There is something wrong with me

Yes, I think there is something really wrong with me.  I watch this extreme porn that is degrading and humiliating to women.  It's the only kind I like.  I want to see the women hurt, extremely.  That is not good.  I don't think it's good.

I would like to be touched.  Hugged, cuddled, loved.  I would even love to have sex.  But I can't.  For a few reasons.  The main one right now is that I am terrified of men.  Strike that.  I am terrified of people.   And you sort of have to hang out with people before they will touch you.  People scare the shit out of me.

Except of course for my infatuation flavor of whatever day it is.  I mean, it's still sort of F, but since I no longer see him or live in his town, then I'm not gonna be doing much with him, am I?  Even if it's mooning over him.

I saw this amazing video that deconstructs what is going on with the characters Laura and Paul from "In Treatment".  I've seen this video before on youtube, but was watching it mainly because I love that storyline.  Come on, it's about a chick who is in love with her shrink.  What else am I going to be interested in, right? 

Here're the links, there are actually two awesome ones:    In Treatment: Laura testing Paul  and   In Treatment: Understanding Laura

Anyway, this therapist takes apart what Laura is doing, and it is exactly the same shit I pull all the time.  But it doesn't say she is bad or gross or that it's "her fault".  In fact, it sort of lambasts Paul and his crappy therapy.  Paul doesn't handle her testing well at all.  And he lets her down.

One thing this therapist states is that Laura was most probably sexually abused, probably by her father.  That doesn't turn out to be true later in the show, but we do learn she had an affair when she was 16 with a much older man.  I guess I should not call it an affair.  I guess I should say she was taken advantage of.  I should say she was abused.  Anyway, I sort of did that.  Or at least I tried. 

See the difference between Laura and me is that I never follow through with my guys.  Or they never follow through with me.  I needed someone to take a little more overt action because I was scared to death and didn't know what to do.  But if I had known what to do, I would have done it.  I was waiting for them to touch me first, and they never did.

I guess I am writing about Uncle Kevin.  And yes, he's my uncle by marriage to my mom's sister.  Not actually blood related to me.  But I had a huge crush on him when I was a teenager that blossomed into an even huger crush when I visited them when I was 20, just turning 21.

All this stuff with F, it falls right in line with what went on with Kevin.  It's the same damn pattern over and over, and it never gets satisfied.  I never actually have an affair with these men, I just pine and pine and pine and hurt over them and never do anything.  And feel guilty for even liking them in the first place because they are so inappropriate for me. 

Mental Health and a Cute Boy

OK, I'm just back from a night on the town with G and Brian. We went to an art show, and it was pretty cool.

Then G walked up and talked to purple shirt guy. Purple had been looking my way all night, after we had a (very) brief chat about a painting. I said, "I like it, but then I don't". He overheard me, and said "yes, I agree". We then said about 2 more sentences to each other and I got shy and walked away. Thinking he was a weirdo.

So yeah, G winds up talking to him later. And asks him if he wants to go to The Cellar with us. And he says yes! At this point I'm digging him. He's quiet, and seems smart. With really gorgeous curly hair and eyes. Sort of like an older Nick Jonas. I will never tell him that. Because we are going to date and have a love affair. I've decided.

Man, I'm tired. Got to go drink more, because this will be the last time for a while. Maybe I can make out with Dara tomorrow night. Yum.

Purple shirt is a Master's in Counseling by the way. Is that not perfect. He works at the Crisis Stabilization Unit at *****. Ha, ha, ha. Seriously. He may have been there when I was tackled to the ground and shot full of Haldol. Funny. I don't know when or if I should ever tell him that.

OK, time to make a drink.

First, must again reiterate that I want to fuck the pants off of F. Why must he be so nice to me? He really just has to say he is not interested and it will help. Just say, "I think you are ugly and I would never sleep with you or find you interesting." That's what I need to hear so I can kill off this longing. F, please.

They tried to make me go to Rehab

So, here I am at work with 15 minutes left of my day, and I’m saying fuck it and am writing here. 

So F called me back today, with his same familiar tone of voice and style.  Ugh.  I hate him for being so cute. 

So.   Jan wants me to go to rehab.  I ask F if he agrees.   Independently of Jan.  He says yes.   Laughing and joking with me, but still, yes.

I guess I want to go.  I guess I do.  I have to figure out if I am going to turn in my damn paper for Surface Hydrology or just let it go.   I want to let it go, but don’t want a C+.   Fuck.  I guess this will be my last weekend free.  I guess.  

I have to tell my mom.  I don’t want to.  But I have to, because she has to take care of the Bai.  Maybe I can get someone else to take care of him?  Maybe Chris?  I have to call him.  I don’t want my mom to do it; I want to be as unattached as possible to her.   She will not be watching Bai. 

OK, 5:00, gotta go.

OK, I'm gonna do it. Talk about it, I mean. Not "do it."

OK, so I see him tomorrow for my second session this week.  And I've decided I'm going to do it.  I'm going to tell him about how I feel.  I don't know why, it probably isn't necessary, but I'm doing it anyway.  I don't care.

