As a first post I assume that I should talk about myself. I am a woman with a vagina. I am pansexual and anxiety ridden. I have struggled with depression and self harm, and family trauma. I have also been in various emotionally abusive romantic relationships, and I somehow find that my love life is always complicated. I'm in college studying art and I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life, but at least my new major doesn't make me feel like a complete failure.
I decided to start writing this diary/journal because I often loose my paper ones. Plus I sort of enjoy being a small anonymous presence on the internet. It makes me feel like I'll leave something behind, or rather that there's proof of my existence.
As of recently I started on a new anxiety medication. My medication makes me slightly angry because I know that the reason I started taking it in the first place is because R (a boy I was in dating limbo with for far too long because he was using me as an emotional crutch) made me believe I needed it. He made me feel like my anxiety was totally out of control, and around him it kind of was.
Around him I felt like I was broken and wrong and needed fixing, and thus I started anxiety medication. He actually told me once that he would date me again if I got my anxiety under control which makes me so angry when I think about it. There were so many times that I should have given him the boot, and I kick myself for all the times I didn't. When I finally couldn't take it anymore I told him "fuck you."
Later he said that he was sorry we left it that way, but honestly I'm not sorry at all. During our entire relationship he told me I should stand up more for myself, but I realize that he only meant when it was convenient for him. I couldn't be further from sorry to be honest. That final "fuck you" encompassed every single negative feeling he made me feel, and all those times I tried my hardest to make him happy.
During our relationship he always came first, his needs were always more important and mine never mattered. A few weeks ago he actually called me to "apologize". I know that what he really wanted was to be absolved from guilt; he wanted to be able to say he was sorry and that all the shitty things he did didn't matter anymore. I actually told him that and he didn't deny it. It was all about him, it was always all about him to the very bitter end. I feel like I should be so utterly angry at him and I am, but even more I'm probably angry at myself for allowing it to happen.
Yesterday I went to a holiday party with D. D is a boy I met in my digital media class (which by the way I have a brutal hatred of the span of satan who teaches that class). He is a rather attractive smaller boy. I wasn't really sure what to expect from the party because I wasn't entirely sure if D liked me or not yet. Well after we both had some drinks and fun and shared lots of chats we ended up going back to his place. We kissed and talked a lot and I was expecting us to have sex but we ended up only doing a little bit of sexy times and then cuddling and talking lots more. It was actually super nice and I felt really listened to and accepted.
Of course these things always come with some amount of complication. At present I already have a sex friend; S. He's fun and we hang out but I'm pretty sure it's relatively void of romance. I don't mind our relationship but I also would like something romantic, but I'm not sure if they would both be okay with me doing stuff with both of them. Plus I was planning on going to a convention with S, and on valentines day no less. I'm not sure exactly what to do but nothing is set in stone yet.
Not to mention J really wants to date me and I honestly find him kind of clingy and annoying. Plus I met him online which is sort of weird. Plus I just didn't get the vibe that we'd really go well together you know?
Going back to my medication, it gives me super vivid dreams. And a lot of them too. Sometimes they're kind of interesting but it's also a little distressing. Since they feel so real, I get a little disoriented in the morning and have a hard time distinguishing what exactly is real. Not to mention that sometimes I'll remember something but not know if it was from a dream or real life.
I also feel like my memory has always been awful, but has been getting even worse as I get older. If I were 40 years old this would make sense, but I'm only 20. If my memory is this bad at 20, at 40 I'll be near loosing my mind I fear. I try to stay lighthearted about it but it honestly really scares me.
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