Ogres, are like onions, they have layers. Addicts too. I have (again?) come to the layer were relation, intimacy and sex are SHOUTING AT ME! This post is pretty explicit, so if you are not into reading about sex and intimacy and how I try to figure out this so maniest layer of addiction I would like to propose you don’t read it. It is difficult for me to write about these subjects because I realise there is a lot of shame, denial and loneliness going on here.
It has taken me forever to write about this because I guess I prefer to be in denial about this and also because somehow I am more ashamed of feeling lonely than I am of being addicted/having been addicted. Still don’t know what to call myself. After the last post on the sexually laden (is that correct English?) atmosphere at the job I was all over the place.
Spring walked in and I got my mind on dick. At some moment during the repetitive work I do I realised that I am/was (?) very much ashamed of these overwhelming physical and emotional feelings. Remembering that being ashamed about drinking only made me drink more I wondered what would happen if I were NOT ashamed about having sexual feelings. Whoah! That somehow broke down the dam and more of the same came pooring out. Shiiiiiiiit. Well, again, like with drinking: if I want to learn how it works, get to know me I will need to learn to stay with it and observe it. That was the plan. Did not work out since I got thrown all over the place internally but I guess that was to be expected.
At first the this feelings rushed through my body like crazy, looking for every little corner in every most remote cell. I found myself looking for an ‘object of desire’ frantically. Sorry to have to tell you that there was very little personal about this. It’s like the smoking I used to do: we all sort of think there is this one brand that is truelly ours and then when I ran out of them I would just smoke anything that was available. It is a bit, well, aaarrrr, strange to realise that any dick that was not attached to a repulsive person felt ok in my mind. Sort of anybody who is not arsehole would do. Lucky me this sex thing involves 2 people and consent and ha, it was worktime so there was restraint required. Nice and handy to be able to work in my private corner letting things go without having to speak with anybody. 😀
There is however one guy at work, the one who lost boths his parents to murder, who seems to be very, very sensitive to any energy that goes ‘through the air’ but I’m thinking he is only aware of the sexual ones. No matter how much I tried to contain my energy he started eye-fucking me that same day and the next day came up with a proposal where, if I needed any ‘assistance with the sex thing’ he would be happy to provide. 😀 Ghegheghe…. I laughed it off. No matter however much I would like to grab him and drag him to my lair. His girlfriend has the same name as I do so I asked if I were to be Feeling 2.0 then. Serves him right. 😀 I mention the murder btw because I think it has made him extra sensitive for picking up energy. I’m thinking this changes a persons boundaries and vulnerabilities.
However, from that moment onwards the thought of he and I was like whoa!!!! racing through my mind and body. Again, back to the: let’s observe this, not judge, not try to push away. Go through it like the boy in the vid. All in all I’m guessing the not pushing away did not really work because my skin rash is getting worse. Funny thing, synchronicity working again: I picked up this old herb book and it said: urticaria (hives / nettle rash) is caused by suppressed sexual feelings; take Belladonna. The homeopathic stuff obviously, not the herb. The herb is deadly. It worked, for 2 days I got my mind and body sorted out and then I forgot to take it and was right back into this overwhelming sea of sexual feelings.
This has been going on, well on and off for several days now. It is funny how this works. Outwardly things don’t change. I know very well how to not act ‘excited’ and how to keep my cool and not react in a sexually interested way without offending anybody who is sending vibes and commenting. That is something I had to learn unfortunately. I learned at a very early age that I get in trouble if guys send vibes and I don’t react. The thing to safety is to get raped only a little by allowing them to verbally harass me because ‘they are paying me a compliment’. Thing is I can’t really always live with that and lash out because the truth is that they are not paying compliments, they are harrassing me. The guys at work, all but 2 of them mean well. And of that 2 I am not really, really afraid anymore. But it did take some down tuning of my position, some subversion (is that the word) to get of their radar.
