Sunday, July 28, 2013

I'm scared of relationships.
I don't know what I am doing here. I am terrified of where this might go, and yet terrified that it won't go anywhere. I liked V at first, and now I am wondering if that is still there. I need space from him. He is no longer new and shiny, and this relationship has already dragged out for 2 1/2 weeks and I feel like whatever I once felt is somehow missing. I am floundering, grasping for those initial feelings. I hate being lost but I seem to have been born without a sense of direction.
I am turning into a germ freak again. I want to avoid it but every thought and occasion brings up more reasons to fear the floor that I walk on, the people I touch, and even the very air that I breathe has been contaminated in some way. I want to hole up somewhere safe and untouched by the unkind things of the world.
Every touch feels dirty and wrong. Every kiss feels uncomfortable. His gaze makes me want to be alone. His caresses feel like gropes. It has nothing whatsoever to do with him this time. I know that. He has never done wrong by me. He has never, nor will he ever hurt me in that way.
I have come to realize that my last relationship with D was abusive. It was sick and wrong and hurt me deeper than I care to admit. All that time, it was rape. It was not making love, nor was it just sex. When he touched me I felt like a whore, like all he wanted was to ravage my body in a way that I was not meant. He was like an animal. I never wanted sex. Never. The entire time, I felt that I needed him in other ways and let him have his way with me otherwise. I remember hating him for always wanting those things. He defined sexual things as sex, and everything else was innocent. I never wanted to touch or be touched. I was willing to please, but not eager to pleasure. I always said no but he would pressure me and press for it until I could no longer say no without making him angry and when he got angry I felt that it was my fault. The first time I did it with him was in the back of a car. I remember the guilt that came afterwards. I remember crying after several of these occasions. I remember feeling as if I had been violated, and not understanding why. I hadn't wanted to say yes. But I did. Technically, since I said yes, and never put my foot down, it could not be considered rape, right?
All of that time I felt dirty and no matter how many times I showered the feeling would not go away. I wanted to scratch all of my skin off, and when that didn't work, I tried to get it off by scalding my entire body with the hottest the shower would go. I would contemplate pouring gasoline over my head and clarifying myself by burning everything off. I didn't care how ugly that made me. I wanted to be ugly so badly. I wanted him to look away from me with disgust for once, instead of eyeing me like a wolf. I was the meat.
Losing all of that weight last winter was a desperate attempt to make me feel better about myself while at the same time, trying to waste away until there was no meat to look at. I wanted to be bony and unappealing, but the fragility of it, the idea of looking the way I felt, I just couldn't get enough of that. It ate me away.
I want to be tiny again, but perhaps that only comes with a feeling of abuse and neglect and I'm not sure it's a good idea to face that again.
All of that is still raw to me and it doesn't seem to be boding well for this new relationship. All the same touches from someone who I know truly cares, seems to hold the same feelings nagging at the back of my mind, no matter how hard I try and ignore them. I think I am over 160 again and it's killing me.
My family left on Thursday. They are now in another state. They are gone. My mom didn't want to spend any money with a storage space like she'd said before to comfort me, so I picked what could stay and sent the rest with them. I feel really alone. I feel abandoned.
I think what I am feeling can be defined simply, as fear. I am scared right now.

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