Moving On

So it’s been nearly 3 weeks since the incident with Jacob. Damn me for a fool, but I still think about him. Sometimes I rehash some of the things that happened, sometimes I think about the sex, but mostly I have fantasies about him trying to talk to me again. These go in various directions. In one version he comes up to me and I just stare at him and then turn away. In another I look at him and say “No. Just no.” In another I say “You are not allowed to speak to me.” In another one he tells me he has finally gotten properly medicated and wants another chance. God I’m sick! It goes on and on. Stupid, I know, but these little scenes just kind of pop up in my brain without warning.

The other night I was talking to my friend L and I said something like, “Yeah, when I was talking to ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named'”…and she says, “No! I have the perfect name for him – Voldemort!” I nearly lost my shit, because that is so perfect. Even before the toxic event that ended it all, I had started thinking of him as being like a poisonous snake. Sly and seductive, and one of the few creatures on Earth who can take down a strong and noble beast such as myself. This will sound silly, but the analogy came from astrology: I’m a Leo in Western astrology, and a Tiger in Chinese. Weird, right? Only the Scorpion can hurt the Lion, and only the Snake can hurt the Tiger. My first boyfriend Brian – Jacob I – was a Scorpio, lol! Of course Jacob is also a Leo so it kind of falls apart there, but that’s where the idea came from. So yep, Jacob is now Lord Voldemort, hahaha!

I’m doing mostly ok. I no longer have fits of uncontrollable sobbing, anyway. I don’t really want anything to do with men right now, which is a Good Thing. I’m not even really horny anymore, which is the first time in a year that that’s happened. I had actually been wanting to get to that place for a while now, and this got me there in a flash. So thanks for that, Jacob! I mean, if some gorgeous creature wants to try and catch me I’m not going to stop him, but I’m way past the point of wanting to put forth any effort. And so of course now my friend C is suddenly boy crazy and wants to go out all the time. Dammit, woman, why couldn’t you have been this way 6 months ago? She’s going through a lot of shit right now, and so I humor her by going out on the prowl with her, but my heart is definitely not in it.

I’ve noticed, though, that anxiety is still a constant – I often catch myself not really breathing. A therapist I had when I lived in Sac was the first to notice that I did this. I think I stopped doing it for a long time, but now this habit is back with a vengeance. It kind of freaks me out, because in my mind I can feel perfectly fine and calm, but my body is telling a different story. And I seem to have a lot less control over it than you might think.

A lot of it has to do with the fact that I am definitely not happy with my life right now, and am itching to make changes. I feel like I’m stuck in this tiny little box that’s getting smaller by the day, and I’m constantly squirming around in that box, but I can’t break free. The main thing is my career, or rather lack of one. I cannot, CANNOT, continue living paycheck to paycheck. I also want to meet some new people. I love L and C to death, but they’re really rather narrow in the things they like to do. This is one reason I was so excited about the whole Jacob thing – he was one of the very few people I’ve ever met who likes to do all the stuff that I like to do. The only ideas I can come up with to meet people are to take a class, do volunteer work, or join some kind of club. The thing is, though, that looking for jobs and meeting people and doing “activities” takes up time. While it’s true that I only work 4-5 days a week, working on my class actually takes up most of the rest of those hours. A reduced partying schedule should help with this dilemma, but I am still weak when it comes to saying no to my girls when they want to go out. I’m getting better at it, but I have a long way to go.

I started seeing my therapist again right after The Incident. I saw her again this past Monday. I was going to tell her that I couldn’t do it anymore – I really can’t afford it now that I don’t have insurance – but she hit on an idea that I think needs exploring: I am addicted – truly addicted – to the type of men who end up hurting me. Strangely enough, this was an idea that I had had myself earlier in the summer. Last week I made a list of all the guys I’d been really into over the years, and it basically read: weirdo, druggie, bad boy, musician, artist, psycho, player. Several of them were all of the above. Well I am just doing a fantastic job, aren’t I? Whereas I was clueless as to what to do about this, Dr. A just recently took a class on some kind of Addictive Behavior Protocol, or something like that.  The basic idea is that I’ve learned to associate hooking up with these “flashy” types with positive feelings, and so we have to break that association. The only thing is, I don’t know if I want to break it. That sounds nuts, but the sense of exhilaration and power I get from these guys, however briefly, is the only real joy and happiness that I have in my life. I suppose that the idea is to find other ways to get that feeling, but I just don’t see how anything – anything – could ever measure up. And doesn’t everyone want to have butterflies when they meet someone special? It made sense when she explained it the first time, but I think I need it explained again, lol!

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