Best 2/3. You know when you are playing Rock, Paper, Scissors against someone for something and you play best two out of three? If you lose the first two, your opponent has already won, and there is no third game. I have had two serious relationships in my past. In both of them, the amazing women I was blessed with changed. We aren’t talking good, productive, life choices change here. This is “what the fuck just happened and why are you doing this” type change. One went from a meat eating, christian, non-drinker to a vegetarian drug addict and got married to someone else basically within a year. The other went from an extremely nice girl, more in love with me than I was with her, (I loved her a lot by the way,) to the kind of chick that doesn’t want you to know her friends. And she started lying…. a lot.
…If you lose the first two, your opponent has already won, and there is no third game. After about two and a half years, both of these women changed into monsters. I don’t blame them for everything. I can’t, I’ve said to both of them that an argument can’t exist with only one person. It’s never specifically one persons fault. I believe there is something about myself, some character trait, that causes women to eventually change directions. I am trying to make this sound as self-critical as possible. There is something in me that changes girls. Some chemical that they react with. I don’t entirely blame myself, because this isn’t chemistry, and every action is a choice of your own, but I will never say that I am blameless. I’ve lost both these women. I have failed to keep them with me. Not only that, but some part of me has changed them into shells of the beautiful people I knew them as. Not to say they are horrible now, they are just not who I fell in love with in the past. Seeing sporadic, unwanted and unexpected change in those closest to you is the hardest thing a person can go through. After these two losses, I feel that I have lost enough times to know better. And I really, really don’t want to do that to another amazing girl.
…If you lose the first two, your opponent has already won, and there is no third game. This girl is really my MO in women, too. As much of a puzzle as she is, I can clearly see that much. She’s exactly what I look for: great taste in music, appreciates literature, and still has remnants of her youthful innocence. That gives me pause more than anything else. No woman will truly be changed by me as effectively as one that is similar to the others. I worry for her well-being. The last thing this earth needs is another made-by-me monster.
I have recently developed a severe case of emetophobia - the fear of vomiting.
I wake up every night and have panic attacks that can last anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours.
I hate myself.
I can't do anything anymore.
I can't ride in a car, I have to be driving. I can't work for more than five hours. I can't sleep. i can't eat without worrying about getting food poisoning. I can't drive in traffic. I can't go to theme parks, or drink soda. I can't laugh, it moves my stomach too much, and makes me worry. I can't enjoy a party. I'm taking more meds than I ever have in my life: Anxiolytics, vitamins, sometimes dramamine. I see the doctor monthly, I have an appointment with a GI Specialist on thursday, just in case any of the nausea is real.
Please someone help me. Please someone relate. Please someone take this away from me. Please God.
I feel alone. Foreign in my own house, my room, my own skin. I can't do this too much longer. It's hard. Impossible.
And I can't write while I'm panicking. I can't hardly think straight. Dear God, why is this happening? How did this happen?
I have received a couple of emails recently that made me think a lot. And I apologize to you for not responding in a timely manner at all. I honestly can only write this when I'm alone, and that doesn't happen as often as it should.
I'm tired of sorting the massively important emails you are sending me out of a sizable lake of emails I really don't need to read or reply to. I will, of course, still read and reply to all the emails you can send me, I just feel extraordinarily guilty about not responding as fast as I should. *Sigh,* so I made an AIM account. I'll keep it online whenever I'm alone, so if you see me online, I want to talk to you.
I'm worried about whether I'll still be who I want to be without being able to proofread, but I can at least try it for the time being. So, if you want to tell me something, you can email me. If you want to talk to me, you can instant message me.
Taking the technological approach to this is goddamn awful and I'm sorry. I just need to talk to you guys, and I can't find another way of doing it.
Email, as always: BrAveryK@Gmail.com AIM: JestemHolden
I want nothing more than to be who I was before, but in my current circumstances.
It seems with the advent of Amanda leaving, and a new, more beautiful girl who seems to put up with me, I have lost the urge to better myself. Without the constant insecurities, I don't feel like I need to be someone better than who I am. That urge is something I have always wanted to keep around. The thought of losing it is daunting, saddening. Hopeless, in a way, if I can want something that bad and still lose it.
But now, I am trying to make more time alone. More time to think. With a roommate, a girl, and friends who basically live here, it's hard to get time alone from all the people in my life. Harder still to explain to people why you need it. I need to find things in my life than inspire me to be exactly who I was. In a stupid, contradictory way, I was the happiest I had ever been at the lowest points of my life. (I use the word 'happy' tenderly here.)
But I need more than that. If you connect at all to the way my posts make you feel, if you can hear most of the words here read in your voice, email me. Tell me that I've done something more than pointless.
I never thought I would be the one running at the cliff through the rye. I never thought I would slip away from myself, and become so bland, so improper in my own skin. I hate it.
I am disgusting. I am a creature of bad habit. I have nothing to live for, and I have entwined my life with nothing important enough to die for. I slip and fall without noticing because I'm so used to it. I treat no one with respect, and yet expect it from everyone else. I have never done anything right. I am not doing anything right. I will never do anything right. My life is waste. I am trash, garbage, and sewage. I will never be positive about it. I will never think anything I do is worth more than the time I wasted and the people I distracted.
This is my life. There are many like it, but this one is mine. Without my life, I am worthless. Without me, my life is nonexistent.
there is nothing worth doing anything for. Science AND religion are wrong.