...at least we can joke about it now, what do I know

Yes. But what gets me is: although he was offended, he still sat there for a few hours . Paints us as hypocrites even more, doesn't it?

 

hah.

hypocrits, yeah.

funny that. I feel I am at a moment were I am about to throw it all down the drain again. I am in the state of wanting to be offended.

it's not even a single thing but a multitude of minor things that tear apart my peace of mind.

trick is now to hold tight and don't fall from the wagon, no matter how rocky and weird and disorienting the road may be.

all hands to battle stations, this is not a drill. here we go!

 

hmmm. lots of time passed since I was here last time around.

lot of stuff happened, some bad, mostly good.

time to take stock, maybe.

I had a relapse, some two or three weeks back. went for about three days. lots of gaming and about three days of watching porn.
It set me back function-wise, but...

the thing is, I got there. full functionality, gentlemen. I never really liked penetrative sex, cause it never worked. now it does,
and thats great. and it not only works, its also super nice. in a way the relapse was beneficial, see what you can have, see how you
can have it ruined, too.

dating-wise I'm beginning to do the online thing. after a summer of free roam romance that went nowhere, twice, I'm actually in a
mood to date people and see where it goes.

have a new full time job, still adjusting and the jury is out on whether or not it will bore me out of my skull. but at the moment my
focus is rather on filling my free time with stuff that has meaning to me and seeing friends and organizing my affairs, all of which
I still struggle with.

porns not gone, and my addictive/avoidant patterns aren't either, but hey, thats my schacke, my flaw, and while I intend to work on it,
it will be with me until the day I die, thats okay though.

have enough good friends I can help and that can help me. it's a life alright, fam.


PS:

four years, fam. it took four years, but it worked.

 

hell yeah, to penetrative sex!

 

Ah. I'm far from done. It's not that I didn't get out of the porn thing, I did, somehow, by questionable means, over a long period of time, incrementally. But I am well and fully able to step back in.


Because, while I wound out of the behaviour like a very mediochre snake, the root of the thing is still very much alive, further down there, where the tree of the soul roots firmly in the territory of my past, that is anything but firm.

This is not an empty victory, but what it is - put down your plastic sword and mirror shield and face it - is an empty life.

Not to say there aren't good moments, there are, not to say I do not have good friends, of great wit and greater heart, I have, not to say I am devoid of luck, gifts, privilege and, by now, experience.

But look into the matter of your life, you cannot help but find it deeply, profoundly wanting.

Wanting of the self of more of the self. Wanting for some kind of dream that doesn't blind, doesn't just dampen the pains and the dullness of existing. Wanting for these primordial fears, fears of a child, really, that dictate me to such nonsensical depths of consumption, of denial, of avoidance to be uprooted, looked at - and then devoured.

As I am, I am still adrift. Better positioning, much effort put to better defenses, somewhat hardened.

Yet not able to turn around and fight. Fights versus my lifelong habit of avoiding shit. Not facing the broken, painful relationship to my estranged father. Not calling that friend that matches the behaviour patterns of said father, sending me into flight. Not facing the issues I farm with my finances, leading into debt while having a very frugal (naturally so) lifestyle over and over and over again.

Not seeking love, with all the work I have put towards loving myself. Not seeking purpose, nor any sort of mastery, with all the stuff I have been given and all the stuff I have build for myself.

Not making anything, with all my wish for making.

Back to that moment, years ago, on that bathroom floor, shattered me, just barely aged twenty.

I did not survive, and come this far, to be this dull, this fearful, this muted. Not yet a knight, childe.

 

Thinking about the cyclical shipwreck moments I produce. A way of life lived on borrowed time, then crash and pay dearly, stupid tax and all.

A lot of stuff for me was accepting as is, playing the scrappy economics game, drifting fowards, still drifting. It has gotten me so far, but the very way my vessel is built, how it operates just breeds problems.

I know these are very nebular terms. To be clear: my problem solving is mostly avoidant. I postpone, I suppress, I suffer through.

