A pinch of salt

Toby brings up some interesting points in his comments regarding my return to the 'sportfuckin' foray.

He wrote:

You wrote;

> (I know I said I’m done with casual sex. I’m not.
> I’m still looking for the man of my dreams, but
> right now I need some distraction. Anything to take
> the flames, the smoke, the soot, the pain, the fact
> that I no longer have anything I owned…. Bear with
> me. Plus, I question my mental stability and ability
> to be a girlfriend right now.)

I might be completely wrong, but I think these are all good reasons, not real reasons. I'm concerned that the real reason is the same as it always has been; insecurity, and a longing to be loved.

Deliberately and consciously stopping doing something (casual sex in this case) which is driven by such powerful needs is *very* hard, and it may just be that this time you've not succeeded in making such a difficult and profound change in your lifestyle, and that there's a bunch of "good reasons" which let you let yourself off.

But I might be completely wrong, and it is a very personal and complicated matter, and I only know you through a weblog. So take everything with a pinch of salt.



I wonder this myself, and often. I will be the first to admit that I, although often introspective and mostly honest with myself, am not always the keenest on understanding the REAL reasons I do things.

Years of headshrinking, almost as many years of attempts at brain meds, and it all comes back to this:

I do what I want to do. Damnit.

I do what i feel i NEED to do. Right now I feel like I need to get off, and often. I'm going through a hypersexual phase. I'm no shrink - but i bet its all elaborate distraction.

A distraction from what, you say?

A distraction from some of the pain that I'm in - physically, mentally, emotionally.

A distraction from having to make an excel spreadsheet detailing every item I owned, its age, and replacement value.

A distraction from the charred remains of my childhood stuffed rabbit, ynnub tibbar and his fire scortched fur and missing eyes my father so lovingly tried to restore for me.

A distraction from going home nightly to a home that is mine, yet oddly contains NONE of my stuff.

A distraction from the vision - that comes back almost nightly, of opening the door to see the wall of flames.

A distraction from the guilt and pain in thinking about Lucy the parrot and Magners the guinea pig and making little velvet lined shoebox coffins for their charred lifeless bodies. From the pain of having to tell their owners, who had entrusted me with their care, the story of how I could not save them.

A distraction from the guilt and pain that's going on in my family right now. My cousin and her husband seem to think I have it easy - I just move, and heal, and get all new stuff, while they have to deal with rebuilding. My cousin actually told me she was mad at me for going to their house on new years eve looking "like a million bucks" when she had been dealing with contractors all day, and freaking out and stressed out... I looked like a fucking million bucks? What, with my singed hairline, missing eyelashes, and second degree burns? Sure, I had some new clothes on - THATS BECAUSE I HAD NOTHING!

So... Long bitching and moaning story short... Casual sex for me right now is a distraction. I've decided that one of the things that was bothering me before was I was acquiescing to have casual sex, when what I really wanted was more. I knew I wanted more and thought I was ready.

Right now, one thing I am sure of is i am NOT ready for a serious relationship. Although it would be nice to have someone to call home, i am not myself right now. I'm dealing with some pretty heavy stuff - or at least trying to distract myself from it =] so I just need to not seek the impossible.

And that, TOBY, is why I'm ok with casual sex right now. In fact, I'm MORE than ok with it.

I'm reveling in it.

So, boys - BRING IT ON!!!!!!