Oh god, I have been neglectful here. It’s ironic. When I didn’t have a constant connection to the internet at Dad’s, I would write up text files to post on here the next time I was at Carrie’s or at the library. Now that I can go on any old time, I… don’t. I don’t know why. It’s so stupid.
Because it’s not like things aren’t going on. Okay, not a LOT is going on for me personally, but I see people often enough in my day to day and THEY have stuff going on that I could at least talk about some of that. You would think.
The thing is — although nobody’s doing anything morally or ethically wrong, strictly speaking — L (my housemate) and Neighbor have a particular cause they support that faces a lot of emnity these days, and I hesitate to talk much about particulars because I don’t know when I might say the wrong thing and get one or both of them harassed or worse. We, they more than me because they are more widely known, are contending with violent lunatics in all senses of the word violent. Either the lunatics want to actually assault and batter people or they want to move the levers of power to punish people in other ways, in retribution for things which are completely normal and not wrong at all, and they’ve shown they’re quite willing. Being on the receiving end of that is not what you’d call an enviable state of being. So it’s easier a lot of times to just say nothing. I’ll talk about some of the general situation on social media but even there I get vague.
Another thing is, after my experiences over twenty years with the particular branches of that lunacy called the Neopagan and polyamorous communities and all the paragons of good mental health those attract (yes, that was sarcasm), I find I have something like PTSD. I didn’t get the Crazy Weirdo vibes off L that I did off Elizabeth back in Dublin, still don’t, but I have no idea what crosses a line (other than a couple dealbreakers L told me about in our initial chat on the subject, and those are easy to avoid) and I am all too aware of my propensity to come off wrong. So I’m hesitant to talk about my own life because in terms of living situations, I am absolutely on my last fucking legs. There’s no way to go but rock bottom from here. I can see it on a foggy day, never mind a clear one. We’ll see how things go over the next several months, if I have several months (there is so much I still don’t know and can’t predict), and re-evaluate.
Well, no. I will try to get back into a daily journaling habit. I may even go back over my Facebook and Instagram posts and use them to try to fill in some things here. I’m probably overthinking every fucking thing like I always do. It’s funny. I will defend Amber Heard even though she fought back against Johnny Depp and that’s just Not Done in abuse situations and then still not connect that I suffered emotional and psychological abuse for the better (worse) part of thirty fucking years and that my being an asshole in response negates or mitigates absolutely none of that. Now I’m letting that whole experience steal away bits of me. No. Not fucking having it.
Still, it wasn’t all bad. I learned some things along the way. Even a stopped clock, etc. People who suffer abuse are not all saints either, and I’m perfectly capable of learning from my own bullshit and preventing some future mistakes. Wish I could prevent them all, but I’ll do what I can.
Meh.
The other thing I didn’t want to talk about is there are a couple guys who seem Interesting. One I see locally, and one is long-distance but I’ll get to meet him this August because he’s connected to this whole… community. One is unusually kind for a man, and his background explains a lot of that but I need to not make the mistake of thinking that a guy who’s being kind is Interested, because I’ll just get hurt. The other pays more attention to me on Facebook than I would have expected for someone I’ve never met who has zero background with me, including a recent remark that would have been too easy to interpret as a flirt and which I deflected with as much humorous aplomb as I could manage, and I’m curious to see what vibe I will get off him when he comes to visit.
Either way, if either of them is a Possibility, he’ll have to say something. I’m a dumbass. I have no idea what’s going on. Spell it out for me.
With your tongue would be fine.
Shut up, Dana.
It won’t happen but if it did I still don’t know how I would respond. After all the shit with Matt I am left doubting who the fuck I am and what the fuck I would do. Craig had the same effect on me. If I start seeing that whole vibe happening again, I’m out. I will be diplomatic about it with Local Guy because my life is kind of tied up with him a little bit right now in a way I will not spell out here — maybe ten, twenty years from now when it doesn’t matter anymore — but he’s the less likely-to-be-Possible of the two anyway, but if Long-Distance Guy starts acting like that, it won’t be pretty. That’s a thing I’m more afraid of out of all the possible outcomes. I have to watch myself lest I be triggered. I don’t think it’ll happen, but the possibility is greater than zero. What am I talking about? I’m hypervigilant, and if someone’s lying to me then I pick up signs early and they stress me out and heighten that stress and it does not bring out the best in me. I can’t go through that again. I will nuke it from space just to be sure. I’m done.
I have to laugh, too. I didn’t come here to find a guy. I’m not even sure it’s a good idea to let a guy find me. What the fuck could I do with that? I have nothing. I basically AM nothing right now. Can’t bring anything to a relationship when you’re nothing.
Oh well. I’ll just play it by ear.
Meanwhile, let me get going because I swear to fucking God I need to organize my files and I’m just dicking around with this instead. ‘Later.