sometimes you fall and you don’t get hurt

Sometimes you fall and you don’t get hurt

The last few days have been emotional peaks and valleys, concentrated on being present and the lessons to be learned.  I fluctuated between panic and anxiety and reaching little plateaus of solution. 

My mind is a trap of quicksand.  My initial affection for date#16 has begun to slope slowly toward feelings of insecurity and obsession.  I began to doubt his liking me after the third time we slept together.  Ever since I was 13 years old, about the age when I started to kiss boys, I have struggled with an overwhelming sensation that my affections are not, or will not be adequately reciprocated by the individual I have deemed “the one”.   While a little bit of hesitation at the beginning of a new relationship is to be expected, my fears turn into an obsession that consumes my every thought and prevents me from being present in my actual life.  When I was younger, it would stop me from doing anything for myself and I would be completely pre-occupied by only wanting to spend time with the person of my affections.  I neglected chores, homework, school, work, any activity I had planned with friends.  My desire for attention and affection was insatiable.  My actions would reflect this attitude and I would become needy, clingy and helpless. By doing so, I attracted men and women with leaky boundaries.  Someone who would allow me to latch on to them and suck them of any independence or interest in maintaining their own identities at the hands of my manipulation.  Inevitably this dynamic became uncomfortable for them and they would have to start retaliating, usually by blocking out my affection or retracting emotionally and physically.  Which of course made me want to attach even more. I was looking for a fix not a companion. So over the next 15 years I learned how to repress the actual outward behavior which had become too shameful and so obviously unproductive.  I developed an equally unhealthy new coping skill, to make up fantasies of how I believe the other person feels about me so that I won’t have to face the inevitable disappointment of them walking away.  

My solution to rejection was to be in denial.  It begins with an innocent attraction, but soon I preemptively assume that they don’t like me and I become self conscious and shy. In defense, instead of accepting my hunch I make up fantasies of how little gestures, signs from the universe and uncanny coincidences prove the contrary, which of course has no basis in reality and is completely fabricated in my mind.  When David said he did’t feel the same way about me I said I didn’t believe him.   If I string the fantasy along, I never have to deal with the reality of rejection.  These stories are intended to give me hope that they do like me after all, regardless of all evidence to the contrary.

Sunday:

I can’t believe it. Deep breath.  How did this happen?  How did I become so all consumed by making up stories about how I think things are, or how I think they should be?  It’s humbling to say the least.  Digging deeper, deeper and deeper.  My mind is playing tricks on me.  The line that separates reality from fantasy is blurring so quickly that I am losing all sight of it.  I am starting to panic.  I rifle through my mind to see what I can possibly do to relieve this anxiety.  I believe we are meant to be together.

I really hate to admit that.  I have surrendered to the fact that I cannot change him.  I can not fulfill the fantasy of us “being happy together”  by hoping that someday, he finds meaning in more stable work, releases his codependency with his ex-girlfriend, or that he will one day find the benefit of using soap.  So I ask myself,  Isn't there a way I can be sane and maintain a connection to him also?  I don’t know. Right now I am falling vicim to obsessive thinking and anxiety concerning him and his reciprocated affection.  If only I could cure my obsessive compulsive nature.  It is something that I have struggled for a long time.  I guess the solution is to tell him my fears.  To come back to earth and make him real again.  This is not about him.  This is about me. 

Some people consider this overanalyzing a form of torture in itself.  The reason I brainstorm different solutions is because I am trying to fulfill my main goal of a peaceful and tranquil existence, full of light and love as well as helping others heal.  I would like to do this consciously.  I would like to live as a spiritual being in my human body.  I find it interesting that if I am really paying attention, there are opportunities for healing all around me.  

