Honestly...

Tonight I grew tired of beating around the bush. So here's some hard honesty from little old me. It's not pretty, it's the truth.

I think I'm getting frustrated and here's the reason why:

I am about this close to snapping. If anyone in this little corner of the universe is more sexually frustrated than me right now, I would love to meet them. Especially if they're a guy.

But what can I do about it but peel labels off of bottles until I howl because my fingers hurt?

I really, physically NEED someone to end this but mentally I know damn well I don't. With the rheumatoid continuing to make me want to throw hissy fits, it's not a good time. And then there's going to England in a month and a half. SO not a good time to get a guy...

So in short, my misery wants company but my plans just won't allow it.

But everyone wants me to date someone; possibly to erase any memory of last year's little fiasco. I AM looking, with great restraint and cunning. But lately it feels like my restraint is about ten seconds away from snapping in two.

It's not like I don't know how to "fire off the rockets" on my own, but lately it's working less and less to let off the steam and now I'm beginning to think I need therapy to keep from going whacko.

This can't be good for my psyche; it can't be healthy.

And to HELL with religion. If God can't answer a simple question I asked him, then he clearly will not care if I go off and get laid, for once.

In summary, I need therapy or I need to stop thinking so much or I need to get laid. Possibly all three.

Oh, but I'm not done. Not by a long shot. I can't understand this, but I have a "repulsive to guys" thing. Guys don't notice me for the most part. Don't know why. It's been this way since I was 16, and while I've wanted it to change, it hasn't. With about three minor exceptions, I have pretty much been left out in the cold when it comes to someone being attracted to me.

AND of course all this being ignored and yet being dreadfully horny at least half the time has made me depressed.

And you think: Well, yeah. If guys ignored me like the plague and my twisted, overheated mind admired the male form immensely and wanted a piece of the action but couldn't even get a NIBBLE, despite valiant and heroically continued efforts, OF COURSE I'd be depressed.

So it goes. I get depressed. I hide. I sit at my computer all day, every day watching Youtube videos, living vicariously through Doctor Who and other characters, reading hot fanfic to make myself feel better, and listening to endless bouts of Muse. I grin, smile, laugh, and la-dee-dah, pretending I am totally, completely loving life when really I can't stand another minute of it.

This, of course, backfires when you realize that I do NOT go out and party or drink or stay out late. I make the excuse that it's the rheumatoid, but really I'm so out of the dating loop that I'm terrified I will, forgive my French, fuck up and totally blow it with society in general.

This adds to the problem because as everyone knows, the first rule of dating is to throw yourself out there. Make yourself visible. But how do you become visible when you were invisible in the first place?

The going to England thing is, I believe, an attempt to escape my misery. This time I'm going to get out of it, this time I will escape it.

I am trying not to think that in May I will be in exactly the same position as now, only more miserable because yet another attempt to escape my boring life has been foiled.

I am truly and viciously caught in a trap of my own design. I've been living on a little puffy cloud of hope and light, but little puffy clouds of light only last so long, and mine is just about gone.

I am a rather nice, smart, fairly unique, so-so attractive person who is internally imploding and if I could find a way to stop it I would.

Being the snake swallowing its own tail isn't so easy if you're the snake. I think, metaphorically speaking, I am that poor, bewildered snake.

See how easy it is being me?

I get tired of people not understanding how tiring each day is when (step in my shoes for a minute, here) when you LOOK at a nice-looking guy in class and see his eyes sweep RIGHT over you and onto the girl sitting next to you, how frustrating it is when you are nice and sweet to a guy only to have them start flirting with the girl behind you.

You start to wonder if maybe your hormones are crazy; maybe you're crazy; maybe you're not trying hard enough; maybe you did something wrong; are you just not good enough anymore? Were you ever good enough? Will you ever BE good enough? It makes you question whether you will ever get out of the little cycle you seem to be in.

I'm not stupid enough to believe it isn't me anymore. 5 years of basically nothing at all has taught me it's my fault. If I could just figure out what I'm doing wrong, I might be able to fix it...

Ah, listen to my whining. It's about time for some antidepressants. Bring on the Muse; I need a pick-me-up...

Cheers,
Bec