My Demon


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This sums me up.

I have an insanely self-destructive nature. Always have had, for as long as I can remember.

I self-sabotage, self-harm, repeat mistakes whilst fully aware that I am doing so. I drive myself, (and people who care about me), crazy.

I have one massively self-destructive habit in particular that I simply cannot seem to shake off.

My Dark Demon.

I am aware of it; actually, it takes up far too much space in my head every waking, (and frequently dreaming), moment.

I know I need to stop it. I need to confront it and deal with it.

It is detrimental to my health and well-being, emotionally, psychologically and physically.

I have tried to fix this on my own with zero success but I am loath to seek any help from outside.

Why? I do not know.

I tend to think I am a strong person with most aspects of life. I have overcome more than my fair share of adversity and survived.

I generally have this attitude to life:

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But this one thing lingers.

Sits on my shoulders and weighs me down.

I feel unable to find that power within myself. It feels impossible. Hopeless.

I know this week is not the week I will conquer this demon, but I truly hope I’ll get there… sooner rather than later.

💋

Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com
All rights reserved.

Writing this was meant to help me focus and work this out. Seems I have failed at that too!

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Words That Changed My Life…


Sometimes we can trace back how our lives have turned out to the smallest of things, like words that were spoken to you or by you.

*

The OH was a shy guy when I met him, chatty once he was comfortable with you, but never the type to make the first move, (more about that later!). We made friends in second year of college.  I always tried to copy his homework because he was better at Chemistry than I was. I laughed at his jokes and stories in class and I liked him, but never really saw him as anything more than a mate.

I was walking home from the pub one night, a bit brokenhearted that my latest crush wasn’t showing me much reciprocal interest, and there he was on the bridge. We stopped to chat and, out of the blue, (and very unlike the shy guy I had come to know), he offered to walk me home… in the direction he had just come from, even though his house was just around the corner.

That moment of bravery on his part, when he uttered the words, “Can I walk you home?” was the start of something bigger than either of us could ever have imagined. I do believe, in that moment, everything I felt about him changed, just like that.

 *

Fast forward a month or so, during which time the OH and I spent a lot more time together. I loved being with him, but we were still just buddies, even though I knew I wanted more. I was always around him, finding excuses to hang out. I even fell asleep on his sofa with him one night and when I woke in the morning I angled my face up so our lips were almost meeting and waited for him to wake up and accidentally kiss me. It didn’t work… he woke up and nearly fell off the sofa with shock!

[Sidenote: it sounds as if he wasn’t interested which is not true. Years later I asked about how we got together and he told me he had seen me on the very first day of college, a year prior to us ever talking, and he remembered what I was wearing and where I sat in class. He just never thought, (his words), he had a shot with me.]

As the weeks went on, and he remained as gentlemanly as ever, I became more and more frustrated, but with the cocky confidence of youth on my side, I was not going to admit defeat. I wanted this guy and I intended to get him.

After a half-term break we all returned to college and on the Sunday night before class hit the nightclub. We danced as a large group, no one-on-one dancing at all, we drank and had a laugh. Once the ‘slow set’ came on my friend Linda pushed the two of us out onto the dance floor, (as we had planned!), and we did the slow dance shuffle thing awkwardly. I kept my face very available for any kisses he might have wanted to plant but sadly the set ended and my lips remained untouched.

Linda took me aside, “WTF?!” and I decided it was time for me to ‘man up’ and take charge of this situation.

Slow set number two began and I gave him the “Are you dancin?” eyebrow raise and nod towards the floor and he got up.

We danced for all of a minute, my heart beating out of my chest with nerves, when I looked up at him and said the line, “If I do something, will we still be friends tomorrow?” He smiled down at me, (I think he knew what was about to happen), and said “Of course!” I leaned up and planted a very chaste kiss on his lips and as I pulled away he wrapped his arms around me and drew me in for a very deep kiss. We kissed all night and he walked me home.

 *

In Ireland, certainly back in 1991, people didn’t ‘date’. We ‘went out’ with people, we would “go” with someone. If you liked someone you were exclusive from day one until you broke up. As we stood at my door, arms around each other, I said, “So…” and waited to see what would happen.

