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[I don't imagine anyone will actually read this ... I'm just going off right now. Maybe I'll land on a point.]

I don't understand.

I just keep closing down. I don't talk to anyone, not about anything deep and personal. I don't even write anymore. Used to keep journals -- mostly incoherent, self-indulgent, stuff I half-hoped somebody would find after I'd died so they could try to put the pieces together.

I have so much going for me. But I can't seem able to get my shit together. Inside.

I'm trying to get past the defeatism, the anger, the resentment. The smallness. I never wanted a personality before -- I didn't want to have anything to lose. I don't know if I was just fooling myself before: but I know I want more now.

It's all still foggy. But I begin to perceive shape in the gloom. It all centers on Nathan. I've been obsessively fixated on him for five years. I just saw these pics of him on his MySpace page, he in his underwear. He looked proud, sexy, complex, fun. But where once I would have swooned or something, or told myself, "oh I just think it's cute I'm not obsessing", I recognize the fact I'm even thinking about it all ...

Look, he's hot. I know this is frustration. But you know what's not happening? I'm not thinking about wanting him. You know? He's just this person who sometimes amazes me, but I wasn't attached to him in the photos like I would have expected. I wasn't even thrilled or anything, right?

But they proved a trigger.

But then I seem to me at a low point right now, somehow. A few days ago, we were watching Damages, third season, and a character commits suicide by xxx. According to the physician character who helped him do it, xxxx I was at the PC at the time ... Instantly, I was looking up how to lay my hands on xxx, and investigating the truth of his claims.

This is not a pining problem. I'm obsessed, but I'm not wishing I was with him, or even wishing I was fucking him -- though no man who meets him and respects his own penis doesn't want to fuck him. This is just a self-esteem problem, a problem of confidence, imagination. A lack of definition, and also a lack of balls, and an obsessive love of self-flagellation rather more powerful yet than my lust for the boy.

As you can probably tell, I've been tail-spinning, and pressure has been building up inside. I don't know if this is any actual good, but I don't feel like I'm about to explode this very minute. I'm not thinking about jumping from a bridge. (I live near one, and the undertow here is ferocious)

Glad this place is here.
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From what I can understand, I think I have had reactions when I was attracted to someone which felt 'crazy making', and I did not know what to do with them, and how to include them in what I understood myself to be...it took me time and work to figure out what I wanted in relationships that was being expressed in that conflict...J
Thanks for the reply, Sadeyes. Nice not to be alone out here. Also, sorry for being all over the place.

I don't know why I don't want to get over this -- this is lame. I want to be lame? What sense does that make?


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it makes complete sense. we want what we cant have even more!!! so much so it can drive us crazy.
im wishing you well and hope you can find some focus and peace.
take care!!!
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