It's been years since I've been honest about how I feel. I mean, not about my job, my kids, my friends, my life overall. It's been years that I've been honest about my relationships. Dating. Dating sucks. I hate dating. I always did. I was in the military, before that I was actually, yes, believe it or not, a sorority girl. I've heard every, and I mean every, horrible, good, cute, sucky, bullshit, dumbass, desperate, and then some, pick up line known to man. My favorite was when a buddy, after a retirement of a Chief we worked for in the Navy was: "I've got a dozen or so buttons just calling your name." If you know nothing about the original Navy Crackerjacks, well, look it up. It's still friggin hilarious when I think about the look on that girl's face. No, he wasn't hitting on me. I was complicated. I'm pretty sure I'm still as complicated, if not more, than I ever was then back then. I had plenty of rules. They were all geared to protect me. I went in to the military with baggage and I came back out with more baggage. Anyone with PTSD just multiplies what they came in with. It's like starting with two rabbits and having a hundred after only a few months.
My PTSD is my biggest friend...used to be. It helps me totally freak out every time I meet someone with real potential. Not that anyone with real potential comes around on a regular basis. I'm an uber goober geek with a super sarcastic sense of humor. In example, a friend was trying very poorly this evening to pretend like he was a duck, or chicken, or goose....Everyone watching and I blurt out while everyone thinks I'm paying no attention that he's practicing his "blow job" neck. The women at the table bust out laughing. I'm friggin hilarious. My sense of humor is sailor crossed with super smart ass (before the Navy) crossed with a lot of smarts. My friends tell me all the time I need to find someone as smart as me. From experience, I'm not sure what that is. I mean I know plenty of people as smart or smarter than me. Ok, no, I really don't. I'm so geeky the only reason that I'm not shunned by everyone I know is that I'm pretty, I'm dedicated, faithful, honest and always have my friends' backs. I'm not actually as pretty as I used to be. Of course, back then I had no idea I was even pretty. Who knew?
Anyway, eventually my life sucked. My ex was not only not supportive when I got out of the Gulf. He actually made it worse. I was just desperately trying to make it all work--keep my life normal. I don't talk about it much. He was horrible to me while I was deployed to the point my friends overheard what he was saying to me, took the phone from me and hung up, and went to our Senior Chief to contact his command that enough was enough. My trust factors have never been the same. Not that they were huge to start with, but whatever they were got worse from my service and even worse with the things he did. Not a dwell thing. Just a didn't friggin help thing.
So over the years I've been very blessed to have people that had no idea what I was going through who always had my back, who when someone touched me and I freaked would take my side, who loved me no matter how friggin ridiculous I seemed. They helped heal me in so many aspects. Eventually, I started to thrive--work, kids, friends and family. A lot of that was them and one-on-one counseling with a fabulous psychiatrist. But I never looked at rejection. Ever. I just never cared about it. I had never been rejected. I barely was interested in anyone including my ex, let alone worried about rejection. But my PTSD made me feel alone. Alone all the time. At home alone, out with friends sometimes, hanging out with my boys fishing. I would just be overcome with loneliness. It especially sucked when the boys were gone for the summer. When they were home, I could walk into their rooms and just sit with them and listen to them breath and know in my heart I wasn't alone-alone. But I was alone, and terrifyingly alone in the summers when they were gone. My motorcycle gave me comfort. But not much else did.
So I dated. Sort of. With the start of an organization to help those of us with PTSD, one of my best friends, called me out. How am I doing this while my PTSD still cripples me in some cases? Uh. No. It doesn't. Then she pointed out my "cycle". A year and a half to two years with someone that I already had an arm's length list of reasons that I should not be dating them. Then I stay away from dating for a year, Wash, rinse, repeat. I initially got a little pissy and said she was wrong. I thrive in spite of my PTSD. Yes, in every aspect of my life but relationships. I don't date anyone viable she told me and it was time for me to start only dating guys I would consider long term. Enough is enough...Yea, I told her I needed to get off the phone rather than argue that she was wrong. She was wrong.
Of course, that settled into my head and a couple days and...I did mention super uber goober geek...I started to think about what she was saying. She wasn't actually wrong. No one makes it passed two years and before I ever start dating them I do have a very, very, very...very, very...long list of why I wouldn't date them. There was one exception in the middle of all that mess, but eventually he didn't want me. I'm not sure if it was his fault. It seemed all good, but an ex-boyfriend--crazy as a friggin loon--kept prodding him. I'm not sure I can take the blame either. But it doesn't matter. He didn't want to deal with it and the way I see it now is if I was that important he would've been there for me.
So then now my friend's observations--excepting that one who dropped me--are pretty much spot on. Of course, he didn't help. I lost all my confidence that anyone would want me. I am so broken. I made it easier on myself. Choose ones that would be lucky to have me...that would be easy to lose. Ideally with a long list of things wrong with them. This is not actually hard to find. It's so easy--it's disturbing in its own right. But my friend is right. I don't need to be doing that to myself. It's not that I don't have a type, she pointed out. It's that I refuse to date "my type".
I refuse to date "my type" because I'm terrified of being rejected and "my type" is so rare I have a better chance of getting hit by a bus. Not that I haven't met a couple of "my type" but they totally freak me out, even now. I'm excited and then I'm terrified. And being terrified doesn't work well with PTSD. Duh. What terrifies me? They won't want me. The terror is very, very helpful at that point (feel the sarcasm). I know this, but I rarely, even medicated, can keep it even keel. It overwhelms me. I'm afraid. I become needy, a dipshit, barely functioning. I need to be protected at that point and that doesn't happen. Even with those that are not "my type" that I've dated--that vulnerability can become a liability. The ones that I wouldn't date normally take advantage of it or just completely don't get it and the ones that I would be involved with. Well, I just haven't put myself in the position to find out what they do. I freak out and they drop me. I might not even describe it as freaking out. It's kind of like I know it's right but I. Well, I don't know. I don't like to feel needy. Don't get me wrong. I need someone to make me feel safe. I need to feel protected. When I feel vulnerable, at risk, I'm out. I'm not waiting to feel protected; I'm running like a scared doe for the deepest recesses of my safe zone.
My safe zone--my friends, my boys, hell, even the dog. No judgement, no rejection, no risk. They have proven themselves over and over. A year of that and then I'm ready to start with the next guy that I wouldn't date normally or ever or whatever. Depends on the guy but the list is usually long no matter who he is.
Thus why my friend said "no more". Only I'm pretty sure I can't do "no more". The guys I would actually date don't want me. It's not that I don't want them or need them. I recognize it pretty quickly since it's so friggin rare. It's just that I'm going to freak the f*** out and be terrified, unprotected and completely un-functional. Needing someone is scary as hell. And when I want someone, genuinely, I need them. I know "my type" and I don't want to be rejected by someone I need. So I just fall back on the things that work with PTSD. React big and retreat fast. I know it's pathetic. And I'm a survivor that for the most part is thriving. Just not this aspect of my life. I'd tell you that I have figured out how to get passed this. But I barely can stand losing anyone (dying) anymore. It breaks me for a little while. And when I'm the most vulnerable is when I'm the least desirable apparently. Or maybe I just choose that. Hell, like I said at the beginning of this blog, I don't have this aspect of my life even remotely right. I'm my own worst enemy.
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