“So…” he replied smiling, I repeated, “So…” and then he said the next couple of words that changed my life.

“So, do ya wanna go with me or what?”

Romantic huh? Of course, I said yes!

*

Fast forward seven years. We lived together practically from day one, he bought me a toothbrush and a hairbrush for his flat and I basically moved in one piece of clothes at a time.

One day we both had to get formally dressed to get headshots done for some CVs we were sending out to find work. We were lying on our double bed after we got home, me wearing my little business skirt, nylons, a bra and his necktie, (there’s an image!), and him in his open collared shirt trousers.

My parents had both died and I had a bit of inheritance. I was telling him about a chat I’d had with my older brother at the weekend about spending it and that life is short, see the world etc. etc.

We started fantasising about places we would like to holiday in, safari in Africa, the Caribbean, the Seychelles, The Maldives and I said, “Jesus, they are like… not just holidays! Those are serious honeymoon type places,” and he looked down at me and said, “Well let’s do that,” to which I replied something along the lines of “Yeah right, feck off!”

He looked at me and said it… “So, you wanna marry me or what?”, (the romantic devil).

He did have to ask me a few more times before I believed he was deadly serious. I said yes and then proceeded to get the shakes, trembling uncontrollably. So, he took my hand, brought me downstairs, made me beans on toast and fed me until I stopped shaking. (Even back then the guy knew how to give aftercare!)

 *

I look back at my life, and at how I got here, and the four most important lines that were ever said to me or that I ever said are imprinted on my memory:

“Can I walk you home?”

“If I do something will we still be friends tomorrow?”

“Wanna go with me or what?”

“Wanna marry me or what?”

 *

Such small little sentences that made such a difference. 53f5b35c2fa1d41015025c2a0c19fb21

I hold them in my heart always.

Ciao!

💋

Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

Manners Maketh the Man


Boyfriends… I’ve had few, (to misquote ole Blue Eyes himself).

Referring to the, always accurate, Urban Dictionary definition below, I think perhaps I was seriously duped in my youth.

FullSizeRenderLet’s see…

There was the charmer who, in full knowledge that I could not swim, held me out over the edge of a pier by my ankles. Yeah that was a fun date! Did I mention the fact that he had epilepsy and could have had a seizure at any moment? Yeah what a prince…

Next up, meet the Casanova who invited me over to his place to spend the day while his parents were out of town. I arrived to discover a gang of his mates in the TV room, watching porn, inviting me to sit and watch along with them. Um… interesting offer guys but I think I’ll pass on this one. I left.

Every couple argues, that’s fine, but when a man a foot taller than you punches the wall next to you so hard, his watch flies off his wrist… Is it just me, or is that not really gentlemanly behaviour?

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I abandoned the notion of BFs in college, choosing the much more laid back, hook-up approach.

No commitment, no strings, no expectations. If we hook up more than once, it doesn’t mean we are ‘a thing’, type of style.

It worked, it was fun.

Until one night…

Walking home alone from the pub, I met a new friend walking towards me. He was headed home too and lived at the opposite end of town to where I was staying. We stopped and chatted for a minute, and then he tilted his head and shyly asked if he could walk me home. I don’t do speechless very often people, but this simple act of chivalry and old-fashioned sweetness left me stumped. I replied, pointing out the fact that he was so close to his home and that he would be walking quite an extra distance for no reason. He smiled and said that he would enjoy it.

I do believe, even though I didn’t know it at the time, I fell in love at that moment.

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He walked me home, we talked for a while at my door. He made no moves. When we finished talking he simply turned, waved and left. I went to bed thinking of him and how… nice he was. And I don’t mean nice in an insipid way. I mean nice as in polite, lovely, funny, kind.

We became closer friends. We laughed a lot.

Over a midterm break, I missed him so much that I realised that I didn’t want to be just his friend. It hit me, a month or so after he first walked me home, that I was crazy about him.

