Whatsa-phobia????

So, in searching for some answers, trying to find some direction for all these feelings and thoughts running through me this week, Google have introduced me to a couple of interesting new words and I thought I would share them with you.  Is it only me or are you also able to identify with one (or two or all) of these?

phobia4 phobia6 phobia5 phobia3 phobia2 phobia1

The things I need to say…

Words don’t come easy..

afraid4

How do you share your fears and emotions, whether they are rational or not, with someone if you don’t know whether they will run or stay? Can I blame you for wanting to run if I share all my demons with you?  Will you stay because you see me more clearly than I see myself or because, like the ones before you, you will see my weakness as an advantage for you to be used?  Can I even blame you for getting angry at me questioning your motives?  Problem is that I can’t blame you for thinking you don’t need this in your life.  Problem is that I am afraid to tell you how I feel, because where I come from, that is the only reaction it will invoke.  Problem is that I am afraid.  Afraid of what you will think or say.  Afraid that I will mess it up by telling you all of this.  Afraid that I will blow it if I speak up and blow it if I keep quiet.  Afraid, just so very afraid.  Doomed if I do and doomed if I don’t because it’s eating me up inside.

How do I tell you that I want to love you with all that I am, but that I am too afraid of what you will do and how and when you will leave me? How do I tell you that I am insecure about who I am and where I fit in?  I am not stupid and I know I am not like the other girls you have as friends or ex-lovers / partners.  I am not 20 and flirty.  I am not the party clown and will not leave you friends in stitches with all my antics and stories of things that I have done.  I am not drop dead gorgeous people won’t stop and stare when I walk past.  I don’t have the perfect body.  I have stretch marks and scars to show that I have brought life into this world.  Wrinkles show you that I have lived a life and spend more time than was necessary worrying about others, when they never really cared about me.  I’m not funny.  There are a million things that I am not.

When I tell you that I love you, it is not the same as saying I love pizza. Pizza I can live without, pizza I can change every day.  When I say I love you, it means that I want to know all of you, everything about you even the deep dark fears that you hide behind jokes.  When I say “I love you”, I love fiercely, with all that I am, my heart on a platter, my soul open and exposed.  When I say I love you, I really mean that I forsake all others, that I cherish you and who you are above all other and that no-one and nothing could change that for me – the power is in your hands, you control the destiny of what we have.   When I tell you that I love you, it is not merely a couple of words strung together – it is a declaration that I am putting you as my first priority above all things on this earth.  It is a promise to always have your best interest at heart.  It is a guarantee of my undivided care and devotion to you.  I will clean up after you and fuss over you.  When you are sick I will bring you medicine.  When you’ve had a bad day, I will listen to you rant and rave.   When you want to party I’ll be by your side to sing and dance and laugh.  When you want to be alone and quiet, I will give you your space.

I want to hear that you miss me and love me and can’t wait to spend time with me. I want you to hold my hand in public and show people that I am yours.  I want you to be proud of the fact that I am your one and only girl.  I want to know that you are my safe harbour, my anchor that will always be there to care for me and protect me.

I want you to challenge the way that I see things. I want you to make me think on a different level.  I want you to see that I a mind and a strong will and that I can stand my own ground.  In saying that, I want you to be prepared to step in when I am in over my head.

I have trust issues, so when you get a message and turn away to read it, I start to worry. When you stay away for a long time and ignore my texts, a million things go through my mind.  When one girl or a hundred girls tells you how amazing you are, the lioness in me wakes up ready to ravage them for even thinking about you.  I struggle to trust people because when I have trusted blindly in the past, it had been used as a weapon against me, time after time.  My trust has been seen as weakness and now I am forced to use it as a shield.  You are going to have to show that I can really trust you.  You are going to have to show me that not all guys are the same.  You are going to have to show me that I have nothing to worry about.

