This weekend hasn’t been traumatic at all and yet, today was a disaster.
This morning I wrote:
I’ve utterly failed at not drinking… however it’s been very reasonable; 2 glasses of wine Friday, a few with the Lady Friend on Saturday. I’m not drinking today. Not even a sip. It’s a new day, and I’ll just start fresh now.
I’m actually very proud of myself. The loneliness, being alone, hasn’t been so terrible. Friday night I stayed in; Roommate was gone, didn’t go to Friends. I stayed home by myself and painted. I did have 2 glasses of wine over the course of the evening but I don’t think that’s too bad at all. The only think I continuously note is I have bedtime anxiety. I can be absolutely exhausted but the idea of turning of all the lights and crawling into bed alone gnaws at the inside of my stomach. This is relatively new in the past few months.
Yesterday I spent the day with Lady Friend. She came over and we hung out doing crafty type stuff. I organized my beads. I have so many kinds. I love to organize and sort. It feels nice and neat, catalogued and controlled. I preceded to piece together the period appropriate style of women’s fashion in 7th/8th century Viking society. I have a huge costuming event in August and I’m changing my pre-Industrial persona from fully Middle Eastern to Viking. I’ll do Middle Eastern (dancer) at night, but during the day I’m going back to my blood roots and switching to a Norse persona. After figuring out the logistics, sewing, altering, sewing… I have a perfectly accurate sack dress, haha. I made some gemstone bead lines as well. They’re the few kinds of decorations and symbols of status women wear.
Afterwards, we went out to dinner which was really nice. I don’t like how she stares at me. It makes me just a little uncomfortable and I feign modesty just to look away. She’s so super sweet though. Our waitress obviously found us super cute which I in turn thought was super cute. Super. Everything was super.
Back to my place for more craftiness. I painted. Finished a wild Caterpillar ala Alice picture. Quick and crazy inspired from watching the movie (Tim Burton shouldn’t be given free reign of movies anymore).
Things are moving rather slow sexually. This makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know what to do when people aren’t constantly trying to jump me. I know she likes me. This isn’t a question. It makes me nervous when I need to fill the silence with actual words that aren’t so easily distracting from me. I’m forced to let her get to know me instead of redirecting her eye to other things. Maybe this is normal? Or healthy? Not jumping into bed? Not constantly using sex as a distraction? I don’t know how to handle this. It’s so much easier to have sex then it is to continuously think of things to say. It’s less invasive, less intrusive. I know what I’m doing in bed. That rarely gets me in trouble. The things that come out of my mouth however, and I’m not talking about my tongue here….
…talking about Talking. That’s where things go wrong. At dinner I did mention that I was on Abilify, that I struggle with depression and some stuff. She was receptive and very understanding. Not concerned with it at all. I think this is the approach I’ll be taking. Bring up bits and pieces one thing at a time. See how she responds and gauge her reactions before I drop something new on her…
One thing I’m rather curious about. She hasn’t mentioned my scars. At all. Every person I’ve ever dated notices, and mentions them almost instantly (within the first few dates). She hasn’t said anything at all. Maybe she’s respecting the fact that this is my business and is allowing me to let her know when I feel ready to? I’m just trying to figure this out. I’m never averse to talking about them. I don’t draw attention to them, but I don’t try to hide them either. They’re really just more modifications at this point. Still. It’s interesting to me.
Back to sex. Guys are so much easier in some respects. I can throw sex at them and they won’t think twice about it. The women I date, it’s not that they’re not interested in sex, they certainly are, but there’s more of an emphasis on interest in me. That’s it I suppose. I still don’t want to let her in. Not ready to be too close. Guys I can stick to surface speak keeping conversation witty and light and when things get a little too sticky for my tastes… well, turning the tables on the evenings events is not incredibly difficult to do. I don’t have to think. I don’t have to be me. I can just feel and lose myself in the moment… if I like them. Sometimes it’s really just a way to get people to shut up and make the time move forward, to do something besides feign interest in the words coming out of their mouths.
After she left I binged again. I was a little hungry, but I just can’t seem to stop at a reasonable amount of food. I ate all my leftovers from dinner, then freaked out that I’d eaten so much so late, but it wasn’t enough to easily get rid of, so I prepared a full binge that was easier to deal with. I don’t know why I do this. I don’t know why I can’t just go to bed, except after she left I had that little bedtime anxiety and I didn’t want to go lie down alone. I’d thought about asking her to stay. We were falling asleep together on the couch as is, but… idk. I’m not there yet. Too close, not too close, too close, not too close. There’s too much content in lesbian relationships. Men are easier for me. Men are just easier. Heh, sorry. I suppose I shouldn’t make that statement, but when it comes to me and dating, they’re easier to maneuver around. I can hold back, but appear to draw them closer. Preserving myself and not pushing them away too fast by appearing to draw them in closer. Heh. With Lady Friend, it’s almost entirely balanced. She’s less easily distracted, just happy to be in my company, not pushing me for more, not forcing my {nonexistent} boundaries. It’s strange. Learning to just, be. To sit, and be, in comfort. Not needing the next moment to be something other than it is. I’m not sure I know how to do this. Time. Give it time I guess.
It’s now Sunday evening: I broke my resolve to not drink. Not a lot, just a couple glasses of wine. Then I coupled it with an all out binge/purge. I’ve been alone all day. It’s been a beautiful day. I’ve been creatively productive, but, alone. I just don’t understand why this is so hard! There’s no reason for it. I’m so incredibly frustrated. Woke up, too low energy to really work out. Did a nice painting, did some grocery shopping, sewed 3 Viking apron dresses, redid my gemstone bead drops… and I can’t shake this tension under my skin that makes me want to, want to, I don’t even know. All I know is that how I feel right now is unsettled and unhappy. After my binge I went to the craft store, just got a couple strands of beads, had a cigarette, calmed down and returned to my crafting projects. Forcing myself to concentrate on something else makes the time fly faster and I can slow the spinning thoughts down.
And to wrap it up. I have a family. It’s father’s day so I actually called mine. He’s pretty proud that I’ve been painting. Amidst the critiques he even said that what I’ve shown him so far is really great. Mixed bag sorta praise, but I’ll take it. I can do better, I have more to learn, but hey, a lot of people never learn to
even draw stick figures (yeah he said that)… and I’m doing a really good job.
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Learning how to draw trees |
Finally, I miss my sister. A lot. I got a drunken text from her earlier… “I’m going to bed. But I’m also a little drunk and I miss you. Lately I have felt like I’m always going to be too short to ride the big kid roller coaster. And I would prefer to feel this way with you here because you know how to handle me. And that makes me miss you.” If you’ll remember my sister is bipolar so she’s all over the place like me too, but different. She stresses a lot about stuff, work, school etc. She’s smart it just takes her a little more effort to process school material, hence stress. She’s back in school and doing a really amazing job getting on track with what she wants to do (work with the deaf community). I’m so proud of her. Of all the things I dislike most about living in NY, it’s that my sister is 500 miles away =( It’s so rough some days. Especially on bad days, for both of us. No one has ever had the ability to reign in my moods and keep me in a calmer place than her and likewise for her, I just KNOW her so I know what helps. It makes me sad that I can’t be there for her when she needs me. I love my sister. I wish I could hang up my life here and go home to her sometimes. Can’t. My life is here now. For now. And I have to get up for work in the morning. G’night.
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