When college resumed, we got it together… (that is a story for another day…)

It was the happiest, most wonderful relationship I had ever had in my life. We couldn’t bear to apart. We craved each other’s company. We were best friends who fancied the pants off each other, and we were crazily in love.

After all my shitty Bad Boy BFs, after my meaningless flings, that one act of gallantry, courtesy and manners was such a refreshing change that it made me focus my sights on a Good Guy.

That Good Guy became the OH and he is still a gentleman.

Except when he is pissing me off…

Ciao!

💋

ps... he does this too!

ps… he does this too!

Copy right, 2015, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

Looking back…


Today a new follower commented on an old post of mine.    (Welcome new follower!)

The comment made me scratch my head in puzzlement. I could not even remember the post, so I had to search back through my blog to find it.

I was actually shocked to read the words I had written. I was clearly in a very bad place when I wrote them. I was hating myself, feeling like a failure and I spoke about myself with contempt.

The sadness and desperation that leapt from the screen felt so incongruent with the way I feel about myself today.

Having been spoiled to pieces by the OH for my birthday yesterday, and the fact that I am actually liking what I see in the mirror these days, I can honestly say that I am in a much better place now.

For a short while, I actually considered going back and deleting the post, as it felt that it doesn’t reflect me as I am today.

I was conflicted. It is not how I feel right now, but it was true when I wrote it.

A comment the OH made over breakfast very much reflected my feelings about some of my older blog pieces…

I have two girlfriends that he knows that I confide in.

One I spoke to a lot at a time when the OH and myself were having a very difficult time. I was deeply unhappy and leaving felt like a real option. She listened to me a lot during that period of time and I will always be grateful for her counsel. The OH is convinced, based on what I told her, that she hates him!

My other friend has gotten to know me more recently and has heard me talk about the OH in a different way entirely, as we have managed to resolves several of our differences since the dark days earlier this year. The OH has even ‘chatted’ to her through me on Skype, as I tell her things he says in response to something she has said. She genuinely likes him, finds him funny, (he is), and thinks, quite correctly, that I am lucky to have him.

So, this morning, after me telling him about my new follower and my delve back into the archives of my blog, he says to me, “You know, if those two ever met each other they would describe two totally different men? One knows one side of me and the other knows a different side.”

I thought about this and I had to agree.

Readers, I do hope you realise that whatever you read here is simply a snapshot of me, and my life, at the given point in time that I am writing.

The KittyKat typing these words today is a very different woman to the one who wrote such a sad and sorry post earlier this year, and for that matter, the KittyKat you might read tomorrow or next week could well be a completely new version of me.

We all change over time.

Me? I change from one day to another.

One day I’m crazy-happy and energised and another day you will find me despondent, tired and irritable. As I have said before, I don’t do grey!

Relationships change too.

The OH and I are in a good place now, but there is no guarantee it will remain that way.

What we have is strong but it is very delicate at the same time.

Our strength comes from a very deep sense of friendship and respect for each other, and as of tomorrow, 23 years of shared history.

Our fragility is that we are very, very different people from the ones we were all those years ago. We grew up together, but some of that was growing apart.

We are very different types of people too.

He is meticulous, slow, focused.

I am a bundle of chaotic energy, creative, sloppy and have way too many projects on the go at any one time.

I am impatient.

He takes forever to get ready, his motto is “five more minutes…”

I am adventurous, rebellious and very open minded, (youngest child syndrome).

He is reserved, conservative and follows the rules, (oldest child syndrome).

However we share a very dark, filthy and disturbed sense of humour, and we have learned to adjust our different personalities to tolerate, if not always approve of, each other’s quirks.

He once said I only ever write negative things about him here.

That may have a nugget of truth, because, when we were in trouble, I vented and released my misery through the cathartic process of writing. I was not in a place to wax lyrical about the man who had hurt and betrayed me, (sorry babe! But it is true, and you know it!).

However, that man has made efforts to change and to understand the way his behaviour damaged us.

That is partnership.

Dealing with the shit that happens, doing what it takes to make things right again, and finally, and this is the hard part, forgiving each other for wrongdoings.

