Thursday, 23 June 2011
I was in a musing mood for a while earlier while browsing YouTube and coming across some songs I haven’t heard in 12 years and thinking “Wow, late 90s and early 2000s were awesome for music”. Then it kinda hit me “Fuck, that was 12 years ago… I’m 26 this year…” I’ve joked a few times about getting “old” and as much as I know you’re only as young as the woman (or guy) you feel, it started to put a few things in perspective for me. A lot of people come to me for advice which I’m more than happy to dispense, but at the same time I get aggravated when people ask for my opinion and then go and do the absolute opposite or act like I haven’t said anything at all. Makes me kinda “FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUU-“ inside and wonder why they bothered asking me in the first place. I’ll admit that I’m not amazing at taking my own advice (but who is?) and that I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I see my life so far as an example on how NOT to do things and therefore I can tell people “Well, you don’t want to do xyz…” But I digress.
While thinking about the advice that I’ve dispensed, I’ve thought about the advice that I’ve been given and this ties into the whole YouTube thing as well. Back when I was 16, I thought I knew best. When people gave me advice, I ignored it. Back when I was 21, I thought I knew best. When people gave me advice, I ignored it. Now I’m almost 26, I know I don’t always know best. When people give me advice, I fucking listen. Yeah, it’s taken me almost 10 years to stop and think that people might actually have valid points when they give me advice. I suppose part of that was arrogance in a way, thinking that the other person didn’t know the whole situation in the same way that I did, that maybe they were wrong and things might actually work out if I did things my way. I guess my frustrations with my friends are a few things:
- I’ve generally been in similar situations and can see they’re heading down the same routes that I did (and the “but this time it might work” logic usually DOESN’T :P)
- I know I’ll be hearing about how it didn’t work out when it doesn’t
- I don’t want to see them get hurt
- It makes me feel like a failure when I advise someone and they still get hurt
But see, that’s part of what I have to re-learn. Emotional detachment, in a sense. I was at one extreme when I was with Robbie and he made me stop giving a shit about everyone and everything and I guess that lasted for longer than I thought. I dunno, it’s like after him when I was having to rebuild myself mentally, I ended up caring too much about others. In terms of opinions of me, the only ones I really care about are those of people who are important to me.
Along with all that came redefining who I was again and I guess it took longer than I thought. Steve was a very… oppressive individual. Much like my mother, he tried to impose his beliefs, likes and dislikes upon me. For a while, I gave into that. I was young and impressionable. Then I started to grow some balls (not literally) and realise that we actually had different tastes in certain things. He took objection to this as I think he wanted us to be the exact same person (and as I don’t take pleasure in beating the shit out of people, I guess we were never going to be that), and in the years that have passed, I appreciate having differences in a relationship all the more. It comes down to a balance. Too many or major differences and it won’t work. Too few and you get bored of each other. I know personally I like someone with a very similar personality to myself. I like to feel needed but not to the point where I’m propping the other person up 24/7. Making people believe in themselves seems to be something I’m good at. I’ve always had the “so and so was so quiet/down/introverted before they met you”. I wouldn’t say that I’m a bouncing off the walls ball of hyper squeeness all the time (although when I’m on a manic, I can be exactly that), but I do seem to give people some confidence. I enjoy doing batshit insane and random things. Sometimes the batshit insane and random things are pretty romantic. I don’t recommend writing a message in gravel on someone’s driveway when said driveway is the same colour as the gravel though. It tends to get overlooked due to the similar colour of the stones and as cute as the gesture may be, you also end up with the whole thing of the gravel goes everywhere. Yes, that is something I actually did for someone… -blush- Anyway, my point is that I enjoy that side of myself. Not just the romantic, but the desire to do those things that may seem crazy to others. Probably the same part of me that still loves going on the swings at the park at my age. The world has more than enough of its share of boring and ordinary. I guess that’s why I’ve always had a love of /b/ and all the random stuff that I come across on the internets not to mention the people I can mess around with and do crazy things with.
