15/11/2010

Things I’m  learning about myself from this  ‘thing’ with BB:

  • I think about sex too much.
  • But I’m congenitally incapable of doing casual sex very well.
  • Because I’m too emotional a person. I need to feel I belong with a man. I need to be acknowledged on an emotional level. I also care too much. I wake up in the morning and wonder if he had a good night. I sit at home having lunch and wonder if he’s having lunch with his friends, alone? What is he having? Is he enjoying it? I listen to travel updates and ask myself whether he’s stuck in traffic somewhere bored out of his brain. When he gets home, is he happy to see his baby? Does he spend his weekends making funny faces and making him laugh?
  • Also because my PCOS drives me mad. Immediately after my period, unless I really trust someone  it can be quite an effort for me to have sex. Too many true and false PMS-esque symptoms during that time. And I just can’t sit someone down – someone who is essentially still not close to me and start explaining all my reproductive woes. I’d rather pass the sex itself at that time. So I worry a lot instead, mostly about him, not me. Mostly about how I seem not to be in the mood.
  • And what does that say about me? I’m pathetic. End of story. But of course I want  a very healthy relationship.  That I’m sure of. I may suffer from a terrible and great deal of low self-esteem and other great crazy but that’s one thing I’m sure of. That’s why I said no to Fish. I’m not at my best emotionally and if I said yes I would lose him – something I don’t want to do because I want him in my life. If he still wants me when I’m ‘healed’ then I think I will say yes. At the moment it’s ok for any other woman to have him, although there isn’t any yet.
  • I like and prefer intelligent men. I mean,  BB isn’t dim, but God knows we don’t have any mentally stimulating conversations. Of course I’m aware life is about compromise so I can compromise if a man brought something else to the table, like kindness, unconditional love, streetwiseness and money, yes money – don’t get me wrong but I’m a woman, I don’t just lay with anyone, there are consequences to think of, it’s nature. And I won’t be PC about it, in fact all women shouldn’t be PC about it. All women who pretend to be PC about money in regards to relationships want to have the good life to themselves and leave you out to dry. True story. So where was I? Yes, intelligence. An intelligent man is powerful to me. A powerful man turns me on. I have respect for a powerful man and in order for me to love a man I have to respect him. Money = Power too, that’s why I can compromise. A powerful man also makes me feel protected and taken care of. I feel safe in the company of a powerful man. I feel my future children will be safe with a powerful father. A powerful man doesn’t worry about his position in society so he doesn’t have time to have ‘issues’, instead he has the time to love me.
  • I need to be more kind to myself.
  • Unmasking myself and allowing myself to be vulnerable is actually good for me. Allowing people to see the real me and being honest about my situation is good for my personal growth. BB is the only person in a long time who has actually seen how bad my financial situation is. Most of the times I feel ashamed by what is essentially a situation that is not my fault, but what can I do? He still insists on seeing me, so that’s what he’ll see.
  • I am beautiful – I know this but I needed a reminder after a very long time. From the first day that he met me, BB told me that I was beautiful every single time we met. Every single time. He’s never stopped. No faffing around with words, he just says these exact words every single time: You are beautiful.
  • I like kissing men’s noses.

03/11/2010

It’s 3:40 pm, I turn over in my duvet-heavy bed and sluggishly glance towards the door of my room. BB is standing there. Am I dreaming? I ask myself and try to sit up. No I’m not. Oh dear God. Panic. That is BB standing at the door.

Then it hits me. What???? No, no, no, no!  This man did not just ambush me in my place? I did not remember any talk of  meeting him today. He’s appeared unannounced, to find me at my most undignified. A stinking room, dirty bowl and spoon with dried weetabix bits on them,  on the bed beside my head, a packet of sainsbury’s basics sultanas next to it,  bits of used tissue and dirty clothes all over the floor and my menses stained knickers hanging at the corner of my bed. I’m ashamed. I want to die. Oh the humiliation! It’s unbearable. I want to get up but I’m incapacitated with self loathing.

“Hello, I wasn’t expecting you, how did you get in?”