If things progress as they do now, I will end up shipwrecked sooner or later. I'm in my bloody mid thirties.

So my general idea is: bring that faulty ship to port, take it apart and reform it. I cannot wait for crisis to fuel me with resolve to act, lest I risk a sort of stable mediocracy, the dullest of pains, occasionally highlighted by catastrophy.

I'll meet a friend soon, a good one and sit down with her and plan what I need to change about my ways. And I need to be ready for structural change. And soon.

 

I find my life lacking, see the missing piece is found in me
Among all the dreamt assumptions the key I will have to be

Work on that, dear self. :3

Reading "the body keeps the score". Great stuff. Would recommend for anybody looking into the topic of trauma.

 

It is definitely a great book. One misconception I think it breaks, is that extreme forms of trauma, like experiencing war or being raped (big T), for instance, are not the only ways to be traumatized. I was speaking to a gentleman that works in this area and, given the access to information without a bill, I figured I'd ask him some questions. He was quite adamant that studies show cumulative "small T" traumas can be even more traumatizing than the biggies, and it's really based more on an individuals perception of the experience as to how it affects them. The first part is a bit hard for me to believe, but that's what he said. I can definitely understand how unresolved shit being shovelled onto ones back over a period of years can definitely add up.

I have done a bit of EMDR (on myself) with a free video on youtube. Psychs don't recommend this, but there is also a monetary incentive for them not to. I believe that it has an effect and does exactly what they say it will- that it will make horrible memories that still make your guts churn while thinking about them, not have that effect any more (the memories are no longer emotionally charged). If I'd been through obvious big T trauma, I would probably go to a professional as that is where the said "danger" lies - Too much emotional charge being brought up and experienced at once, causing one to be retraumatized. But for my uses, I think this is good. I just look at the ball going back and forth, think about bad memories for a bit, then do it again, but instead of the bad memory, think about some positive mantra or whatever - to install in the bad memory's place. I've read the book (Getting Past your Past) about EMDR by the lady that discovered the modality, I didn't think it was all that great TBH. Others obviously disagree.
The guy I was talking to stated that a number of these researchers believe that virtually all addiction is caused by unresolved trauma. The only one I can remember is Gabor Mate, and he's pretty well known but he mentioned a number of others as well.

 

This. Been wondering so long how I had the right to be as damaged, set back and silent as I am. Or was.

But this explains it. Still I have troubles believing in it, to a degree. Only walls we can see can be torn down. Like the construction vehicles tearing down that infamous wall in my home town of Berlin when I was just a small kid on my dads shoulders.
No even sure if the recollection I have of that night isn't fabricated retelling mostly by now, but I've been there, that I know.

So part of the task is believing I can see the obstacle in front of me, in my past. Embrace that it exists. That I have lived with it for all these years.

And then run it over with a fucking bulldozer and build something good from the rubble.

 

For the sake of accountability:
Goals for the coming week:

Habits:
be in bed before midnight, phone away from bed
get up earlier than absolutely necessary, either take a walk, do some yoga or write in the morning

Find a lover:
Text leftover matches, kick the ones I don't want to write
Find photos and set up different app
Overwork boring bio stuff

Tackle problems:
Write to that friend I haven't spoken to in half a year

Find better job:
File CV in that job databank

Make hair dresser appointment

Read more watch less:
Read current book by end of the week, pick next book
Think about what I actually want to watch

Finances
Set up repeating order
Get budgeting app and set categories

Planning
Set days for each entry here

Bulldoze
Open that letter and react to it
Find someone to talk about the matter

Creative
Type handwritten story
Create character sheet and send it to the GM

Track
Track progress or failure of these tasks

 

Yo. Going to work full time and still doing something with my free time is quite a change of pace. So far it's going okay, but yesterday I just crashed on the couch for half an hour, sleeping. I understand that the trick is to not overdo it, but I have to get out of my lazy ass comfort zone anyways.