Having BPD is kinda challenging though. I mean, sometimes I can have amazing bouts of self-confidence and really be happy with myself and the next I can (in the words of Lit) “kick the living shit out of me”. Unfortunately I can’t just stop that and it’s generally when I need a bit of a push. As much as I know people overuse the tagline under my blog title, it’s very true for myself. My worst times are bad. I know this. They’re not as bad as they once were and for that I’m grateful. I honestly feel like I AM improving. I also know that my good times are fucking amazing and awesome. I hope to have many more while I can :3
Sunday, 12 June 2011
The Violets Explode Inside Me When I Meet Your Eyes, Then I'm Spinning and I'm Diving Like A Cloud of Starlings...
Well, something pretty huge happened last week. So much so that I thought I should actually write about it as it's made me think about a few things and I think they will remain true regardless of what happens from here on out.
Firstly, I met up with someone for the first time in over a year. I'll admit they've crossed my mind from time to time quite a lot since we kinda went our separate ways over a year ago. I know I wrote at great length about how I felt about things. At no point did I say I'd ever forgotten him. Because I hadn't. It was talking to him on Friday that made some things very clear to me:
Him: "You know, I honestly thought that you'd forgotten all those good times we had together and just trashed them... Like all you could think about was the bad and didn't remember the good."
That was far from the truth. I very often retold the amusing stories about how we were convinced this guy playing croquet looked like Gordon Freeman, about the time I got my face painted like a cat and walked around the local shopping centre, the time I danced in the snow outside The Forum catching snowflakes, the time we hid from a raging thunderstorm under the tiny shelter outside a pub, the time we had sex in Earlham Park during a firework display, the time we decided that the local park was like something out of Silent Hill, laughing at Failkid in said park... Heck, even the time we went to a photography exhibit at the Forum and wrote rude but intelligent things on the Post-It notes they'd so kindly provided at the back of the room. In short, we had a lot of great times together. Not just the crazy dressing up to play 4 different profiles each on Burnout times, but the curling up together and watching a film times, the laying on our backs in the park and watching the clouds go by times... I'll openly admit now that there have only been two people that I've slept with who I've looked in the eyes during sex and told them I loved them. He was one of them.
I never lied about how I felt about him or felt I was forcing anything. It just... WAS.
Anyway, I've been mulling some things over since I spoke to him. The comment about me forgetting the good and remembering only the bad made me think a lot. I read back over my journals and realised quite often I do the opposite. I'll forget the bad and remember only the good, pass up on seeing the flaws in the relationships because I get scared of being alone or because I refuse to recognise how deep the faults were. I've said before that I can make myself believe anything given enough time to logic it out. The amount of times I've stuck up for people and said "Oh well it wasn't THAT bad really" when actually it was.
I'd realised a few weeks ago that I was over Inigo. Doesn't mean to say that seeing him in the streets doesn't make me a mess. It's not because I still have feelings for him (if I do, it's something very different to what I felt when we were together), but more the memories connected to him. At the start of this year, he and I had a discussion about staying friends and I recall him saying something about it being very damaging. I was of the opinion that it would actually help us both move on properly and not leave anything lurking around to fuck either of us up in years to come. Having spent so many years trying to achieve closure on what happened between myself and Steve, I didn't particularly want to go through the same thing again. At the end of the day, we did have good times. We had some pretty amazing conversations. Some amusing incidents when we were out (though in retrospect getting a law student to steal a traffic cone wasn't really that big a deal). Somehow I could never shake the feeling that I wasn't good enough for him. And you know what? I think he knew it all along too. The longer the relationship went on, the more I realised that it was more and more me trying with it. That essentially I was a time filler until he went to Cambridge. That wasn't what I wanted to be. The more I look at things now from a distance, I realise how I was a lot more outgoing than he would ever be. Yes, I brought him out of himself, but there was just something that I was missing. I don't deal well being the dom in a relationship all the time. I mean, I can do it and it's fun from time to time, but not all the time. I guess that also brings me onto the sexual incompatabilities as well. I do like being treated a bit rough at times. Not as in being punched in the mouth until I bleed and then being forced to give a blowjob (which would be kinda weird even by my standards and I have no idea where that imagery came from), but simply enjoying someone being forceful with me and myself submitting. I know there's a good couple of people on my Facebook who know exactly what I'm talking about! But yeah, there was actually quite a lot of things that irritated me now I think about it. One of the largest was this:
