Before 2020 ends, It is important for myself that I ought to be honest. Always.
I like to be openly honest. Not to allow myself to be vulnerable… but to more or less place higher expectations on myself, and to of course improve as a person. If I have but one true purpose in this life, it is to find my true value in this life. Nothing else.
Some people may fear doing so, in speaking about themselves or publishing snippets of their lives on blogs. That’s understandable, I used to fear doing so for years. For me, my comfort is garnered from the reality that a. no one truly cares, b. I’m writing for myself, past anyone else and c. I’m forever evolving as a person. I have nothing to hide. Even with the walls of text I am prone to write, I still don’t reveal all of myself. I simply can’t, no matter how much I desire to. Therefore, this should further solidify my justification. This post will age, for certain, and with its aging, I will have matured into a different person, by then… as I have been, since I firstly began on this journey to retrieve myself.
I write a lot. Anyone who has corresponded with me, can attest to the amount of detail I put within letters. I enjoy writing… so a lot of people may make the false assumption that I am obsessed with myself to an unhealthy degree. On the contrary, I do not fantasize about myself (after this post, I now do)… rather, I project what I long within myself onto others. Therefore, this would suggest that I have much more work to do on myself.
I should be fantasizing about myself, that’s where I’ve been going wrong.
Problem area #1. infatuation and crushes.
I’ve recently entered into the dating scene again… not primarily for the reason of attempting to find love, but more or less for the reason that I’m interested in testing how much confidence I’ve garnered through the years. Initially, I had suffered with severely low self-esteem in my youth. ‘Extremely low’, by that measure would be an absolute understatement. I hated myself for many years. This hatred is a product of a number of things… firstly, one being with how I experience the world. My being Autistic (Asperger’s) leads me to be hyper-sensitive and anxious a lot of the time. Just as well, my being different and idiosyncratic to others is instantly recognized… and I was severely bullied as a child for this reason. The perfect recipe for low self-esteem, and the funny thing is that… I didn’t even know I had low self-esteem ’til three years ago. My initial low self-esteem led to a very damaging and toxic relationship. When you have no self-worth for yourself, anyone will do.
However, I do not regret this relationship. Just as well as everything in life, despite the pain, for it led me to realize: “Ah yes, I hate myself don’t I?”
And so, began three years of work on myself… and now, the results:
I am two years away from a PhD, financially independent, and I have taken up piano and music theory. I have developed a voice of my own, and assertiveness. I take myself out on dates, wherever I desire: The art gallery, piano recitals, concerts. Years ago, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to do that. However, I still have many blindspots to myself that I must iron out.
One of main issues in life is crushes and infatuations. They serve no purpose, and are of no use to me… yet they have sustained my fascination toward the unknown, throughout my twenty-five years. My infatuations would be very intense and long. I have in-fact been single for a majority of my life by choice, and my infatuations and have sustained me for one to two years. Such obsessions and inclinations have nearly destroyed me, and you know why? I was too stubborn for years, to let go of these fascinations due to my fear that I wouldn’t be able to draw.
OH! Heaven forbid that I don’t have some ideal–some muse to draw! HEAVEN FORBID! Yes, I’m a lot like Hector Berlioz… sadly. Minus the genius. Berlioz always had to be infatuated, or he couldn’t create.
And although that was the narrative Berlioz told himself, I believe I can change mine.
Infatuation can only happen from when you are distanced from the object, or you just simply don’t know them enough. For me, it’s perfect. I could fantasize and imagine the way this person is, in any fashion I would like. Selfish? Absolutely. Which leads me toward that desire of rectifying it, in the first place.
The rush of fantasizing about scenarios in one’s mind, much-like a film reel of romantic montages is like that of a dopamine hit. I have clung to it for years. Oh, for so long… I have longed for an idealized image of someone who is my counterpart. The unreachable. For so long… and this is a guilty admission that I have kept to myself for all of my life, due to a lack of understanding. This is an unhealthy, obsessive fascination which boarders on absolute lunacy. My infatuations would be long, and detailed within the space of my mind. I would fantasize about objects of desire, and how great I thought they were. How wonderful it would to be with them. To talk to them. For them to understand me. For them to hold me. And so… this desire would fuel me during courtship. I would take the initiative, and pursue my object of interest with tenacity. Leading the conversation along, as it were. Taking a stronger approach as opposed to being meek. When I see something, I have all intention of attaining that goal. And of course, this scares men off. They go running for the hills.
Was it desperation then?
No? For me, that never occurred to me. Subtlety isn’t something that I can do naturally, however it’s the forte of the feminine, apparently. If I like a guy, I like a guy. I tell him, and whilst doing so, I set boundaries. I am impatient, and I don’t like wasting time truth be. Either, the guy likes me or not. If he doesn’t, he can fuck off. Simple as that. I can seem rather forceful. Rather intense. I know that to be certain. Is that the main problem? No, because in all truth I don’t care if they run. It’s the feelings I am left with, that are far worse (even if I have another guy to replace the former guy). And they aren’t a symptom of the fellas who run. It’s a symptom which leads one to ask “Why.”
Causation: Lack Of Self Love.
This is the reason: It is within these objects of desire I see lack, not a lack of their presence (although, that is a very important thing) but a lack within myself. My longing, and fantasizing for someone else is evidence of the still present lack of self-confidence within.
For years… I finally figured it out. I wanted someone to complete me. I wanted happily ever after. I wanted roses. I wanted that nastiness–that emptiness within me to go away. To subside. But you know what? That isn’t addressing the issue at all. No man could ever complete me, no matter how perfect he appears to be. No one should EVER place their condition of happiness on someone else. EVER. No-one is responsible, at the end of the day for how you feel.
