towazu

The worst part about having a fraught relationship with sexuality is that you can't tell anyone about it.

That really isn't to say you literally cannot tell anyone. But that sort of thing is too personal for most people. It's awkward.

I have a therapist, but I wouldn't want to tell her any details about my struggle with sex and desire. Yes, she and I are both gay. I think that makes me feel generally comfortable with her. I can at least mention my attraction to men or reference it when it is relevant. But it still feels wrong to go into any sort of depth.

Am I projecting my own feelings onto others? Probably. The shame is the center of all of my struggles. One thing, I feel it protects me from further humiliation. Sex and love-- are they humiliating by their nature? Why do I feel this way? I don't know.

I have given it some good thought. The evidence-- a smattering of vague memories and feelings. I review the movie of my lost romance in my head. I feel a myriad of emotions before a thought pops into my head, "What did you really think of me?". A deep pang of sadness overwhelms me.

I don't understand it still. I feel so alone that its hard to catch my breath. All the evidence says my ex-boyfriend cherished me, perhaps to the point of worship. And yet I sit here and think "What was I to you, really? How could this be?". I mistrust my memories, I mistrust the boy who loved me in my memories. I feel a distinct hopelessness.

If I wasn't at work today I'm sure I'd feel very uneasy because that's my personality. I can't feel relaxed with the sense of shirked obligations hanging over my head. I feel this way even on my days off.

But! If it were possible to access obligationless peace I felt before I entered school, I could really go for a hot hot bath right now. Maybe with something fragrant, bright, and fresh in the water. It's misty and cold today and my body is achey and uncomfortable.

I hadn't posted about this because I wasn't ready to. Partially I've been processing the information.
My very dear friends are engaged to be married, and they've invited me to be a bridesman (like a bridesmaid who is a man, haha) in their wedding.

The bride has been my precious friend since middle school. She saved my life twice. Still, I was pretty shocked.

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What a selfish bastard I am, making her beautiful wedding into yet another vehicle to torture myself with.

Overall I am keeping my self hatred and relationship anxiety managed and checked. For the first time in a long time, I feel a drive to live and be my best self.

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I think as I grow older, I suffer from a sense that I am diminishing in importance to the people around me. I want them to be happy and have their own lives, but those lives don't have much to do with me. I feel no drive to bond with others, because I don't see how I could be important to anyone at all. I guess being invited to be in the wedding is somewhat of a reality check. Yes, her life in the day-to-day has little to do with me. But just as I cherish her, could she not still cherish me anyways? Being mentally ill is very stupid sometimes. Haha.