So, to my new follower… that post you read this morning was a 100% accurate portrayal of who I was and where my life was at that point.

If you stick around, you will no doubt see the other sides of me and my life.

Everything I write here is 100% truth, raw and honest. Even if the OH might not like it, or if I offend anyone, (never intentionally), or if I regret it later. Always truth.

I hope you enjoy the ride!

Ciao!

💋

*

Copyright, 2014,  k1kat.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

 

Can You Keep A Secret?


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Recently, I read letter to an agony aunt in a newspaper. I never usually read those things, but this one caught my eye.

It was a letter from someone who was about to get married and they had kept something from their partner during the course of the relationship. It was something in this person’s own past and was of no relevance to the current relationship. The person writing the letter had the idea that there should be no secrets whatsoever between husband and wife and was conflicted as to whether to share their secret or not.

It got me thinking…

If there is something in my past, that belongs to me, and is not going to impact on my current relationship, am I really obliged to tell my partner?

I think not.

Whatever relationships I had before my partner are mine. Unless one of them is likely to have an impact on my future with this person, I feel no duty to tell them everything about it.

Is it important to swap the number of people you have been with before?

Nope. As long as you are with me now, that’s all that matters. It is none of my business if you have been with one woman or one hundred women.

My only concern would be sexual health… now THAT is something we need to be upfront about.

What if I have cheated on someone in my past? Should I tell him that?

If it was a one-off occurence and not my usual pattern in relationships, would he benfit from knowing about that? Would it not make him wary and suspicious that I would cheat again? Is a person not allowed a clean slate?

What if I was the ‘other woman’ in the past? Does my new partner need to know I was involved with a married man?

What if I had done a job I was not exactly proud of… exotic dancer maybe? I guess there is a chance someone from my past would recognize me, which makes that a dilemma.

Then I thought, what if I had an abortion as a teenager? Should I disclose that?

I still think that is my own personal history, and unless I feel the need to share that, it is not the business of anyone else, even my partner.

What if meet a man and fall in love, but do not disclose that I am, in fact, bisexual?

Does that matter? As far as I am concerned I am with THIS man. Being bisexual does not mean I am any more likely to be unfaithful than if I were straight.

So… do I have any obligation to tell him?

Again I think not. (Although I will say I cannot think of any reason not to tell him, unless I fear he will be appalled, in which case I wouldn’t want to be with him anyway.)

I think, if my secret has a potential to cause reverberations in my present relationship, then I should disclose it. If it doesn’t, then I am under no obligation to tell.

Then I thought about the ‘secrets’ we keep regarding our present day lives.

you CAN tell does not mean you HAVE to tell

you CAN tell does not mean you HAVE to tell

Does my partner need to know everything about me? What I am thinking? What I have been doing? Where I have been? Who I see?

This is maybe more difficult I think.

The obvious point is, what have I got to hide? Why wouldn’t I tell him everything I have been doing and thinking?

Probably because he wouldn’t want to know anyway, but more so, I need my own private world where I can feel free to think, do and see who and what I like.

Does this mean I am cold and unsharing? Not at all.

Ask my OH and you will be told this:  I talk… a lot. I ask questions… a lot.

But sometimes I will be quiet and I need to be left to my own internal world.

This worries him and he asks what is wrong.

Nothing is wrong. I am simply thinking, fantasising, imagining.

And, to be honest, I don’t always want to share that part of me.

To be even more honest, it irritates me to be constantly badgered to tell my secret thoughts.

How dull a relationship would be if there was no mystery at all?

How trapped I would feel if I cannot escape inside my own private world when I need to?

How monitored I would feel if I have to account for who I see, where I go, what I do?

Case in point…

I also, do not judge me!, run a twitter account for Lily, (AKA The Love Of My Life), and the OH had the password to access it.

Last year, before he officially joined twitter, the OH questioned me about a flirty twitter exchange I had with a guy, who found funny and entertaining, who I still tweet with today.

I heard judgement and almost accusation in his voice. I asked how he had even seen this exchange and he told me he had entered Lily’s account and looked to see who I was talking to.

I was LIVID.