The above paragraph shows some real fucked up thinking. I am not sure if this is how it works. Thing is, in my mind it is true and always has been. I relate freedom to rape and subversion to safety which makes me REALLY REALLY angry. And sad now.
Inwardly things were in a turmoil and that does send vibes; I have 2 fifty plus collegues, one almost sixty. They are Asian so usually they are very, very composed. Lately they start making all kinds of sex jokes and they have decided that some collegue of mine and I fit together very well. They are fantasising about the wedding and they asked him if he likes me. The fact that he said ‘No’ OBVIOUSLY is the proof that he DOES like me. :-)))))) That kind of thinking leaves me with nothing to say: highschool all over again. I tell them not to get their hopes up because he is or I are not interested and they smile their polite, sweet, hopeful smiles and say “Do not worry, you wait, there is time.”
From that, well day onwards I’m hoping however that he does like me but realise it is sex-drive fucking me up. He however knows my faults too well and is very apt at listing them; thinks too much, way to critical, control issues, doesn’t know what is good for her, is not focussed, unable to run her own life, arrogant and also: very impressed how you have left all that stuff like smoking and drinking behind. I overheard him say that he will never ever start a relation at the workfloor again. Ooh, by the way; everybody has been saying that he likes me since the beginning. I never took that seriously until I fell in lust with him the other day. 😦 Explosive situation: suddenly my treacherous mind jumps to the conclusion that we MUST make a PERFECT match. If only: he would stop smoking and smoking pot and blablablablabla. Ooh yeah, ex alco and current pot smoker, although he told me a week ago he was quitting. I gave him the link to the online desensitization program and a get well gift in the form of the book of the Alchemist by Paolo Coelho. Why? Dunno. Felt appropriate and I had 2 of them. Dunno. Lust driven.
The other day a friend of mine came over at work. She is tall, skinny, very pretty and fashionably dressed. I showed her around and introduced her to the staff. Afterwards one of the nasty guys said “Was that a friend of YOU?!!” I took it that he found the difference very big and almost impossible. Anyway, no matter how he meant it, it hurted. 😦
It is embarrasing to list all of this. I feel so childish and I continuously feel like I have to choose between living in denial about having ‘fallen in love/fallen in lust’. I put this between brackets because I don’t know wether it is about love. I’m thinking it is more about sexual drive and imagined availability. Not so much soulmates (which is I guess something I don’t believe in) but people who happen to be in the same place at the same time. That is different.
Weeks ago, before all of this started somebody joked about him liking me and I joked back “No, he doesn’t!” (Moaningly)
“How come? What happened?”
“Well, I asked him to turn on the radio and he told me to do it myself???! So OBVIOUSLY he does not love me at all. Imagine, having to switch on the radio myself! :-(”
At which he replied: “Hey hey hey, I never loved you! Well, of course I love you as a collegue but nothing more than that!”
At which I said: “You see?!! Told ya!”
This left my collegue looking totally surprised because she and my boss had been making jokes about him and I continuously and I’m guessing they did/do (?) feel that there is something there. So I replied: “Shall we run that by you again so you can tape it for the boss? We are happy to repeat if that is of any help?”
Again, it is strange to write about this. The whole place is so loaded. The other day my boss was said to be play acting how one of her employees (the one she fancies) likes his women (wife and one night stands!) in bed. Doggy style with her buttocks high in the air, waist tilted and him slapping her gluteous maximus. So there she was: on the table, in a mini skirt, on all fours, slapping her own ass.
This is an edited post. I am already trying to sort this issue out by writing about it for several days. This morning I was sitting at my desk thinking ‘I don’t know what the fuck to do with my life.’ I have finally come to a point where again I can relax after work and do stuff for myself. And I don’t do shit. There is nothing I want apart from reading and writing, eating, sleeping, cleaning and patting the cat. Ooh, and a warm hard, well, you know. Now when re-reading the paragraph above this one I realised that I am EXACTLY where I need to be to deal with what I need to deal with. I need to find a way out of my victimised idea of sex into a healthy idea of it. What is in the way is The Way. (Still need to get that book) Aaah F! Synchronicity making fun of me; there I go searching for Mary O’Malley in an online bookstore, the author of that book and the first titel that shows up is ‘The boning hall’. SIGH!!!! Guessing this is a different Mary, or not, maybe I only know one meaning for the word boning. Dunno.