Lots of old emotions came up yesterday after work. I try to accept them and take them on, rather than pushing them down, but I felt a bit overwhelmed. I managed to continue my day, but its a lot.

Will be a gradual process, I guess.

 

Metaphor time. If I think myself as I am right now, and as I came to be, I picture this:

My life is like a fucking treehouse atop a tall ass tree. Whole town of me in a tree house, cause we are many things, we are many people, in a way.

The Tree stands tall, but it stands on grounds that are shrouded in mists. Down there is my past, as in my origin, what happened, what didn't happen, the works.
Down there is my childhood, adolescence, what went right with it, and what did not.

Down there is a pot of gold, or rather, pots of gold, as well as a to be determined bunch of fucky things of fucky nature.

Wouldn't call the tree sick now, would we. It's a tree alright, it carries, sort of. But wouldn't call it super healthy either, cause at it's roots is the fuckiness, too.
Stuff I put away. Avoided. Couldn't deal, couldn't handle. Learn to not-handle, learned to not-deal. You might think thats a dumb thing to do, but probably I needed that.

Like pots of food you don't eat, you clamp em shut, they get moldy, they get really really rotten. And then they go boom, the lid flies, hits you in the head and now there's stink everywhere.
Something like that. A lot of fear, down there, terror even, shit I should have eaten, couldn't now it's still there, undigested. And it tastes like terror, tastes like death.#

But I have to build a kind of elevator, ropes and peter pan shit, and be able to go back/down the tree. And feel that shit, and learn that it's passed, and digest it.
And then be able to get back up the tree to where I live, in the present time year of the lord yadda yadda yadda.

Have to stop avoiding the shit I did in the past. Cause in contrast to the pots of gold don't there, it won't sit there contently. It will gnaw at the trees roots. It will come up and barf on my carpet.
And it won't stop. Cause I have to learn to deal, learn to handle. Learn that the pasts the past and eat up these weird, fucked up emotions, piled and piled atop of each other into some sort of traumatic, humungous monster.

And it will be the shittiest work I could ever dream of, and the only one that's really in need of doing. Cause I like the tree, as it is.

But I noticed it hasn't been growing as much as it should. I should be higher, among these fucking clouds there, growing contently.
But no. I avoided, and the things at the root eat at the roots and fuck with them and I am, well, not halted, but retarded. Bad word. I am slowed, constrained, held back. Better words.
And it's fear that clamps down the lids of the pots, and its fear thats growing at the root.

Fear not as in "uh ha he, I am SUCH a coward and should get over myself". Fear as in terror, that prime in your face taste of base emotions.
And now I have to elevator down there and hug that child-thing in my heart and all that wholesome shit. Lest it further fucks with my tree. Bad child-thing, bad!

Great. Just great.

Look up at the clouds. I wanna go there, without knowing what there is.
Look down at the roots, down in the mists. I have to part them. Face the fucky pots of avoidance and terror, and find the pots of gold, too.

Metaphor time over. Time to do the thing.

 

Wooo. After all that prose yesterday I'm in the process of tackling a financial issue. Hearts racin, I feel funny, but hey, at least I'm doing it and not running anymore.

The real joke is, I don't even need much money. I'm a naturally frugal bitch. Is just I keep producin these avoidance issues that end up being a horrendous pile of stupid tax.

Which means, once I've worked through my avoidance, I will be very very chill with money matters. Cos spending ain't the issue, fam. What a fucking trip. TT

 

Congrats, man, for confronting your avoidance. I know it's no joke!

 

Yep man. The funny thing is, once I started the process of sorting that mess out, I have zero fear of it left. Once I'm through that door, there's only calm and things to do.

I have some, well, let's call it student debt left open. I want to get a grip on my finances and get rid of that stuff in the coming year. The job I just started pays more than I ever earned (still not super much, but hey)
and I might get my side hustle of teaching English one to one back soon.

Finance is surely not my own construction site (a wonderful German expression for the issues in your life: Baustelle), but I want to learn to never be in that awful spot again and tame that monster, amke it a friend.