Or I have too many reasons, and don't know which is the most motivating:

• This lust is driving me crazy.
• When I left last time I wanted to go and drink, I was sooooooo keyed up.
• Maybe he'll sleep with me :)
• Maybe he'll drop me so he can date me and sleep with me later.
• It'll be fun to talk about- It'll be the closest I'll ever come to doing it with him.
• Yeah, that's def part of it, it'll be tantalizing and sexual to talk about
• I can wear a skirt tomorrow and not look weird because of my cast.  Which gives easy access to showing him my cuts.  Which are on my very upper thigh.  Which then will give him a glimpse of my super hot new underwear I bought for the occasion.  This would be extremely trashy and gross to do, so I will not do it (probably).  But damn, it's good masturbatory fodder.

I wonder if he would get hot knowing I get hot about him.  Man do I get hot for him.  I hate it.  I'm sick of it.

I just want to date someone hot and have sex with them.  Now.

But unfortunately Dr. F is hot.  And smart.  And a smart-ass.  And educated.  And accomplished.  And arrogant.  And fucked up.  All the things that are attractive to me.  He even has diametrically opposed political views to me, which also gets me hot. UGH.  I hate this, I really do.

I think I've finally gotten the courage to do this because I have a therapist.  So I have her to go to tomorrow to talk about it.  So if F freaks and drops me or is mean to me or whatever, I have her to go to and lick my wounds.

OK, need to try to go back to sleep.  Gotta look rested and beautiful for tomorrow :)

PS  Have begun talking to hot chick on OKCupid.  Maybe I can get it on with her.  There are no hot guys on OKCupid.  They are all arrogant and gross.

Therapist #2 and her views on F

So now onto the therapist I saw today. She's the good old regular talk therapy style, which is what I want (I hope it's what I need).

We talked a while, and she listened. She seems smart. She was def doing that whole being a blank slate/mirror thing, because I didn't get much of a judgmental or emotional response from her. WHICH IS GOOD. That is what I'm supposed to be getting from Dr. F.

So I didn't tell her everything, I wanted to leave time at the end so that I could talk about Dr. F. Sad and pitiful, but true. If I don't talk to someone about this (other than bf, whom btw is no longer my bf, more on that later) my brain is going to explode.

And Ralph on justanswer.com just told me to get rid of him. Yeah, that's what I should do, but it's not what I wanna do.

So therapist #2, let's call her Jan, listens to me about F. And she doesn't react much, I realize now that I expected her to get outraged like Ralph on justanswer.com. But she said it's normal for me to be infatuated with him. And that sometimes therapists choose to share things for therapeutic reasons. There was a word for it but I forgot what it was.

I was nonplussed. I asked her if he was flirting with me, if not, wtf was he doing?  She said she didn't know. So actually it was a pretty limp conversation, but it helped. Just talking about it helps.

For the past few weeks I have been preparing to conquer this guy and really and truly try to somehow finagle him into sleeping with me. And hey, if he jumped me now, I'd do him.

But maybe I wouldn't. I sort of like him as a person, I think. What I know of him I like. And I don't want him to ruin his career/life. (But hey, if he's fucking other clients, then I wouldn't mind. It wouldn't be my fault then :-))

So yeah. I think I'm slightly over him? God I hope so. I've been wavering with the thought of just telling him everything on Monday when I see him. I would tell him that I'm confused with his self-disclosure. I like it very much, but it is confusing me. Does it mean he likes me?

"Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me. Aren't you?" Stick Dr. F in there and that's me. That's how I feel.


And if you aren't flirting with me, you are breaking my heart. You are toying with someone who isn't in the greatest place right now, and you should stop it. STOP IT. But maybe he doesn't even know what he's doing, and I'm a dolt for thinking it means anything. I'll tell him all this and he'll be like "that was not my intention at all. I don't like you, you are my patient, and whatever you read into this was all your transference blah, blah."

Ugggghhhhhhh. Fuck it, I know when a dude is somewhat flirting with me. And unless he's an idiot, he should know that I'm flirting hard back.

He's made his Facebook page private. Smart man.

Let it Begin

Alright, here goes. My first page of my first blog. I'm starting this for myself, as I seem to write more on the computer (on Facebook) than I ever do in my physical paper journal.

So, I think, let's do the blog thing instead of a journal, maybe I can get some of the confusion and vitriol out this way.

Bad grammar, bad attitude. Maybe that's what I should call this blog. We'll see.

So, it's titled Let it Begin. But really it should be, Where to Begin.


I am starting this to get through my feelings about my doctor. No, I am never going to say his name. I am never going to say where he works, where I work, what town we're in, or any other leading clues. I'm not here to destroy him or get him in trouble. And he wouldn't anyway as he hasn't done anything to get himself into trouble.  And probably never will.

But, I do have to come up with a name for him for the blog. Let's see, what'll it be. How about F. Just F. F as in infatuation. Ha, yes I know that it doesn't start with F, but it recalls the sound. So F.

F is my psychiatrist. I am in love with him. Or I am in lust with him. If we want to get clinical, I am suffering one whopping case of transference. And I'm hoping he's got some counter-transference going on.

I'm such a dweeb that I want F to read this and know. But he won't because, well because.

I tried to add him on Facebook. How ridiculous. I am not a teenage girl by the way. I just act like one and try to add my shrink on Facebook. He's not accepted me. Whah. Not really. See, we have more of a chance of doing something if he doesn't add me. No paper trail. Digital trail. Whatever.

So, he's thinking ahead to the day he's going to fuck me. Isn't that smart.  Ha.

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I just went and retracted my friend request. Now I won't look so stupid. Although we already talked about it. Whatever.