As far as I was concerned, this was a complete invasion of my privacy.

I had always told him about any funny chats I had enjoyed during the day when he came home in the evenings. He had no need to access an account in order to see what I was doing. I was having funny, flirty banter, in full view of everyone on twitter, and it was perfectly harmless. But he made me feel awkward and ashamed about it.

That was when I decided I needed my secrets, my privacy, my own space.

We argued.

Other ways he unconsciously stepped over the line were discussed. For example, he would stand over my shoulder as I was online, tweeting, surfing the net, whatever.

I hate that feeling of someone watching me.

I should point out, the OH is not a monster. We have agreed on boundaries and limits since then, and, with the odd lapse, he has stuck to his end of the deal.

Recently the OH joined twitter and we exchanged several tweets throughout the day.

It did feel strange. Where we once texted each other to say something or ask something, now we were communicating on this very public forum and it just felt… weird.

Furthermore, anyone who follows me on twitter knows I am an outrageous flirt and I say what ever I like. So far, people seem to like it! The OH was fully aware that on twitter, what you see is what you get as far as I am concerned, so the flirting was not an issue, seeing as I would flirt with my own shadow in real life.

Not to mention he was aware of my twitter life after his snooping exercise!

The problem was not necessarily with him.

It was me. I started to feel less free to be me, silly as that may sound. I think the way I can explain it is, it was as if, during a night in with my girlfriends and a bottle of wine, he was suddenly there, listening to all our conversations.

I told him we needed space. I need a place where I can go… without him.

He was upset and disappointed but agreed.

I feel much happier now that I have my own space back.

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Not all secrets are bad in relationships.

On the contrary, the pressure to share every single aspect of oneself can feel suffocating and limiting in the extreme.

I would rather be in a relationship where both parties feel free to share what they feel is relevant and important, as well as feeling free to harbour their own secret thoughts, desires, fears, fantasies.

A secret willingly shared is worth much, much more than one discovered through subterfuge or coercion.

I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on this topic of past and present secrets in relationships.

Please do leave a comment, whether you agree or whether you think I am spouting complete tosh!

As always, thanks for stopping by…

Ciao

💋

Intimacy…


Intimacy.

It has been on my mind of late.

I have come to realise, admittedly quite late on in my life, that I feel ambiguous about it.

On one hand, I crave it. I want nothing more than to be truly, deeply intimate with my partner.

The other side of me struggles to achieve it.

The other side fears it.

The other side hides from it.

I am not sure I have ever been truly, truly intimate with him. Or anyone, for that matter.

Of course I can love. I am capable of incredible, consuming love. Lay down my life love.

Of course I have fallen in love. And I have stayed in love for years.

Of course I enjoy sex.

But it is SEX. I cannot even bring myself to utter the words making love, (much to the OH amusement).

I even flinch as I type them.

One of my guilty pleasure has always been The Pina Colada Song, Escape, but for THAT line, I sing, “Yes I like doing it at midnight…” Always makes him laugh.

The sad thing is I would love to be able to “ML”, but I don’t think I do…

I have sex. I fuck. I ride. It’s a physical thing. If I want to show love, I will make a delicious meal or write a loving note.

Am I a robot?

I know nothing about fear of intimacy so I did what any self-respecting person does in these modern times.

I googled it.

This is what I found…

How do you feel when you are sad, a little depressed, in need of some comforting and reassurance? Are you able to let yourself be dependent and to receive some nurturing? Is this balanced in your relationship, or is one partner the ‘strong one’ who never needs to show any vulnerability? If so, is this really how you want things to be in your relationship?

Aha! I am no good at asking for help or being nurtured. I like to help and to nurture. Being on the other side of that equation is uncomfortable for me. Years ago, during a therapy session I was asked if I was any good at asking for help. I was stumped. I went home and asked the OH who laughed and laughed. He said I never, ever asked for help. I never showed vulnurablity.

How do you feel about yourself? –  when you’ve taken a bit of a knock and are feeling small and ‘put down’, or when you’ve achieved something that makes you feel good about yourself.