“The woman opened the  door for me”

“Oh, eerrm…I was reading then I fell asleep”

“I can see that, is it warm in there? I’ll join you”

No, please no. You wouldn’t like the smell in here. At this point I’m thinking…hide the dirty stuff on display…hide that bit of the second duvet that’s worn out…do something…save yourself from this shame. But I can’t. He’s already removed his clothes and has jumped next to me. Feelings of rage start to creep up within me. He has no right! He can’t just turn up. He has no right to turn up like this and make me feel less of a human being due to the conditions I live in. In times like these I want to be alone. I don’t want anyone to see the crazy state I’m in. When I’m alone, I don’t have to pretend. I can wallow in my depression and continue fighting a loosing battle with my insomnia whilst indulging and entertaining my glorious disturbed sleep patterns. Then he comes in like this. This is not a part of me I want him to see. Then I calm down – it’s not my fault after all, I didn’t ask him to turn up impromptu.

Up until now he had only been to my place once – after I had done a massive clear out and cleaned the place up and now. And of course after apologising profusely for the state of it – most of which wasn’t my poor self’s fault – the stained and discoloured roof for starters. Ugh. On that occasion it went well though. He didn’t seem to mind and even helped me take out some rubbish that The Witch thought convenient to tell me off about in front of him. But this was different.

One hour after he got naked, I put my hand over his torso  and a few minutes later I hear:

“We should stop doing this”

“What?”

“Having sex”

Oh dear me. This is it.

“I don’t spend quality time with you”

So why the hell did you fucking come over today? How about you should have told me this via earlier and not turned up. Or how about you should have turned up and NOT got naked, but just you know…tell me this and then go?

I remain silent. I play with his hair a little, he tells me to stop then gets up to dress. He notices the sultanas and makes a comment about how good sultanas are. All I can think of is that they are just sainsbury’s basics. Cheap. I’m a total and massive contrast to his comfortable middle class existence. No wonder he wants out? He also mentions something about how warm my bed is. Do I like to keep warm he asks? I pull a duvet over me as he says:

“We should stop because it’s not fair to you. I don’t make enough time for you”

He leans over to kiss me. Tears start forming. God please no, I can’t start crying now. Not for this man. Please.

“But you are funny, you don’t care”

I do. I fucking care. I fucking care so much. I fucking care so much that I’ve had to suppress my tears. He said I didn’t care because two weeks ago, while apologising for yet another flying visit I told him it doesn’t matter when he sees me. It was his life I said and I will not force him to see him. It’s not like I was married to him or was his girlfriend, I continued, matter of factly. I didn’t mean that. I was hurting and angry…and needy so I just said this to appear ‘cool with it’. He remembered it.

“It’s not that I don’t care”, I smiled faintly and swallowed a huge lump in my throat. He stood up to put on his jumper and said that it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t see me enough but would make sure to find sometime for us to do something ‘more’. So what is it? Is that it or do I have to wait and see if he has found the time to do ‘more’ things together?

He blew me a kiss and left. I lay in bed  thinking of that scene in Bille August’s The House of the Spirits, where Esteban visits a prostitute and asks her  to be tender with him and pretend to care for him, just for that day. Substitute  the prostitute with BB.

I wish I’d never met him.

**An hour letter I check my emails and see one from him, sent at 2:32 pm, without a body, titled ‘Hello are yyou home at 3.30pm?’ I wasn’t online so I couldn’t reply, but why would he just turn up? If you don’t get a reply you wait for one!

23/07/2010

From this post: Yes, I think my dad is depressed.  I’ve been depressed too so it’s clear for me to see. My mum thinks this too but she has this absurd way of walking around  issues without really dealing with them. My mother has also gone through periods of extreme stress but being busy and being responsible for keeping the family together coupled with a very resilient character has made her stay on top of things.

When I was 18 and everything was starting to fall apart,  my mother took out her stress and frustrations on me. Being the eldest child, she would tell me off about anything that happened at home that she did not like. She would even refer to my brother’s mistakes as mine. If my brother did something she would start with ‘you children always do this…e.t.c”. Being a teenager and going through that roller coaster phase that every teenager goes through I always made sure to let her know that I was not happy with that. I would argue with her, we would talk about things as a result of these arguments and I would get it out of my chest and then we would make up, but of course she never stopped. She  minimised it, but she didn’t stop. I understood somehow that her treating me differently from my brother was because  she was looking to me as the eldest of the two to set an example which is fair enough. However, it was very tiring  to have this kind of responsibility weighed upon me when it was that it could be shared, and sometimes none of it was my fault.

