me, and I'm yours. (For the record, the cute guy I'm hoping to see on Friday is short & dark-haired. The guy I worked with at the tax firm is almost 6 ft tall with blue eyes and thinning hair.)
Through the better part of my twenties I used to spend hours and hours crying myself to sleep at night trying to figure out what was so terrible and horrible and awful about me that no man would want me. And to this day when I'm in one of my low self-esteem phases I'll tell myself it's because I'm fat & ugly. But the truth is, I know women who are heavier and/or less attractive than me who have managed to have relationships. Finally one day I thought to myself, maybe there isn't anything wrong with me. Maybe it's just not meant to be.
And that makes me so sad. Ever since I was old enough to be interested in boys, what I've wanted more than anything in the world is someone I could love who would love me back. A reason to celebrate Valentine's Day. Someone to have and to hold. Someone to explore the wonderful world of sex with before I get too old. (A 34-year-old virgin--you have no idea how ashamed I am of that.) Every night when I go to sleep I try to imagine what it would be like to have someone sleeping next to me. A warm body to curl up against.
Sometimes I would see or hear about couples who were so desperate to have a child that they would go through tremendous ordeals--international adoption, insanely expensive fertility treatments, etc. I didn't understand it before, but I understand it now. I'm not saying I want to have a baby. But having a baby seems to be such a natural and wonderful part of life, and these poor couples wanted so desperately to have that experience that seemed so natural to everyone else. Well, being in a relationship is one of those seemingly natural things that I've missed out on.
It's not like I haven't tried. After I moved out of my God-forsaken rural hometown & relocated closer to the Big City, I tried online dating. This was back in the good old days when the websites were free. Over a 2-year period I met face-to-face with somewhere around 20 men. Of that 2 dozen, I only saw two of them after the first date. I never became romantically involved with either of them, and I'm no longer in contact with them.
Now, if anybody reading (yeah, like there's anybody reading) has ever been on a blind date, you know how nerve-wracking it is. Now imagine having to go through that nerve-wracking stuff with an anxiety disorder. On every single one of these dates I would go to the meeting place and wait and wish that I'd get hit by a bus or an emergency would come up--ANYTHING so that I wouldn't have to go through with it. And this was before I even met the guy! No wonder I could never get a 2nd date--I probably didn't make a very good first impression. Dating is like going on a job interview, only worse. At least on a job interview you have some hope on being judged objectively on your qualifications. With dating, everything is subjective.
And I just don't have what it takes. Whatever it is that men find attractive in women, I just don't have it. I'm not hideous. But I'm certainly not a knockout. There's nothing, absolutely nothing about me that would turn a man's head.
I'm convinced that the only way I'm going to find someone (if I ever find someone) is to hook up with someone I already know from work or something. I can't do the blind dating thing. I just can't. It's just too painful.
Sometimes I think that if a man would just give me half a chance, I could absolutely blow his mind. (Not to mention other particular body parts ;) ) I'm smart, I have an amazing sense of humor, I'm compassionate (believe it or not), and I'm a pretty decent cook. And sex?? Holy moley, I've been holding back for so long that if I found a guy who actually wanted to have sex with me, I'd never want to stop! I'd be too busy making up for lost time! There are so many things I would love to try. I may never be the most erotic thing to look at, but believe me, sex with me would never be boring!
But I figure, I'm 34. If I haven't found a real boyfriend by now, I probably never will. I'm not getting any younger, and I'm not getting any prettier. And I'm a wack job on top of that.
I don't have some neat and tidy ending to this post. But I wanted to get this out. I think I'm going to lie on my bed and cry for a while.
I know that it has been a while since you posted, and I am sorry that no-one else replied to you, but I just wanted to tell you that you are not alone in this position. I am the same and wonder what is wrong with me too.Post a Comment