06-30-2021, 07:53 PM
Day 39
Second day off.
The terror that I feel about the passage of time kicks in when dating, since in the dominant social paradigm women are looking for commitment, and thinking about commitment brings up that terror. So during the pandemic I thought about connecting to the poly/ENM community as a way to try to find connection but avoid that terror. I found such a community locally and joined in on their digital meetups.
The group was hosting an in-person party today, and I was both looking forward to and feeling anxiety about it. Looking forward to it as an opportunity, and feeling anxiety about how it would go.
There was one table in the back with a spinning wheel, where you were supposed to go with a second person, spin the wheel, and share something based on what color came up. I ran into a guy at the party who was someone who recognized me from the past, who I honestly only vaguely remembered his face but felt embarrassed that I couldn’t remember his name. We went to the table and spun the wheel, and what came up was to share a story. Nothing embarrassing, just a story.
And I couldn’t. My brain came to a halt, I entered a panic state, was barely able to apologize, and then sat for ten minutes while my brain slowly started functioning again.
After that, it was basically like the old days when I would go to a bar. I held a drink (in this case water, usually a diet coke), and wandered around. I tried to keep a smile on my face, but the self-hatred pain was roiling underneath. I felt utterly disconnected from everyone there, looking around trying to catch the eyes of a girl, and failing. About once an hour a guy would try to make small talk with me, but the freeze instinct would kick in, and I’d be somewhat able to hold the conversation, and then the convo would die no more than two minutes in.
And that’s it. An opportunity that only comes by every few months is gone. The self-hatred pain is burning and the instinct to shove a knife into my palm to feel even more excruciating pain is more prominent than it’s been in months. I’m feeling intense grief as my days fly by without me being able to do anything with them.
I’m very very tempted to try the hybrid tracks tomorrow, maybe two loops. I need something, anything, to get my life to start unfolding differently.
Second day off.
The terror that I feel about the passage of time kicks in when dating, since in the dominant social paradigm women are looking for commitment, and thinking about commitment brings up that terror. So during the pandemic I thought about connecting to the poly/ENM community as a way to try to find connection but avoid that terror. I found such a community locally and joined in on their digital meetups.
The group was hosting an in-person party today, and I was both looking forward to and feeling anxiety about it. Looking forward to it as an opportunity, and feeling anxiety about how it would go.
There was one table in the back with a spinning wheel, where you were supposed to go with a second person, spin the wheel, and share something based on what color came up. I ran into a guy at the party who was someone who recognized me from the past, who I honestly only vaguely remembered his face but felt embarrassed that I couldn’t remember his name. We went to the table and spun the wheel, and what came up was to share a story. Nothing embarrassing, just a story.
And I couldn’t. My brain came to a halt, I entered a panic state, was barely able to apologize, and then sat for ten minutes while my brain slowly started functioning again.
After that, it was basically like the old days when I would go to a bar. I held a drink (in this case water, usually a diet coke), and wandered around. I tried to keep a smile on my face, but the self-hatred pain was roiling underneath. I felt utterly disconnected from everyone there, looking around trying to catch the eyes of a girl, and failing. About once an hour a guy would try to make small talk with me, but the freeze instinct would kick in, and I’d be somewhat able to hold the conversation, and then the convo would die no more than two minutes in.
And that’s it. An opportunity that only comes by every few months is gone. The self-hatred pain is burning and the instinct to shove a knife into my palm to feel even more excruciating pain is more prominent than it’s been in months. I’m feeling intense grief as my days fly by without me being able to do anything with them.
I’m very very tempted to try the hybrid tracks tomorrow, maybe two loops. I need something, anything, to get my life to start unfolding differently.
I share the details of my life in my posts to help in the understanding of the effects of the subliminals I use. I am only open to advice that relates to the use of the subliminals.
