I have not been looking for people to meet despite my suffering for companionship. I really think there was something good there with my friend Jacqueline, but I just couldn’t handle the physical part. It was too much for my fragile state. I don’t think I’m much farther along in that department, then to now. I’m not prepared to commit to a physical, intimate, demanding arrangement. Especially not since I don’t even know how much energy I have to maintain my life and responsibilities… I shouldn’t be too hasty taking on more of a burden. I’m, nevertheless, going to still try and meet new people. I’ve started a new OkCupid account and I’m going to try and be real with people, and see where it gets me. I think I can make SOME form of new connection, that might help to stem the flow of aching sadness I feel being so isolated and regrettably unwanted. I don’t think it’s universally true that these sorts of connections must end in companionship. Albeit, I am, in a sense, not looking to “mess around” anymore, and would consider something that had all the right pieces. But the chance of finding that are micro-cosmically low. My satisfaction rides on high standards. I’ve tried compromising my beliefs, and pandering to lesser ways, and I’ve ruined my life over it. I’m not going to do that again. If the pieces line up, then I’m going for it, because the possibility would need to result in the last relationship I get involved in. THE VERY LAST. I’m not fucking kidding, I can’t go through the level of pain I went through like last time. I’m going to be healing from that for months yet. Because the hurt is still so real, so fresh, so deep. I want to move beyond that sadness, which I feel is amplified by my isolation.
So I’m giving it a try, because I can’t go on alone forever. I have to be proactive about dealing with this pain, which is starting to get the better of me. I’m falling prey to spasms of nearly unstoppable suffering and a want to shed my tears and weep. At work. On the clock.
See why I can’t have this? I’m doing great out here on my own. I’m a matter of weeks from signing papers and locking up a place of my own. I just went and saw it today, and boy can I ever imagine myself up in there. It’s a perfect size for me, and just enough home to feel at home in. If that makes any sense. It doesn’t feel like a hotel room, it feels like my house.
I’m spinning the wheel. Isn’t that what us mentally ill people do? We’re never just happy being with one thing, settling down to a programmed, monotonous way of life. I live in a mercurial state, and I have to be understood for who I am in order to achieve any sort of friendship ion this life. I don’t want to be alone forever. I hope you out there can understand my thinking here. I’m not openly disclosing my mental illness, because I don’t identify myself as a patient of my disorder anymore. My disability is treatable, and when managed responsibly, is unnoticeable. I want to meet someone who doesn’t get repelled by a foul stigma, but rather, identifies who I am first, and accepts my flaws for what they are as part of the process of understanding. And I hers, as we are not perfect beings, but fractured and full of diverse aspects. We are lucky if we ever truly find harmony in life… a thing I desperately seek. Maybe you’re out there somewhere?