I think I could safely claim to have one of the lowest levels of self esteem possible, and am sure the OH would second that one.

How do you feel about sex?  – what you like and don’t like in your love-making, and about how your sexual relationship could be made more enjoyable for you.

Ew! They used the “ML” phrase! Cringe… sex is brilliant, I love to fuck, who doesn’t? But the “ML” thing? Skin is crawling…

Do you really know what your partner thinks and feels, or do you have to guess and ‘mind-read?’ Are you able to be open with your partner, or do you feel that your partner would not be able to accept some of your feelings?

I feel dreadfully uncomfortable having deep and meaningful conversations and, add to that, the fact the OH leans towards the strong silent type and no doubt, you can guess the answer to this one.

Guess I’m screwed…

I also found this…

7 SIGNS YOU SUFFER FEAR OF INTIMACY

  1. You never sit still.

Are you one of those people who is always busy, your life full to the maximum? If you do have down time, do you immediately think of what you can do to fill it? Behind a fear of intimacy is a fear of facing up to yourself and what you perceive (erroneously) as your weaknesses. An intimacy phobic person fears others getting close because they would then see these apparent ‘flaws’, which can be feelings of sadness, anger, and grief. But if you are constantly busy all the time you can avoid such feelings so effectively you can deny that you have them at all, and you have the perfect excuse to not have time for other people who are trying to get close enough they might see what you are trying to hide.

I do like to be busy. At the weekends the OH longs to lie around doing nothing and I simply cannot bear this! Constant debate as to be productive, (me), or relax, (him).

  1. You are known as someone who is very positive.

People who fear intimacy prefer to come across as someone who never gets upset and is always strong and in a ‘good’ state of mind. It’s actually a way to avoid deep connection. The truth about human nature is that we don’t bond over strength but weakness. Sure, we can bump chests and high five over group wins, but we only really form long lasting bonds when we see each other vulnerable.

I have only recently become able to allow people to catch a glimpse of the woman who doesn’t always cope well with everything. It was a challenge but I am glad I did it.

 

  1. You are the strong one others turn to.

If you are the one others turn to, the conversation is always about someone else’s issues and needs. It’s a perfect diversion from anyone ever seeing your true vulnerability or ever asking about how you feel, which an intimacy phobic person hates. Someone asking how you feel at the wrong moment might make you ‘crack’ and expose yourself as just like them, i.e.,vulnerable.

Oh god! I am a dedicated agony aunt and have always attracted troubled people to me like moths to a flame.

  1. You appear perfectly put together. Always.

Is there anything more intimidating then perfection? The more perfect you appear externally, the less others can see that you are human and weak just like they are, and the less they will dare get close. Your perfectionism will make them feel ‘lesser than’ so why would they put themselves through the comparison? And let’s not forget how busy attempting to be perfect can keep you! Perfection is a part-time job at the very least, and as covered in number one, being busy is the best way to avoid intimacy.

I do like to come across well. Once during a training course a fellow student told me, several months in, that she had suspected I was a ‘stooge’ placed into the group by the trainers to spy on people, because I looked so confident and together.

  1. You are sure you know exactly what you want in a partner, you just haven’t found him/her yet.

Do you keep a ‘list’ of exactly what you want in a partner? Another form of perfection, the ‘ideal mate list’ is usually something that nobody can live up to, and is a convenient way to brush off connecting with others by claiming ‘I am sure of what I want and you just aren’t it.’

Of course as an intimacy phobic person, even if you did stumble across your ideal partner you wouldn’t choose them. Intimacy phobes are after one thing, and that is to avoid being hurt. So you will pick someone who is emotionally unavailable (already taken, not looking for love, still hung up on someone else) or someone who is codependent – wanting to find their happiness through another and therefore caught up in control and unable of proper, honest connection. Intimacy phobic people are in fact often called ‘counter dependent’ as they are the other ‘half’ of the codependency pattern, the aloof one to match the codependent’s voracious need.

I fall into the second point for this one, no list but frequently attracted to the wrong people.