I have been quite sick the past week, putting me out of comission for a while. Today I was back at work for the first time, and while I am still somewhat out of it, I'm looking to get back in the saddle.

I have a couple of friends who are also in the process on pushing through their hardships. And others fall from view, not forgotten, but I can only labour to save my own skin and help those that are able to help back
and can actually use my skills. In a way it's hard seeing the rest fade, but hey, we're no in it to be dragged down. We need brothers and sisters in battle, not someone clawing to us when the melee gets hefty.

My family is a prime example of this lately. A part of us is going downhill, has been really, for a long time. When I was twenty I considered myself the black sheep of the bunch.
And now I look at the destruction visited upon them and realize I am far better off. Cause better position, for once, and also I put the work in to cut through the dark shit and face it.

They haven't. And now they burn. Seriously. And I know I can do fucking nothing for them, cause the way out we must build ourselves. And that's okay, too.

Fills me with a weird determination. I will not be destroyed by fear, by my vices, by my bad choices of partners. I have to let go of what consumes them. And put the childish fantasy of helping them aside. Don't mean I don't say what needs saying and listen. For a while. Compassion is still in order. But I appreciate my limitations, and I do know how people I can actually help behave, look like. And help back.

Anyways, time to find some sleep before the next workday.

 

Oh, man, quite a bunch you said there.

Obviously, you are facing many many things. From experience, the best way to address everything is while you have a clear brain, un-imbibed by porn. The very best way to start.

You say "Baustelle", I'll sheepishly admit I gave up a long time ago learning German, but I've heard of / am fascinated by..."Einstürzende Neubauten", LOL .

 

hah. been preoccupied, procrastinate, next to meself the past few days. part of it is christmas, not a big fan cause its my mothers high celebration of her fuckery, but also because tonight I have lover coming over.
and exactly because I made a lot of progress in the d department I think I am hit by performance anxiety. cos now i have shit to prove, expectations of myself. and it got nothing to do with her, much.
cos she has seen me in worse times and we still had fun, to a degree. well, she certainly did.

never just the body, always brain, always mind, always heart, too, that are involved in any of this. tend to forget. dumb dumb.

but then, no expansion without reaching out, loosing balance a bit, no? hah.

tl;dr: I am a bit anxious about having sex but thats probably good I just did not notice so it hit harder. first world problems, reboot edition.

 

Ui. The lover in question being somewhat lacking in interest in me atm notwithstanding, that went well.

Put in a lot of effort retraining, basically getting out of my death grip habit and into stuff with lube and funny looking plastic masturbators (why are dildos so normalised yet toy vaginas feel super weird to talk about?) - aaaand I can have sex like a real boy now, at the tender age of 36.

Also, improved stamina, a lot. That shit went on for more than an hour, breaks and ye old foreplay included. But first time around was like 5 minutes tops.

Great success, now to find someone who actually wants my ass.

I moved from "lets not masturbate too much cos there might be sex in three days" to "lets not m too much and not in a death grippy way generally, so if something happens, we be ready, fam".

Comes down to respecting my own body more, and with it my d. And with practice, I now have more confidence in my d working. Had some moments in between where it didn't but I knew it would be okay, so I gave it some time, and bam, here we go again.

Weird man, looking at porn with dudes being able to do it for so long, always on the outside, and now to be able to do that myself. Huh.

 

Weird dream. There's a coworker I find very attractive, had a dream of them where I somehow found porn they were featured in. Haven't had one of these "your brain misses porn" dreams in quite some time. Maybe I should be keeping an eye on that thing, might be trouble. Dunnow.

 

Back to standard work routine after the holidays. Bit questionable moods the past days, kicked one lover out of my metaphorical bed, on amicable terms, but still, got a solid no from a would be candidate for romance, so I can see where it came from.

Will have to put in some effort into finding someone worthwhile, but atm I am fine with getting back to normal routine. Happy new year, y'all!