People are unpredictable, nasty and damaged themselves. People will let you down again, and again.
Therefore, the responsibility of happiness shouldn’t be placed unfairly on others. Always, the responsibility is yours. You decide, and you choose your happiness.
In your life, you are number one. Always. Number one! I know it’s cliched, but damn if there isn’t any truth in it. You must love yourself before someone can love you. It’s that simple.
Just as well, place expectations on no-one. People will do what they will fucking do. No-one is predictable. No-one.
Ultimately. When it comes to a crush: tell yourself, it isn’t true. Because it isn’t. That there is as fake. You don’t want fake. You want real.
The fake imago that I had built up in my mind, through strangers all had one thing in common:
They would adore me.
They would understand me.
We would have long drawn-out conversations together.
And they would love me.
Therefore… I had all I needed to know. I now needed to do all of those things for myself. I needed to give myself all of those things, and that is what I am now in the process of doing.
I see this disease is found, not just in myself… but others too. We all desire for ‘love’, yet none of us know what love is truthfully. I myself, do not know what it is, in regard to Idealizations, and seeing past the ‘good’ of the person.
Everyone has darkness to them. Everyone.
One day, I am certain that I WILL love. However, love truly is mysterious. Lust isn’t love… love has staying power. Love is getting to know someone for years, and years. With all of their damage. With all of their ugliness. With all of the gross and disturbing truths. People are gross close-up, did you know that? Love is all about staying for the reality of those things, despite that, you stay! That is what love is.
Heuheuheuheuhe, also divorces are at all time high nowadays. Did’yaknowdit?
What does one do?
DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON ANYONE. EVER. Sure, they look nice. Sure… but did you know that they shit, fart, and masturbate like everyone else? Also, 9/10 they’re emotionally stunted and don’t bloody know what they want. There you go, cured. But I hear you saying “What If I see them with another –” Yeah, don’t just look… stare. Take it all in. That’s their problem now! See, I fixed you. They not only get the sweetness of that person. They get all the ugliness too… ohohohohohohoh~
That there, is just a human being. The meaning you assign to the human being through your eidetic experience, is how you perceive the being. Your subconscious is the one that’s kicking you in the ass, my lovely. Instead, your mind ought to be occupied with fantasies and admiration of yourself, as opposed to some cookie-cutter ‘dream’ cooked up from the recesses of your subconscious.
Although, if you do have crushes you simply can’t be rid of… treat them as if they’re fiction. You know? Movies, or celebrities. I like to daydream about Frederic Chopin every now and again, but that doesn’t mean I’m obsessed with him (to be fair, he is my phone’s wallpaper though). Hahaha, hell no! Stay dead, ghostie! Chopin is my go-to material for enjoyment. In my daydreams, he plays me all the Nocturnes I want on demand. And, he also bitches about Franz Liszt and tells me that he’s in awful pain all of the time. Then I laugh to myself and say “Oh Chopin, you so crazy~” My imagined Chopin is more reliable than anyone else, and yet… I still know he’s fiction. Because he’s dead, heheuheuhehueheuhe.
Meryl has a dead boyfriend. Meryl has a dead boyfriend. Meryl has a dead boyfriend~No! Meryl has a dead husband. Get it right. He’s my husband in my daydreams!
Although, daydreaming about yourself is really what you ought to be doing past the object of desire. Honestly. For example, I like to daydream that I’m playing in front of an audience, and my hands have the same dexterity and agility as my teacher’s… when I’m like 30 or 35.
And then, for some reason Frederic Chopin comes out of nowhere and starts making out with me.
Also, depersonalize people you’re interested in.
Have the least bit amount of faith in them, especially in the early stages.
A majority of people you cross paths with in your life, WILL NOT WORK OUT.
Sing it with me.
Don’t expect them to contact you.
Your world doesn’t revolve around anyone else.
Don’t put them on a pedestal.
They won’t ever prove anything to you.
Don’t believe their words.
Always expect that they will fuck up, because they will.
Replies are shit? Do the same.
Look at their actions. They are already fucking up.
Ghosted you? Then fuck them off.
You’ve got no time for that shit!
You have your own life to live. You have lived without them, and you can easily live without them now.
And don’t give them second chances. Fuck them off for good. Use your ‘tegridy! There’s billions of people this world, mang. Don’t be wasting your time on someone that’s wasting yours. With my disappointments, I always get new replacements and the fun begins again!
GET YOURSELF SOME QUALITY! DON’T SETTLE FOR LESS.
In my observation. I have learnt much.
I have now decided to never have a crush or infatuation on anyone (alive) ever. My sister, in her infinite wisdom… and her having more dating experience, told me that she doesn’t develop crushes, anymore because she just knows it’s a load of phooey. From the land of make believe. People aren’t impressive up-close. People are just people. Therefore, that’s all the justification one needs.
” No one could ever live up to the idealizations within my mind. No-one. Mere illusion are what these fantasies are, and figments of my psyche past anyone else. To place such standards on others, are of pure selfishness and masochism on myself. “
Wish me luck. When this post ages, I hope to hell that I’ve made progress.
But Meryl, what will you draw if you abandon crushes? Have you seen the world? There is a lot of shit out there to draw. A lot.Who knows what will capture my interest? That is the ultimate beauty of it all.
Side bar advice:
Don’t ever change yourself for anyone else, except yourself. Always. And as my former viola teacher used to say
“Does it look like I care?”
Fuck no, Mr. Viola man. Fuck no.