*TW: SH image at the bottom of this post.
Note: I also apologize for the rambling nature of this post – I can’t even believe I am exposing some of these thoughts lately – this post and Touch have some of my deepest held secrets – 30+ years and never “verbalized” some of these things. I guess The Faceless is finally having her day in the sun.
***
What do I want? I’m here. I have the evening to myself – which – I was so very excited about. I turned down social engagements and R is out with friends. I get to be me, whatever and whoever that is, I get to scream, cry, laugh, make art, self-harm, jerk off, or go out. Whatever I fucking want. lol I haven’t been this excited in a really long time.
So, I’m sitting here. What do I want? No really – what do you want, Jess? Like, forget tonight for a sec, forget that you want to self-destruct on the daily, put yourself in harms way, have crazy monkey sex with whomever, make weirdo art high out of your mind – what do you actually want? Do you want to stop? Do you actually want to get better? And by that I mean, why do you want to hurt yourself all the time?
I don’t actively hate myself daily. I just sometimes don’t feel anything or care about anything or anyone deeply enough to want to stick around. I really enjoy certain days, and am distracted enough by friends, or activities, or exercise, or work to genuinely enjoy living I guess. But when I’m by myself – all the feels come creepin’ back out to drag me down…
***
You know, I broke up with R once because I could tell I would gain a bunch of weight dating him. Literally, afraid of gaining weight, that was the reason. lol But when I’m in good shape I feel sexier, nothing wrong with that, except that just means it’s easier to pick up people. I broke up with R right before Christmas break – went back to KC – slept with 2 or 3 people over the break and then back to Texas. A few weeks later I got back together with R and I never told him about my escapade. I actually think I just wanted to have lots of sex and figured he would be down to get back together anyway and if not, oh well.
I haven’t taken care of myself in my relationship with R as much because he never asked me to (unlike my ex) – and I only maintained it when I was single cause it was useful for picking up randos at bars. I care that little about my body, I don’t even do it for me I do it so my body will look good, appetizing, to other people and I rationalize it’s good for me anyway, right? Good for anxiety, overall health, etc.. on the surface I’m encouraged by others, but I already know deep down – the better I look physically – the more interested in sex… with anyone….. I will become. It’s a pattern with me. I’ve yo-yo’d with weight my entire life. And the minute I start to look good, is the minute I start craving the wrong kind of attention… I start to lose control. That’s terrifying to me. Maybe that’s part of the reason I let myself gain as much weight as I did. *shrug* maybe I didn’t want R to have sex with me as much or in that way anymore – maybe it felt violating and didn’t want that from someone I grew close to – maybe the fact he’s so nurturing now it’s actually a turn off lol. Or maybe I craved love and filled that hole with delicious food and drink – maybe it was the pandemic – probably all of that, I don’t know.
But really, I think I just gave up – on feeling good in my own skin, my life, I gave up on deep love and all I wanted was to just be supported and cared for – to sink into a cozy hovel filed with comfort food and become a hermit – some form of love, at least make it look good on the surface, is a nice perk if it’s there. R provided that in spades because he’s incredibly giving. But over time, I stopped going out, only went out because R wanted to, I stopped trying. I hate social outings more now than I did when I was younger. So much effort to play The Friend and I got tired of pretending. What’s the point, none of those people know me anyway, or care about what’s actually going on, or would even understand it, so I’m just there for their benefit, ugh.
All the while I can feel her breaking free. The Deviant is angry and wants to be let out, bad. I thought it was The Host and The Achiever by pushing me to workout or The Dreamer telling me, this reality is dumb, maybe it’s not even real, I don’t need food (I barely eat some days, lost 15+ lbs over the past couple months). But what’s terrifying is that I know, deep down, it’s not for me – it’s so I can look sexier and attract other people easier – it’s a manipulation orchestrated by the Deviant, biding her time. Its disguised as healthy goals or coping mechanisms. The Deviant knows that sex carries power and control and she’s tired of me floating along through life like a bump on a log, isn’t she? She sees me, too afraid to speak, or go out in public, or have sex or do much of anything and she’s kinda pissed.
I looked into the FetLife community again and I’m so very interested in attending some events (but not until I’m about 20lbs lighter). Why?
Because, my most carnal, uncontrollable, desire is that I want someone to sexually destroy the ever loving crap out of me. Repeatedly. Now why is that the case? I have no idea. Maybe early trauma? *Roll eyes* Who knows, it doesn’t matter, it’s how I’m wired and I don’t know that anything can change that. So, maybe I should just own it. Divorce R and become the Deviant I keep locked away. Maybe that will make me happier – free? Cause right now, in this moment, I have no idea who I am or what I want. It’s terrifying, exhilarating, depressing, but most of all frustrating.
***
No, wait, I think that’s what I want. I want to know myself truly, know what I want, and I want to stop feeling like I deserve to be punished (see below), like I need to do that to get the support I need. I want to be able to ask for what I want directly and not be a crying little bitch about it. I want to be the badass I know is there – but is weighed down by all this competing internalized bull shit.
That’s what I want.
I did this after writing this post. I don’t know why. It’s not too bad at all – “cat scratches” and everyone knows you can’t kill yourself this way lol, but I wanted more. I’ve been fantasizing of a long diagonal cut along my forearm for weeks – but I can’t do that, people will ask questions.
That’s why I keep my cuts to one side of my wrist and under my watch so they’re harder to see. Also, I hate that scar on my leg so I split it open – it felt amazing.
I hesitated to share this. If I’m being honest, it probably is attention-seeking, but not from strangers – maybe….from myself?
Shit, am I disconnected from my body??? Is that what this all is? Oh, fuck.