  1. You are many different things to many different people. 

This could be called ‘Marilyn Monroe syndrome’. Everyone who claimed they knew her well had a different take on who the ‘real’ Marilyn was – the girl next door, the siren, the secretly intelligent woman. If anything, the real truth was that she was lonely and felt that nobody knew her. In other words, she had issues with intimacy. When you are afraid of intimacy you don’t know how to be yourself around others. You are so used to hiding the bits you deem unacceptable and assume others could not love that you mould yourself to instead be what you think others want.

It’s again a way to evade being fully seen, and to avoid anyone ever getting close enough to hurt you. If someone falls for an image of you they want to see, how can you be hurt if they decide they don’t like the image? You can just laugh at them and claim ‘well you didn’t really know me anyway’.

I have always moulded myself for other people. Always. What do you want me to be? I’ll be it for you.

  1. You have very strong opinions.

If you have very strong opinions of others and become known for this, it scares others off trying to get too close, lest they become next in your line of fire.

Finally! I don’t judge other people, I have no right to.

So it seems I am a perfect candidate for Intimacy Phobe of the year…

Sadly, knowing this, although the realization is a first step, does not help me overcome it.

It seems to me that the fear of intimacy stems from feeling inadequate, less than, not good enough.

That in turn leads to fear of being left or rejected if one’s weakness/vulnerablities are shown.

Its easier to stay in control, present a perfect facade and avoid being hurt, than to show the dirty, messy broken parts of yourself and risk someone grimacing and turning away.

I guess this is something I am going to have to stay mindful of, do some soul searching, build that self esteem up and, god help me! open up some more… uh I feel exhausted at the very thought of it all.

However, I feel very much like I am missing out on something so the work may well be worth it.

One final thought… sharing this with you guys and gals is probably a definite first step on my road to overcoming fear of intimacy, don’t you think?

Just don’t ask me to say the ”ML” phrase.

Ciao

💋

 

Letting go…


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Wise words indeed.

So simple.

So difficult.

Have you ever felt completely blindsided by “stuff” you thought you had dealt with, only to discover you had in fact merely buried it?

Do you find it easy or difficult to ‘let go’ of things that have hurt you?

I have recently been ambushed by feelings that I truly thought I had dealt with, that have hit me full on with a force I have been left shaken by. This has caused me to struggle daily with feeling angry, sad, betrayed, isolated and confused.

Some experiences I’ve had of late have repeated patterns I hadn’t even consciously realised existed. It was in reflection as to why I was feeling so very betrayed and angry, that I realised the things that had recently happened, in fact mirrored several experiences from my past. The fact that the betrayal came from the same person who hurt me before made it all the harder to cope with.

I questioned how could I have not remembered things like this had happened before?

How could I have blocked it out?

How could they do it to me again and, maddeningly, how could I have let it happen?

I confronted the person head on. Many harsh words were exchanged. Following several long days and nights of fighting and discussion, in equal measure, he came to acknowledge and understand the patterns we have followed for so long. I agreed to forgive, but not to forget again.

This hurt I was carrying was not serving either of us.

I thought I had built my bridge and gotten over it…

Nope!

In a sudden flash I find myself back feeling hot, fiery residual anger. My vision clouds over, my blood pressure rises, I begin to feel serious, murderous rage.

What the fuck is happening to me?

Why am I unable to let go of the hurt?

Am I simply an unforgiving, malicious cow? Am I the bad person here? Am I merely drawing out the punishment?

Or do I maybe not trust that I will not the betrayed and hurt again?

Perhaps that is the crux of this issue. Is it really possible to ‘let go’ of hurt, if you do not feel safe and secure that you will not be dealt the same blow again?

When trust is broken, can it ever be truly, one hundred percent, regained?

I understand it is my responsibly to either grant the person another chance to prove the mistakes of the past will not be repeated, or to decide the trust is well and truly gone. That scares me.

So, back to the quote that started this post…

Can I let go of hurt? It is not serving me well.

Do I want to?

Am I ready to?

How have you guys and gals coped with feeling hurt and let down? I would love to hear about your experiences.

Thanks for taking time out with me.

Ciao

💋