Me, earlier this year: "If Inigo had really loved me, he wouldn't give a shit about an hour on a train"
And that was so very true. Norwich to Cambridge is nothing. I would totally have been understanding about the whole uni course coming before all else (fuck me, I was when he was still at the UEA) and again I felt like I was being labelled as a fucking Jess. One of the things that really annoys me is when people think they know how I'm going to behave. I did a fucking long distance relationship for a year and that was Norwich to London, back when I was 16 and couldn't actually afford to go and see him that often. In the first year of being together, we saw each other 3 times. We ended up being together for 5 fucking years total. So yeah, trying to say that you know how I will act is fucking bullshit. It seemed like he was looking for an easy way out and instead of being honest with me, there had to be some sort of charade instead. After I had sufficiently distanced myself, I realised that it was indeed a very one-sided relationship in terms of effort. Sure, there were the cute moments of walking me to Team, picking me up a random danish etc... To say it was all shit would be as bad as trying to blind myself and believe that it was all good.
At the end of the day, no relationship is 100% problem free. In the time that I've been away from the first person I referenced here (and for those who are maybe less astute, I'm talking about Richard), I do feel that a lot has changed. For starters, my personal circumstances are very different. My accommodation is stable, I have a better grasp on my mental health than I did back then, and as much as it pains me to say it, I learned a lot of harsh lessons. I'm also not the complete mouse that I used to be (I'll actually order drinks at a bar for example) and I feel that I have more of an identity than I used to. One of the problems of coming out of the whole Robbie and Steve thing was that I was still being repressed in many ways. I needed to be out on my own and find myself. As much as this past year has been me shutting myself off from people, I have actually found myself at the end of it and I believe I am a much stronger person now than I was then. I've had more than my fair share of skinned knees, but I'm standing back up again. A tad shaky maybe, but getting there. I do know that I'm in an entirely different position to what I was when I first met him. One thing he said was about how I was seemingly back to who I was when he first met me... That's true in a lot of ways. I'm certainly not the person I was last summer. By any stretch of the imagination. I can't say I'm entirely the person he first met either. I've learned and experienced things since then. In terms of temperament, I'd say it's pretty fitting. I just need to make sure I'm not bottling things up (which I rarely do now) and letting them get out of hand. Most things seem to be under control nicely right now and I have to say from the time I spent with him, he seemed a lot more responsive in terms of conversation. Like, before it used to be such a fucking chore to have a conversation that involved talking about anything involving emotion. That seemed to come a lot more freely on Friday.
I wouldn't be adverse to giving things another shot. I've actually kicked myself a lot since I turned down his proposition last year at that. At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing. I was listening to everyone else and that tipped the balance for me. I saw it as he'd moved on, didn't really want to be with me and that I was just useful as someone to screw when he was bored. So, I pulled myself together and then I met Inigo. I refused to listen to how I still felt about Richard (no, I never really stopped caring for him), convinced myself that moving forward was for the best (and maybe in some ways it was) and so when it came around to him asking me about giving things another shot... I bolted. Maybe some childish part of me wanted him to feel the way I did when he shot me down in flames before Christmas. Predominantly it was the whole thinking that other people were right and I was wrong for holding on to anything and thinking that he didn't give a damn about me. I realised on Friday that I had been so totally wrong about that and said the words I always find hard to say but I mean:
Where things go from here, I don't know. I... wouldn't be adverse to giving things another try if things continued to go well but I'm by no means pinning all my hopes on that happening.
But he will forever be my Starling <3