On Sunday I took Lucy to the boardwalk.  We waited in line to go on her favorite ride the Cave Train.  The ride takes you on a magical journey through a day in the life of a Neanderthal on a bad acid trip.  The cave figures are covered in neon accouterments with black lighting.  Loud creepy, funhouse type music blares as you make the rounds through their underground and creepy existence in a train car.  The perfect recipe for a panic attack, in my opinion.  This ride usually conjures up feelings of claustrophobia and extreme discomfort for me but being that is is Lucy’s favorite ride, I have been on it at least 10 times this year already.   While we were waiting in line, thoughts of him were stirring in my mind.  I felt myself tempted to withdraw from him in my head.  I fear being too much, I find absurd solace in believing I should let him do all the work.   I texted date#16 to see if he wanted to come over the following day and bake banana bread and possibly go surfing.  I felt good about it.  Instead of playing conversations in my head about how I want him to be, I can actually make plans to do something with him and then see where that takes us.  Coming back into reality is very helpful.  As soon as I pushed the send button, my obsessive compulsive thinking began spinning around in my head, wondering what he would say and when I would get a response.  

If he really liked me he’d respond right away

but if he responds right away, the how can I maintain 

the facade that I am good enough

anxiety

I feel like I am on the tilt-a-whirl 

I am supposed to be present with Lucy but all I can think about is him

ah relief....he says yes....I feel better.

The cave train arrived and Lucy and I boarded. I had my headphones in and was listening to music.   I put my arm around lucy and as the ride started I closed my eyes.  My eyes were closed right as we entered the cave.  I could feel myself go deeper inside, to get grounded I embraced the fear and my vulnerability. My little pustules of anxiety were brimming, ready to irrupt.  I felt my body being lead through the path of the tracks, and sensed the twists and turns the rumbling underneath my feet.  Yet, I knew I was safe in my car.  I went deeper inside my inner stability and trust in my ability to stay calm.  I knew that eventually I would come out the other side. I knew that eventually we would emerge from that cave into the light of day again. I knew that if I became grounded, I would ride this track through in it’s entirety.  There was a beginning and there was an end.  An obvious metaphor for the obsessive and compulsive thinking I get around date#16.  I must get grounded.  I visualize myself, legs strong, feet rooting down into the earth.  My solution to pangs of anxious sickness? I need to connect to all things real and solid.  

obsessive: feverish, fanatical and is connected to egotistical and self centered

not obsessive: adjusted, balanced, sane, stable, altruistic, humble, modest, reserved, selfless, unpretentious

One of the things I can do is make a list of all of the things that show I possess these non-obessive qualities already:

adjusted - left the life of fast money and work hard at       my job and in school

balanced - I make time for myself to dance, rest, downtime at night write and  I am gentle with myself when it comes to romance. 

sane - looking at my feelings the causes and how I can remedy them and caring about how my feelings affect others

stable - have always provided for lucy, sober, make conscious choices

altruistic - healing others while dancing, being a good listener

humble - talking to the universe, 

modest - ok, so not very modest

reserved -........ .or reserved

selfless - everything I have done for Lucy

Fuck being human is hard.  What a  condition. 

After thinking about it I know what I need to say.

letter I will not send:

Dear Date#16, 

I have feelings, deep rooted, intense feelings, and I have concerns.  I don’t feel safe in fully expressing my feelings, knowing that you are grieving your ex-girl friend.  I have concerns because of your chosen lifestyle.  I am amazingly attracted to you in every way.  Physically, emotionally, intellectually, spiritually.  But the person I want to commit my life to and grow a relationship with needs to have more of their outsides put together as well as the amazing connection we are feeling.  I can’t foresee a painless solution here.  I am torn because already I am thinking I want you to be with only me.  I don’t want to hide or burry those feelings.  I felt it when I saw your eyes narrow, then widen and transmit 1000 pounds of emotion into me in about one second.  I hope I never forget that feeling.  It is definitely to date, the most intense and intimate interaction I have ever had with anyone in my entire life.  The pitfalls of what I may experience if I continue on with you scare me.  I am going to tell you all of this and see what you have to say but I’m pretty sure it will end in some form of good bye.  It’s unfortunate because you would have been a really great friend.  I just can’t handle the anxiety I feel about you experiencing your grief and how our lifestyles are so radically different.  I’d like to put the offer out there to check in in six months and see where you are at but that seems daunting as well.  That kiss on my bed.  The way I felt when you gave me those eyes. I never felt anything like it before.  Such a beautiful soul and human being.  I wish this could last.  I think I would have too much anxiety.  Unless you said you felt the same way.  I cant possibly see how you could make a statement like that right now, but I am also not a mind reader.  I cannot predict what you will say.  I guess the difference now is that I don’t deny my feelings.  I used to suppress the truth in order to stall for time to find ways to manipulate the situation to get what I wanted.  Now I just have to be me.  My tolerance for fear and anxiety is just to low.  I cant bear it.  

