The Good Thing About Blogging

I write. I get responses. I think. That’s a good thing, that thinking part. I’ve spent the better part of the weekend, when not watching N play in a soccer tournament (his team came in second BTW, thank you very much), thinking about the current state of me and moving from the phase where I go all out self-destructive-running-on-adrenaline to the phase where I start to step back and look at what I’m doing and evaluate. Now generally at this stage I would put the blinders on and defend myself to myself and keep right on going. This time I’m really thinking a few things through although it hasn’t quite thrown the brakes on just yet. (Who knows, though, maybe after my visit with Freud tomorrow, maybe the brakes will engage, or maybe even just downshift me into low gear or something.)

As I added the new FWB (who shall henceforth go by M on the blog) to the post where I have my list of all the men I’ve had sex (as defined by intercourse, as in oral only doesn't get you on the list) with I looked over that list. It has been a very long time since I have had sex with a bona fide single person. Over and over I have chosen to be with married men. Now, I suppose I knew this, and yet just seeing it listed that way made me realize it in a way I hadn’t before. There is clearly something fucked up in my psyche that would cause me to follow such a pattern because it is a definite pattern, not a coincidence.

I’m just starting to piece things together, but the following are some of the pieces in random order as they pop into my brain:

1. I feel inferior and unworthy of a truly high quality partner.
2. At least part of that feeling of inferiority comes from my parents telling me over and over that if I didn’t change certain things about myself (such as my weight and my mile wide independent/rebellious streak) that I would never find a man who wanted me.
3. I have spent my life being grateful for any attention men would pay to me and tend to grab hold and hang on as if I am lucky to have anyone at all.
4. At this point, I feel like I am too far gone to be able to turn around and make things different, that even if I did change how I feel about myself it wouldn’t change how others see me and I would always be “damaged goods” and untrustworthy.
5. I am appalled by how pathetic all this sounds and realize that most of the time I do my best not to acknowledge the existence of these thoughts and feelings because they feel too daunting to challenge/tame/conquer.
6. As long as I settle for sex with married men, there is no chance of them judging me harshly (glass houses you know).
7. Every time someone (and there have been many) says to me, “You are worth more. You deserve more.” I think to myself that they are absolutely 100% wrong, and that I don’t even deserve as much as I have.
8. I fear that if I hold myself to a higher standard I will never have sex again and never have another chance to have a marriage or relationship of any kind.

That’s as far into my psyche as I can dig right now. Too much pain. Too many tears. Lots to discuss with Freud tomorrow.
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Late Update:
I totally and completely forgot K when I was saying I hadn't been with a single man in a very long time.  For some reason I failed to add K to the list (have fixed that now though).  However, I do believe this is just the exception that proves the rule.  If you don't remember K, you can find some of my posts about him here, here, and here.  Now, let me warn you that last one is pretty sexually graphic.  If that's not your cup of tea don't go there, 'kay?  Just sayin'.  Anyway, it feels a little better to know that there was at least one single man out there who spent a little time with me.