Ok, guess it is time to deal. Maybe, just maybe I can not really heal sexually if I do not myself get a healthy idea of sex. Ooh, yeah, that was the proposed music for the proposed sex date; ‘Sexual healing by Marvin Gaye’ with the collegue who was ‘offering’ ‘himself’. Ghegheghe…. He’s a little too sensitive to make me feel comfortable.
Hmm, the other day I was thinking that a little denial is a good thing :-D. Ghegheghe, people are so FUCKING WEIRD!!! Sorry for the language, goes with the territory. Imagining walking up to a collegue and say, just out of the blue: “If you are looking for a little action just call on me, we’ll make it a nice evening, put on some music, that Marvin Gaye song…. ” Just because you FEEL they are in the mood. That’s what he did. It is A-MA-ZING to me. And then obviously I laughed and called me Feeling2.0 (because his girlfriend is called Feeling too – well, she has my actual name) Blaahblablaah.
What I did not write about yet is that when I allowed myself to feel and let loose all this sex drive in me I realised that I have been made to feel ashamed about it all my life. As a little girl (like 4 years old) I already knew that my mother wished and needed me to reign in my drive. I have always gotten the impression that she found it and me ‘too much’ and that I was ‘way out of line’ with anything physical. Well, I guess I was an addict already then: no amount of cuddling would ever satisfy me. My mother once told me, at age 30 something that she put a stop to cuddling ‘Just to show me that things can’t last forever!’ and that she regretted that later because she wished she had supplied me with what I as a baby thought/felt I needed. 😦 What I wondered: I feel like with physical needs I am this bottomless pit. Not that I am a nympho, never was in any relationship, but I hardly ever really really experienced the rest I imagine that comes with having ‘had enough’ like I had when I quit drinking. The last night I drank I drank so much and I was sure realise/create this feeling of ‘having had enough’ because I knew I could only then quit. I do experience orgasms obviously, guessing otherwise I would gheghe, not be so inspired about the whole subject – but it is not the most important. What I am looking for in sex is the experience of not being bound to my body, of mixing entities and feelings, for the ‘becoming one’ – not so much ‘in the flesh’ as in the feeling experience. I look for not being worried, for not thinking only feeling.
Pfff, well this is as far as I got: let go of the denial, then realise it there is a lot of guilt involved, then sitting with it an realising that the vibe of sex has a BIG influence on people around – whether I act upon it or not. I feel/felt like this walking time-bomb of lust. Don’t want to explode, don’t want to implode either and I don’t want to surpress because that seems to be bad for the nettle rash. Gheghehgheghe, well, hence the writing. I have also been taking Schuessler salts for/against the rash, thinkin it is working since I have not seen it for 2 days and when I now scratch my arm it does not turn red and thick immediately.
Also, also… on the other side of learning about all of this in order to understand and maybe find a healthy way of working with this. A friend said: “Well, just sublimate the hell out of it!” Ghegheghe, I tried. Not working yet. 😀 Well, again, on the other lighter side of trying to feel and understand there is this bottom dog approach where I try to be prettier. I have been searching for Schuessler salts to make me so :-(. Yeah, feeling ashamed to say that. Things like large pores, resting bitch face, dog ass mouth, drooping eyelids, under eye bags, cellulite, sagging breasts and wrinkles are very much a of lack of nutrients. Replace them timely and the process reverses. I’m thinking that if one starts later the reversal will not be total but I’m trying to sort out what I need now to look prettier. Don’t say looks are genetics: bad uptake of nutrients is also genetical so looks caused by bad uptake too. Yesterday really it really hit me. Specifically after my boss said; “Goddammit, I need a hot, sexy woman in the workplace!!! So you go dye your hair and shape up!” Not sure why, I guess she somehow thinks the guys will work harder if I were to be hot and sexy. Is this a crazy world I live in? Yes, I don’t even realise it anymore until now while writing it down. Well, I played it cool, told her “Don’t wish too hard.” with a serious face, halve grin, no eyes involved as if it were a business advice, which it was actually.