me

I’m trying to sleep but I cant.  My heart is breaking.  I read that this is just a symptom of the fantasy, but I’m having a hard time believing that it’s that clinical.  I haven't ever had anyone hold me like that. If I have, it was so long ago and I wasn’t nearly as present as I am now.  I have been lonely for so long, so when he was here it just felt so good.  It was different from mr.ten, completely different. 

I believe in love, I do.  I believe that pain and love go hand in hand, until you find the one.  I can only do what I can do.  I try to love freely and without restraints.  I need that love to comeback to me.  I need it.  I must have it.  It is an essential part of keeping open.  I will give it.  I will freely love, in every way, the one who I can walk my edge with.  I wont just walk my edge, I will dance it.  They must want my love, that is the lesson this week.  I will give this kind of love to those who want it.  It is a very important part of the circle.  It is not only about looking for the person who can give it back to me, but the person who is willing to receive it.  A mind blowing desire to give it and a certain gravity that makes it effortless as well.  These are the kinds of things I over think, overanalyze and obsess over.  To decide how to do this is what life is made of.  This is what art is made of, this is what sweetness is made of.  

Monday Morning:

I woke up this morning feeling a lot less neurotic than I did last night.  I opened my eyes and the most important thing on my mind was my first cup of coffee, not whether he returns my affections.  Next, after that cup (or six),  Lucy and I went for a bike ride on the west cliff and we stopped to watch the surfers.  When I got home I checked my okcupid profile and began searching for any guy who lives in Santa Cruz who surfs.  I think I was padding myself for the inevitable separation that I am convinced is just around the corner.  On that bike ride my mind was a maze. 

Saw him again last night.  So we talked, and we had sex,  and we talked.  The good news is that I feel no closer to making a bad unrealistic decision about where this is going, than I did yesterday.  But, I do feel that I was heard.  I am willingly sighing up for anything that is coming my way. I can’t help what I feel.  I guess on some level I believe that we will work out.  As foolish as that may seem at this juncture.  But he said that he could feel it too.  What I saw in his eyes.  I wan’t hallucinating.  He said he couldn't imagine not hanging out with me.  I said that I saw myself looking at him for a very long time. I want  prolonged exposure to the soul of my choice.  It was a look of recognition.   

Monday night:

I had sushi with my friend Ikumi, as I was explaining to her how I was going to navigate this situation, my anxiety, and the feelings I was having, I was distracted by two goldfish that were swimming around each other in circles in the huge fish tank next to our table.  They were swimming around in a circle so fast,  you couldn't tell who was chasing who.  She pointed out how these two particular fish seemed more vibrant than the others.  

Later that night, I picked him up:

He got in the car.  He told me he had been with her.  I held it.  “I think Im too old for this” I said. He said he was to old for it too.  I felt my legs, give out even though I was sitting down.  “Can we listen to music really loud on the way home? and not talk”, I asked. “Oh god yes please” he said.  I began driving.  I focussed on the road and had both hands on the steering wheel, blankly staring straight ahead out into the darkness.  I was still.  I was careful to take the winding turns out of there slow and steady.  I was glad we couldn’t see each other.  I felt those deep bass drops in the music enter my body and flush my soul.  I felt his pain and I felt mine.  I was becoming smaller, but not shrinking, just very concentrated.  I kept my eyes on the road and let the music take us out of our heads and into our bodies.  The steady rhythm sank me deeper into a place of meditation and I took a number of deep breaths.  I kept my hands to myself.  I pulled into my parking spot and, I asked him what he wanted to do.  He said he didn’t know, his head was swimming.  My empathy was heightened and I was tuned into what he needed.  

