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Vulnerability Is

October 14, 2015

Icky. It’s heart-wrenching. It sucks. It’s rewarding. And it saved me. 

I talk about this a bit, probably less than I should given the scope of this web log, but I did re-boot this to learn how to be vulnerable because I walled myself off from emotions. Not…to the point I became emotionless, however, I did feel very incapable of feeling much for anyone but lust. I feel awful saying that, but that was the only time I really ‘felt’ anything for anyone beyond myself. Lust. And if I wasn’t into them in that way it’d just be friendship, but I didn’t enjoy myself. I didn’t enjoy that I couldn’t bring myself to open up to anyone–to feel anything beyond that.

I also think shame was a lot of it, too. Shame to be who I was, shame that nobody would be interested in me, shame of how I looked, shame, shame, shame. It never felt like enough. It was always, “If I try to be more like this, people will like me,” and it never happened. I couldn’t change who I was anymore than you could change a zebra into a rhino. Okay. Maybe that’s extreme, but I couldn’t fight my own personal shame to see beyond my nose. Oh, sure, I liked plenty of people and cared for them, but I knew I’d never be seen as anything more to them than a friend and that always hurt.

Consequently, I think, that was what kept me from pursuing anything seriously–even with H-bomb the first time. I’d like to blame her for the indecisiveness on where things were going the first time, but no, that was all me. Fear that she wouldn’t like me. Fear that I wouldn’t like her. Fear that nothing would happen. Oddly, it was only after that was all stripped away that I could really want her. And I saw that my fears were unfounded…for a time. Maybe because it wasn’t so serious. Maybe…I dunno. I changed and not for the better.  More on that maybe some entry down the line.

I was talking to someone tonight that I’ve been attracted to since we first met and she told me I acted like I was never interested…yeah, that was shame. And other stuff. But that feels too late, although in the words of my friend, “It’s never too late until you’re dead.” So, in 2012 or so I decided to be more vulnerable and to learn what it means to be vulnerable though the lens of my web log. Why? Because the anonymity factor allowed me to put some distance between me and everyone else to where it’s not a total freak-out to open up. And…surprisingly people’ve responded to it. Much more than I thought I’d get.

But along with vulnerability has also been heartache. When I told H-bomb the first time that I loved her, I was scared. Still am scared because in my darker moments I worry if she was my zenith. I know that’s not the case, but it feels like it. It feels like I’ll never feel quite the same way about anyone again. And if I do, then chances are they’re not going to want me. I know this is all bullshit. It has to be. I won’t lie, though, if she ever did admit she feels something for me I’d probably give it a shot. Because of course I would. I’m king masochist in my friend’s minds. This, of course, assumes she’ll ever speak to me again. I also don’t like the expression ‘burned bridges’ as it gives a finality to it. I prefer to think things as temporary blockages. Eventually there will be a light at the end of that tunnel.

Yeah, what’s surprising in my soup of pessimism and self-doubt, I’m quite the optimist, which makes no sense. But there you are. I will say that vulnerability has saved me, though, because I do care more. I don’t take people for granted and I don’t see people as disposable; it’s why I’m not giving up hope of talking to H-bomb again and why I wouldn’t give up hope of talking to any friends I’ve had issues with. I’m not going to pretend I’m some expert on opening up because I still can be quite closed off, but when I feel passionately about something or someone I will let it be known.

Hell, I like some of the dorkiest rock out there and I’m not ashamed of it. Oh, if I were in my 20’s I’d definitely be going, “Shit…this is a mark of shame. Don’t like this! Don’t admit it!” But age does give you the ability to care less about things than you did. I don’t care about popular trends. This is a web log where I admitted I still wear jean shorts because I like them and fuck the haters. There’s too much negativity in this world as it is and being shamed because of fashion is probably one of the dumbest reasons out there.

Anyway, those are just some observations and thoughts. I like being vulnerable as it allows the real me to shine through. I only wish I could get past the anxiety and the fears. I’d feel a lot better, but I’m taking it a little bit at a time. I also wish I were in a better mood when dealing with she-who-has-been-named-thousands-of-times. I just got too wrapped up in my own anxieties and insecurities. I also couldn’t affect the change I wanted because of said anxieties and insecurities. Next time will be different whether it’s with her or anyone else.

Bonus: I told this to she, but I’ll repeat it here. There was a time when I’d been turned down for my license and I’d just started college and depended on my brother for rides until I got my own. Which…was not the best of experiences and it taught me a valuable lesson–one that I have forgotten until recently. See, my brother hated having to pick me up. He absolutely hated it to the point he drove like a maniac on our way home several times just because of how pissed off it made him. I vowed after that shitty experience that never again would I be at the whims of anyone else. I wouldn’t lose control of my own destiny and up until my burn-out the last year of college, I stuck by that.

Then the anxiety happened and then she happened and I couldn’t affect any change there in a positive way and it drove me nuts and drove me back into a slight depression over it. I’m slowly getting back into form if bullshit doesn’t stop me this time because never again am I losing control like that. I’m not. So I’m getting back in the saddle, I’m losing my weight, and I’m going to retake the control of my life I’d lost.

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