And internally? Internally I cry and feel insecure and I don’t want these comments to get to me. I wanted to tell her to lead by example and I would see if I could follow. But she’s the boss and would, well, obviously take that as an insult. Which is how it is meant obviously. I am starting to wonder if she is actually sane. The boys say she is not. I think she is just overworked and caught up in her powerplay, seeing no normal way of connecting anymore.
Well, getting pretty. I guess that would mean shaving my legs, and my armpits and my nether jungle. I have not been doing so since last autumn because I like it this way. Makes my body feel better. 🙂 It is actually VERY nice to feel the wind move the hair on my legs when I stand on the balcony in my bathrobe. I read this article where they say that native Americans don’t cut or shave so they stay in tune with their feelings. Hair (to them?) seems to be the outside version of nerves. I like that thought so I thought I would give it a try. I am pretty sure my sexual feelings and the way I pick up on the horniness of some of my collegues has to do with that. And, as with the bookstore man at the time he was interested in me, once, long ago, for a few days. It keeps me from thinking I can do stupid things like thinking it is a good idea to take somebody home. Sometimes I think that would be good for me. Most of the times I think I am in no way ready. And then when I feel ready I face myself in the mirror and feel ugly and fat and know that I am, in no way ready. 😦 I hate this destructive living I do here. I like how I try to deal with it, thinking, well, hoping that I am brave. But sometimes the loneliness of it all creeps up on me and I have no clue, no clue what so ever what the heck to do with my life. I feel so lost. So out of place wherever I go. I guess that is what I feel my boss is trying to do to me: to make me feel like I don’t belong. She herself told me that she only hires people who she feels “Have less chance somewhere else and I actually only hired you because you took all the effort of writing a letter as well so I thought you might actually be serious.” I thought it was pretty condecending and pretty narcisistic too when she said that. I just replied with: “Well, you have a very strong team here.”
The other day I spoke with my SIL, she asked me how I dealt with the insults my boss hands out. I told her that from the moment I realised how bad it could get and how badly my boss could hurt me I have decided that I allow myself to quit immediately. Dutch law allows bosses to fire somebody immediately, like right on the spot for cases like theft, grave insult, (sexual) harresment, repeatedly (!!) showing up drunk or under influence after (!) having had a warning and refusing to do work assigned for which one is contracted. To make the situation liveable for me I have decided very early already that I would resign on the spot and walk out if I thought I could not deal anymore. Ooh yeah, in an idea of ‘equal rights’ Dutch employees have the same rights. So if the boss gravely insults somebody they may walk out immediately. Not sure if they are then entitled to benefits though. Don’t care. I can not financially afford that but when the first things started hitting the fan I realised that I needed a back door in order to keep me emotionally safe. This realisation that I can walk out any moment is the back door. My SIL actually seemed to understand. I was happy about that. 🙂
Wanting to go back to what I learned. I learned that sexual drive is big and overwhelming in me. That eventhough I do not act upon it it still influences people around me who are sensitive to it. I guess I have always known that. And I need to learn to understand that but the guilt I feel over it keeps me from doing so. What would a woman who loves herself do? She would let go of the guilt and enjoy the liveliness of it all, not bother about her weight, bodily hair or looks unless she would feel better with changing them.
I am happy that I quit. Gosh, imagine me in this mode and drunk. No, don’t imagine me in this mode and drunk. I AM FUCKING HAPPY THAT I QUIT! Don’t know where the hell my life is going but for now it is off to bed. 🙂
Wishing you a very good day / night and wonderful sober sex! 🙂