neuroticgirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- more than you ever wanted to know about neuroticgirl And in the more than you ever wanted to know about neuroticgirl realm I present you with this ... These are the kind of entries that make me want to password my diary. Just because I wouldn't want someone that I know stumbling upon this and wanting to talk to me about the shit. Ahem. But then I think, what the fuck? It's my diary. Right? Right. I have sex issues. Big huge sex issues. I spent my entire childhood building a nice big 9000 square foot foundation for anything sex related to set up issues upon. My mom and her various friends spent 8 years pouring the concrete. If you build it they will come. So I've got deep rooted, firmly planted issues. I've never dealt with these things before because I'm good at playing make-believe. I don't even think I was very aware of the extent these issues effect me until recently. I've always been in control of every sexual situation. Even in giving up control I've been in control. I know how to slant things towards where I want them to be and I've fully taken advantage of that. I've floated through meaningless sex encounters time and time again. And it was all about me. I didn't really give a shit what my partner got out of it. I was in control. Then I married Billy. A little about him. He's safe. He's very safe. He is so eager to please me that he has no opinions of his own. He'll do whatever he thinks will make me happy. I didn't do this to him, his mom did. He was broken long before I came along. Sex with billy was very safe because I was in control there too. In the years he and I have been together he has never, never, not one time asked anything of me sexually. Not even one measly little blow job. Not once. 10 years. He's only instigated sex three times. Everything that has ever happened between billy and I was because I wanted it. So it's all been about me. The blind leading the blind. I've just recently realized that I'm not equipped to deal with a healthy sexual relationship. It's not so much that I flashback to bad childhood memories. It's just that I get overwhelmed. I spend a few minutes with that deer in the headlight look on my face and then I disassociate. Which works fine for while, but certainly that isn't how it's supposed to be. It's not fair to my partner and it's not fair to me. The harder I try to take my head out of the situation the more I freak out. I'm entirely too analytical. It's not like I don't enjoy the sex. I do. The during isn't really a problem. It's the before and after that freak me right the fuck out. The before freaks me out quite a fucking bit but it's the after that kills me. All kinds of shit runs through my head all at once and most of the time I end up feeling contemptible and undeserving. Obviously I have to get over this. Therapy makes me feel flawed on more levels than I care to admit. I don't want to sit in some really comfortable chair in an extremely uncomfortable office telling someone about my past while they nod and um-hmmm their way through my childhood. I don't want to dwell on things that I didn't deserve but got dealt anyway. And what if those things aren't my problem at all? Then I've rehashed a lot of pretty terrible events for nothing. Just to find out that the real root of my issues is that I didn't cut out enough paper dolls as a child or something. I'm just not sure that it's worth it. 12:07 pm - 05.30.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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