Fair warning, this will likely be some jumbled up word vomit. I have some stuff to process, and writing it down helps. Also trigger warnings for anxiety, depression, and probably some abandonment issues.
Things with B have been wonderful. I adore him, he knows it, I’m not subtle. Our last visit was at a gorgeous little lakehouse, the bedroom had a view of the water. When we fucked that morning we took turns to be on top so that we could simultaneously enjoy the sight of each other and the scenery. Just glorious. Blissful. My heart soared.
I have a tendency to be overwhelming. This is a fact. Especially when I really like somebody and I want them to like me. I can be clingy, and needy, and bombard them with communication. I am a person of words, and even when I want to shut up there are times when I just can’t.
B has been very clear from the start that he isn’t in a place to offer anything committed right now. Absolutely understand and respect that. Conversely, I totally want all of that with him. I try extremely hard not to apply that pressure. I can wait. I will wait. I want him to be a part of my life.
Recently I have been struggling with my mental health. It’s a perfect storm of multiple antagonistic factors. It’s December, which is always hard. The days are shorter, Christmas is stressful, life is busy. This year is particularly challenging because while I miss my family in England terribly, I am also dreading the trip I am making there next week. Staying with my mother while she constantly talks about her recent weight loss surgery is not an experience I will relish. I’m worried about being away from my dogs. I’m stressed at work. My hormones are playing havoc with my serotonin levels. All of this added up to some pretty intense anxiety and depression that manifested itself as one pervasive thought: B doesn’t like me anymore.
Which then spiraled into coming up with a hundred reasons why he doesn’t like me. All of which are my own flaws, obviously.
Here’s a (by no means exhaustive) list of reasons I invented to explain a problem that possibly didn’t exist:
- I’m too much
- I’m not enough
- He met someone else and likes her more and she lives closer and she’s better at sex and she doesn’t have any hairs on her chin and her nipples face forwards and not down
- My legs were stubbly last time we fucked and now he knows I am not smooth like a newborn dolphin at all times
- I have that bump on my butthole and he thinks I’m a monster
- I’m boring and stupid and I did a good job of hiding it at first but he’s figured it out now
- I ask too much of him, or offer too much of myself, or both
And on and on and on.
Isn’t anxiety fun?! Fortunately, B is an amazing human who always responds well to open and honest communication. Even when it’s anxious, tearful drivel. So I wrote him a long text message, explaining that I’m struggling and that I think he doesn’t like me and asking if he would please tell me if I’m right about that or not. Then I sent that message to two of my best friends to ask if it was OK for me to send it to him. Because obviously my brain is untrustworthy at present.
I had just decided that I was going to send it, when my phone rang. It was B. And then all of the words tumbled out of me while I held back tears and apologized for being the way that I am.
Predictably, he was wonderful. He reassured me that he does like me. So much so that it’s a source of stress (I need to remember to ask him what that means when my brain is being less of a fucking prick). However, he also said that he wants us to slow things down – for multiple, completely valid reasons. That was challenging to hear but I understand it. I respect it. My abandonment issues wanted to chime in with some unhelpful thoughts but I stomped on that shit. Because he’s not abandoning me at all. He’s doing what he needs to do, for himself, to keep me.
By the end of the call I felt better. He worked hard to give me all of the reassurances he could. He wanted me to be OK. And I am.
If there is one thing I can’t cope with it is poor communication. I am an overthinker, and if I am left to try to read someone’s mind I drive myself to distraction going through all of the various scenarios. B does not do that to me. If I ask him, he will tell me where I stand. Even when it’s difficult. And holy shit that is so much easier to deal with. Knowing that he wants to step back a little is so much better than convincing myself that he hates me. Infinitely so.
So, while I have a little sadness that I won’t get to spend as much time with him as I would like, I have exponentially more joy that he will remain in my life for the foreseeable future. And despite what my anxiety brain is trying to make me believe, he thinks I’m pretty great.
I’ll take it.
Fat and Slutty 