So she called me selfish. All the time. I was selfish because I told her her to be  specific about the mistakes I made and the mistakes my brother made. I was selfish for pointing out that responsibility was not mine alone. I became very frustrated that I didn’t communicate exactly what I felt because I have a introvert-extrovert kind of personality.  Sometimes I got really angry and complained and shouted and then cried. Sometimes I just stared at her blankly as she ranted away because I couldn’t take it anymore. I could feel my spirit dying away very slowly. She called this selfish.

So, I went around doubting myself. I’m I being selfish now? Is this right. What should I do here? Would my mother think this is selfish? I went around not thinking about myself and my needs because I was scared of being selfish.

Then I grew up. No longer a teenager and starting to understand the serious issues in life I decided to back away from unnecessary arguments with my mum. Our relationship changed to the point that I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want any arguments, so I usually told her calmly if I didn’t agree with her and just generally avoided unpleasant situations. If she was having a random rant I would just let her let it all out and then just nod or offer my very brief opinion and that would be the end of that. Part of me wanted a good relationship with her while the other part of me just wanted some peace and calm. I was tired and weary of arguments and resentment. I changed. I grew up. This has been good for me because we can now communicate as adults without any one of us going away huffing and puffing with resentment, disappointment or even anger. This change in attitude  also helped me learn that I can think about my needs and not be selfish. In fact these days I don’t listen to my mum when she starts with that selfish tirade, which thankfully she hasn’t done in about two years. I know better now and I think she finally realised that I saw through her manipulation because let’s be honest she was manipulating me by calling me selfish.

My dad is different. My dad is difficult. He’s an extreme introvert. I mean really introverted. He’s not flexible too. He has this type of personality where it’s very easy for him to develop a low self-esteem. With him, when things are going well, money flowing in, kids getting good grades, affluence…influence..you know the lot, he’s happy. When things are difficult he gets stuck in this negative and self deprecating rut that is almost impossible to get him out of.  Sadly, life isn’t that one-dimensional. I remember once last year he refused to talk to my brother because he was not getting good grades. My relationship with him hasn’t been bad at all, although being the way he is and with all the problems around us, most of the times he hasn’t made the effort to communicate with me. And when someone doesn’t communicate with you and you have so many issues to deal with it gets really difficult to  get talking properly about things. It’s also extremely hard when this person is very negative.

I don’t want to be around negative people. I don’t want to deal with negativity.  Is that so bad?

When I was away at uni my dad never really called me or sent me emails a lot, just the odd one. I used to send him  e-cards on occasions like his birthday or father’s day when I couldn’t afford the postal ones but he didn’t respond  most of the times. Our communication was mostly along the lines of:

‘Hi dad, are you alright, how’s everything bla bla bla. My uni work is this and that bla bla bla…’ and he would reply with the same kind of thing , ‘I’m fine…bla bla bla. This is what is happening at home bla bla bla…’

It was just like that. It worked most of the times because I understood that my dad isn’t that big on words and opening up, so I left it like that because I knew my dad loved me and I love him very much. I was aware it was due to my dad’s depression and the stressful situation were in so I just worked at making myself feel better first and making sure my family was OK.  Things got bad and they are now worse after he quit his  job. When I talk to my dad I feel as if I’m being judged for something. He used to call me the last few days when I was at uni and it always felt like I was under watch. We didn’t communicate. He was just frustrated.

‘What are you doing? Where are young going? I called and you were not at home, where were you? How are your studies?’

That is not a phone conversation. I hated that, so all I did was just answer his questions, offer brief explanations and that was that. My parents in general haven’t been the let’s-be-open-and-talk-about-everything kind of people. I don’t know, I guess it could it could be because of my parents need to protect us and in a way treat us as precious little children or it could just be tradition, but that’s the way it is and I can’t change that now.

