Sunday Night Thoughts

This is such a crap blog (I just typoed that as “carp”). I always think about how crappy it is… my posts aren’t thematic or pointed or even on topic beyond “Sunday Night Thoughts.” Wow, Shadow, stunning work, really. I have no idea why people even come here anymore.

DJ wants me to write here for five minutes before bed. Things are rough. The end of the school year is coming, I have three weeks left. I am, according to DJ, exhausted, mentally, emotionally and physically. I am panicking about the uncertainty of my life in the coming year (don’t have a new job lined up, yet) and the spring sunlight is making me more unstable than usual…

So today I decided to find out if I’ve lost IQ points in all the intervening years of drug therapy I’ve been on since they tested me. So, of course, I went and took about thirty online IQ tests – because that is totally rational and logical and *intelligent* isn’t it?

Because I’m totally exhausted I was having a hard time thinking straight (interestingly, my IQ is still averaging out the same score as it used to be despite being exhausted and sleep deprived, I wonder what that means…) I’ve lost faith in IQ tests. I’ve lost faith in all tests. I’ve lost faith in everything. I’m too tired.

I wrote a long article today about gender and “male privilege” and everyone said how I’m so smart… and the whole time I’m thinking… “No, I’m not, it’s a lie, I totally have you all fooled!” just because I can spit back facts and put them in a coherent order. That isn’t “smart” it’s a party trick… But I have everyone fooled with it.

I’m tired of keeping people fooled. It’s an act and it’s tiring. It’s an act to impress people… And people ARE impressed… they think I’m so smart and so funny and so cute and so… everything… but it’s so much work to keep them all believing it. But I need them to believe it or I wont’ have any friends at all… But I get so tired, I just want to crawl in a hole and not even talk to the friends I do have… but if I do that they’ll all give up on me eventually.

Michael left me. He didn’t even say goodbye. And this isn’t one of his leaving for six weeks things, it’s been seven months.

And what hurts even more is Ryan hasn’t made contact in seven months, either. He swore to me (not that swearing means anything in this world, it’s just words, even if you mean them at the moment, that doesn’t mean anything ultimately) he swore to me he’d never abandon me, that we would always be friends no matter what happened with Michael, no matter if Michael forbade him to contact me, he would never abandon me.

He didn’t say goodbye, either.

I feel like such a loser for still caring, seven months later. I should have moved on by now. I tried. I put up with L for a few weeks, but his racist bullshit and using me for sex and his knee jerk defensiveness and… I couldn’t… I couldn’t keep going.

A man I’ll call Tiger, has been talking to me on Fet. He’s nice. He’s a dominant. He’s not a potential anything but a friend but… he’s nice. But it just makes me realize how alone I really am… how much I miss Michael… at least… how much I miss what I let myself believe about Michael and who he was and how he felt about me. I believed him when he said he loved me, I believed him when he said I could trust him, I believed him… and I had lots of reasons not to… I had lots of reasons not to, but I somehow, for once in my life, didn’t listen to the reasons not to and I let myself believe… and I miss believing. Even if I believed in a lie, the moments when I DID believe, it was… safe. I felt loved. I felt I was truly seen and I felt who I truly am was loved.

Of course, it hurts all the worse now to have reality crash down on me. To know it all for lies, to know that the things I felt were illusions… to know that I let myself be seen for who I really am, that I took that risk and let myself feel in those deepest places… and to know it was all a lie. That hurts more than never having loved at all.

I should never have let him in. I should never have let him so close… I told myself in the beginning that there were no guarantees and it is better to risk love and get hurt than to stay safe.

But I didn’t know. I didn’t know what it meant to truly open those doors I had never opened for anyone. And I didn’t know how much damage he could do… And I think now that I might have broken myself forever because I didn’t know what I was risking.

And now seven months later I still can’t put the pieces back together.

I broke myself in ways that will never be unbroken. He broke me in ways that will never be unbroken. I believed him, truly down to the bottom of my heart, more than I’ve believed anyone, ever, when he said that he loved me…

What is wrong with me?

I’ve lived all my life letting people only so close to the core… keeping that last scrap of myself safe – and I’ve had to fight… I’ve had people try to MURDER me and I kept that shred of my core away from them, where they couldn’t reach it…

And stupid, stupid, stupid, me… He was the one I let in. After fighting off murders and rapists… I let him in and he destroyed me.

DJ says I can stop now. He says this is enough. That’s good. I don’t have anything left to offer up in sacrifice on the bloody altar.