I want to love you fiercely and openly with all that I have, but I am afraid. I am afraid not of falling in love, but of hitting the ground when it’s all over and you decide to move on.  I am afraid of being hurt.  I am afraid for the moment when the butterflies are replaced by feelings of dread when you know that the writing is on the wall.  I am afraid of nights spent alone, awake and crying when all you want is to drift off to sleep with a loving arm around you.  I am afraid of coming home to nothing.  I am afraid of not having anyone to share my feelings and thoughts and emotions and ideals and hopes and dreams with.  I am afraid of being tossed aside and forgotten.  I am afraid of running out of things to say and do.  I am afraid for the moment when we both know it’s over, but neither has the balls to say it.  I am afraid of giving my all when you have something different in mind.  I am afraid of being used and abused.  I afraid of being a pastime until someone better comes along.  I am afraid of being 50 or 60 or 70 and alone, not because I don’t know how to be alone with myself, but because I don’t want to have to do that.

No one ever said love would be easy, but it is worth it in the end.

These are the things I want to say, but don’t know how…

I wish I was a Bimbo

boat

I am a boat lost at sea, a rudderless boat with no radar or compass. I am caught in an endless black night with no stars to guide the way and just wave upon wave crashing into and over me, tossing me around from side to side.

What a week it has been. I’m being tormented by thoughts and ideas and fears and emotions that are not totally unknown to me.  I know every single one of those things and usually am quite capable of putting an end to their taunting, when they come at me one at a time that is.  I guess I have just never before experienced such an onslaught of all those things throwing themselves at me in wave after wave, the one trying to be bigger and stronger more real and more intense that the previous one.  I am drowning.  It is completely and utterly irrational and my mind is my worst enemy.  I know I need to stop because I am heading for self-destruct mode and if I don’t pull myself together I will end up running for the hills.  I know all of this because I have been here before, but the taunting won’t stop and my mind is racing with a million things at the same time, thinking and over thinking creating yet another short-circuit that leads down a new path of torment.

I have so much to say and four different drafts staring at me – just rambling away but not making any sense at all.

I want to write about loving from a comfort zone where you know how it will end, because you have been down that road so many times vs loving from a place that scares you, because it is so unlike anything you have ever known.

I want to write a letter to the men I’ve loved before. I want to know if they ever stop to think about the chaos they left behind.  I want to know if they ever really felt anything.  I want to know if any of it was ever real to them.  I want to know what I did wrong.  I want to know why I was never enough and if I ever will be.  I want them to know that their combined efforts have changed me on a fundamental level.  I am now the scared little bird with the broken wing and I hate being this way.  Are they proud of what they have done?  Do they ever consider the consequences of their actions?  It’s pointless, I know.  They will never see it and they will never know.  They probably don’t even care.  Should I do it to get closure?  Closure is not an option.  The questions will remain unanswered and no matter what I do I will always wonder why I could never make it work.

I want to write about the phobias I have developed. Yip, while spending sleepless night in turmoil this week, my friend Google have introduced me to a range of phobias that I never knew existed.  Phobias that are too close for comfort and that are guaranteed to ruin any relationship.

I want to write a letter to someone who is very special to me. I wish I was better with words, I wish I could just speak my mind and tell you how I feel.  I envy the girls in romantic comedies who can just blurt it all out in a serious case of verbal diarrhoea and everything comes out all wrong but all right at the same time.  I wish I could purge myself of everything that I want to tell you.  But the hurt and phobias created by the douche bags have left me completely out of my comfort zone and I am back to ground zero where I just want to run.  Running is the easy way out.

I wish I was a bimbo – the kind of girl who can just go through life flirting from one flower to the next without thinking too much or caring too much, taking each day as it comes, not trying to figure it all out. But I’m not a bimbo and never will be.  I am complex.

I wish I had an anchor to bring me to a halt. I wish I could find some sense in it all, a safe harbour.  I wish I could run ashore on an island where the nights were spent in peaceful sleep and there is nothing to question.