“Do you want me to give you a massage”, I asked. 

“Yes.  Are you an angel?

 “Yes”, I replied.  

We went upstairs and I adjusted the lights.  I told him to lay down.  He asked me how I got so nice.  I told him “I was beaten into it.  I know what it feels like to suffer, I have been beaten into compassion”.  I wanted to give, not receive.  I wanted to give him kindness because he needed it.  I care about him and right there in that moment he needed to be loved, cared for and supported.  I consciously massaged him.  I was available to support him experiencing his feelings and be a witness to his transformation, as he grieves his changed life circumstances.  I rubbed his feet, his head, his whole body, bit by bit like a real masseur.  I covered the parts that were resting with a soft grey blanket.  In hind sight, touching him in that way helped me move through a significant amount of grief as well.  I finished by burning sage and wafting the clearing smoke over his softened, warm hearted body.   He looked at me.  It happened again, while his blue ocean eyes stared back at me.  Our eyes met and softly locked, like a door knob turns to hitch the latch.  We held the gaze, it was intense but it felt so good.   It’s like when the lens is shifted during an eye exam and everything becomes clear, except this shift made me feel as if 40 years had gone by, and I was still looking into his eyes.  

I am learning how to get grounded.  Every time I feel a little pang of anxiety come up, I close my eyes take a deep breath and imagine my feet rooting into the ground.  As I exhale I imagine all of my anxiety leaving through my feet and allowing me more capacity for love, forgiveness and detachment from obsessive compulsive thinking.  

Tuesday afternoon:

At this moment I am thinking 52weeks52dates is the stupidest thing I have ever done, setting myself up on purpose no less, over and over and over.  

I called Ikumi.  I was crying, I told her that I could’t very well live like this.  I knew the truth.  I knew that he was not over his ex and I knew that he was not going to magically drop his grief.  I must have told her I was sad at least 10 times in between sobs.  There were certain things about him that I just couldn't imagine letting go of.  Sure some of the things were on the outside, but most of what I like about him is on the inside.  I liked the way he talked.  I got an incoming call and told Ikumi I had to go.  

It was him. I answered.  I needed to tell him how I was feeling.  I spoke gently and came from a place of humble expression.  “I had a really difficult day, today was filled with anxiety.  I like you too much, I just can’t live like this.”  I explained that I felt that he was still so enmeshed with his ex-girl friend and I wasn’t willing to participate in that.  He was silent.  I got the feeling he was disappointed.  Then what I said next I can only attribute to perhaps to gaining courage through osmosis by watching a big wave surfer on youtube, earlier that morning.  I told him if he was willing to let her go, I’d be willing to continue on with him.  I asked him how he felt about what I had just said.  He said “I don’t know” and I believed him.  I said that I understood that saying “I don’t know” was the best he could do right now.  “I don’t know, is the best I can do right now, but in a little bit of time I can do better.” he said.  I told him that is what I like about him, I like the way he talks, I really don’t want to let that go.  I explained that when I started this project (and well into the process of it writing as well), I wasn’t expecting to like anybody let alone like anyone as much as I liked him. I acknowledged, he was in a challenging place.  I have been there.  I asked him if there was a day that we could revisit this conversation.  He suggested Friday.  We made a plan to hang out on Friday and talk about it.  He is unique.  He is real.  He can use the word feeling in a sentence.  

So as I sit here and wait, I go back and forth between the left and right side of my brain.  I know I truly want to explore with this man further, and it is not solely up to me.  I am ready to face my life.  I am ready to look intimacy in the eyes and truly embrace the person who is looking back at me.