Still, my mum is very hands on. She calls us, emails, talks to us. She is generally the one who’ll tell me to get out there and live life. She makes an effort to make everyone happy. Now my dad has started saying that we are excluding him in stuff and my mum is blaming me. He says that we are talking to each other and doing things together and leaving him out. I don’t understand this. It’s his doing. He doesn’t want to do things, he is always worried about how much money we spend. He’s constantly stressing over things and when my mother tries to make him do things to make him feel positive, he refuses to do them. He sometimes even refuses to go for walks or treat himself to something that will make him feel better. He just wants to stay at home and be depressed. I don’t want to live like that. I want to be happy. I want to meet people. So I make an effort not to be in the company of my dad because he is so negative and I don’t want his kind of mindset. It’s not that I don’t like him. I love my father but I don’t want to live like him. Is it so wrong that I don’t want this kind of life? Does loving your parents mean putting up with a negative attitude? I’m also a grown up now and I’m a woman, surely my relationship with my father is going to be different from my mother. At this point in my life, I’m going to be close to my mother than my father but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him or care for him. So  why is my mum blaming me?

She went to work yesterday and called me for about half an hour to tell me off. She says I should make an effort even if my dad does not make any effort at least I’ll have done my part. But why is this? It’s not fair. He’s the one who isn’t making any effort, so why shouldn’t he be told to make an effort? I’ve been extremely patient with the situation at home. I’ve respected him. I’ve never shouted at him and or been rude to him when things were getting extremely hard and when he was not being very nice to my mum. I’ve never demanded anything of him, so why I’m I being told that it’s my fault? It’s not my fault that he’s depressed. It’s not my fault that he’s not working towards feeling good and being happy. I’m angry at my mum for making me feel guilty. Deep down I know it’s my dad making my mum feel guilty. It’s his low self-esteem and depression that is making him think  he’s being neglected. I just feel as if every time I try to stay on top of things, my dad puts me down again.

Tell me what’s wrong with wanting to run away from all this negativity?

Whenever my mum starts going on about this, I always think of that moment when I found a note from my dad to my mum in the kitchen table with my mum’s bank statement.

‘We don’t have money. She’ll never finish university’

Or that day when my mum sent me a message asking me to come up with a surprise present to give to my dad after graduation. For his efforts. I’m sorry but as much as I’m supposed to thank my parents for financing my education but I’m the one who is graduating. And my mum is the one who has struggled a lot more than my dad. A lot more.  If I was goin to buy a present it would be for her.  But, I didn’t say anything. Didn’t complain, just focused on completing my  degree, and now I’m the one who isn’t making an effort.

02/06/2010

I was thinking about the weekend chat I had with Fish. It was around 6 pm and I was in the kitchen cooking when he came online and asked to have a video conversation with me. I said yes and turned the webcam on. We started chatting, but I couldn’t stop thinking… 

 ‘Do I look alright? Is my hair messy? I’m wearing my hair in a different style from the one he told me he loved, is that OK?  Do I look less beautiful because of that? What about my face? Does he think I look good?

Just look at that. Am I that insecure? 

As we kept talking I thought,  ‘what the hell, I should stop worrying about how I look. He should like me in whatever hairstyle I’m in or whatever time of day it is.’  So I forgot about it until today. You know, I’m trying. I am really trying to be a confident person. It’s not easy but I’ve got better in the past few months, it’s just that sometimes these things creep up on me and take over me and sometimes it feels like I can’t do anything about it. Sometimes it’s really bad all I want to do is curl up at a corner in my room and stay there. Sometimes it feels like everyone in the world has it all except me. I feel as if nothing beautiful will ever happen to me and it scares me.

18/03/2010

I know I have a problem with ‘feeling left out’. The feeling that I’m not good enough or that a man someone will find other women people better than me. I think it’s  a result of my tragic relationship with King. It’s not a trust issue because I do trust people nor is it a jealous issue. It’s just something. It could be a self-esteem issue. I just don’t know. All I know is that whenever I have ‘episodes’ I just want to cry and run away somewhere. I guess admitting I have a problem is a good start. I hope can find a way of changing this complex,because I really would not like it to affect any relationship I have.