::.achike ketsunoana.:: (gothicotter) wrote,
::.achike ketsunoana.::

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More Bottled-up, More Fucked-up

I haven't seen Jon since I was in New Orleans. We make sure to talk a couple of times a week, though it never seems enough. We're both always so busy. It's been so long since I was in a long distance relationship. I had forgotten how hard it is to not see one another on a regular basis. It is, however, forcing us to take this pretty slowly, which I think is a good thing. I want to know who he is as a person before I fall in love. 

It is strange to me to have a boyfriend & to not be sexually active on a regular basis. Sex is so important to me in a relationship. It's weird not to be having it, but I don't resent it. I really like him. A lot. My gut feeling is that there's something substantial there & I don't want to ruin it. Besides, it would go against my nature to be with someone other than the person I want. 

He will be in town at the end of January. I am so nervous. I am so excited! I just know I'll be shy when I see him, but at the same time I'm gonna want to pounce on him! It'll be almost four months by then, approximately three of which chaste. I think we both will be equally enthusiastic about sharing a bed while he's here.

He's agreed to meet my BFF this visit. I'm going to try & squeeze in drinks with Sean & Paul also if possible. I want him to know my boys. I hope desperately that all will hit it off. I want desperately for my boyfriend to be approved of by my closest friends. I need my choice validated. I need to know I did a good job this time because I usually fail miserably, the most recent failing being the most epic. 

So I've lost 15lbs total so far. Only 5lbs away from my first goal, then another 5lbs to what is possibly my maintaining weight. I'm hoping I'll lose the first 5 before I see Jon. I know he is happy with the way I look now-- his pet name for me is 'beautiful'-- but I HAVE to get back into those pants! For me! I won't lose my curves. It's quite impossible without mutilation. 

My life is so stressful lately. I'm so up & down. I want desperately to be happy, but my head is all fucked up. I fucking hate this shit so much. I just want to cry. I don't understand how someone who is dead can continue to torture me so much. I feel hopeless, like all I'll ever be is the sad girl who never really smiles anymore, the girl that is punished because no one around her understands that her personality change is due to trauma, not some kind of rebellion. This is like living with my mother all over again-- ASSUMPTIONS, ASSUMPTIONS, ASSUMPTIONS. How about checking with the person who has changed? No one ever thought of that...

I'm judged because people don't take the time to ask questions or try to understand, they simply assume. That's how I've been treated all my life. No one bothers to try to communicate with me & when I try, they ignore me. Then, of course, shit happens, & then they're all "Ooooh, THAT'S what you were talking about!" 

It's so frustrating. You'd think that adults would be able to listen to what each is saying & could discern when a person is serious about something. You'd think it would be a clue when it's a topic that is brought up repeatedly. 

At least the right people are finally listening after the fact...I just hope I won't be punished for my reacting to the trauma-- it's not my fault & I did try to prevent it without breaking the rules. I'm really not one for rule-breaking because it causes too much chaos.

This shit is seriously fucking with my head. I know I'm different. It's become painfully obvious recently to others that I am. I fucking hate it. I don't like being the one odd duck that has to be handled with care. It kills me inside that I'm so fragile. 

I saw a new therapist recently. He said he thinks that because I can't remember much from before age 9, there was most likely abuse going on then. He thinks that it may have been going on closer to the full 17 years. Fuck me. I don't necessarily know how to process that. I mean, yes, that possibility has occurred to me, & all I really remember anyway was bad stuff, but to have a person actually say that the stuff I don't remember was also most likely bad stuff is terrifying. The stuff I remember is bad enough, how much worse is the stuff that is still locked away? I don't know if I even want to know. 

I wish I could just have happy amnesia about my past & completely wipe out the PTSD while we're at it. It would be nice to just replace all the bad memories with good. 

I wish I could be normal. Happy. I want to be an O-Zone song. I want to be Dragostea Din Te.
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