Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Starved for Touch / My Stupid Mouth

(Written last week)
Today while at work I listen to a cracked podcast that was about how humans today, especially Americans, are starved for touch. I remember a conversation a few months ago where Ginger was talking about how she was feeling. I remember her specifically saying that she was starved for touch. I understood what she meant, and I have to admit that in the end I did nothing to help. Ginger and the Professor had been going through a weird time have been going through a weird time with their physical relationship. I guess with their whole relationship. I tried to help but I think that most of what I did made things worse. I did try hard to give them time alone, what time I could find. I will do the same once we find a better equilibrium with the kids. At the time she was telling me things that she had asked the Professor for in particular and that was one of them. Obviously her long-distance partner can't help with her being starved for touch at the moment since he is, well, long distance.

I was and am full of ambivalence about situations like these. When she vents to me and I see how sad and upset she is, my first instinct is to help her. I want to solve her problem. I wants to give her what she wants. Part of the problem is that she does not want it from me. I could do all of these things and it would still not solve the problem because it would not be from the right person.

With this instance in particular however there was and is currently another issue. I don't really know how I feel about her and I don't know how she feels about me. I have become increasingly stingy with my body. It used to be much easier for me to give it much more freely. But now in some weird way by giving it to the Professor, it makes it easier to then pick and choose who else gets it. It is not freely given. I cannot give it freely. That makes me think more about who I give it to. And I don't want to give it when I don't feel comfortable.

I remember when I was pregnant petting them. I can only think of one time that anyone ever rub my feet. Granted I was lucky. Even though I was on my feet at work all day, I did not have a lot of the swelling that many pregnant women face. I'm quite sure that I rubbed the Professor's feet more times than anyone rubbed mine. I remember petting Ginger while I was pregnant. I probably should have asked for touch, but I feel like that's not something that I can have. At the time all of that was dialed up to a ten, but no matter what I've always felt like I don't get the things that others might assume they would get from their partners, because I didn't come first and so I don't come first. Part of it is the role of chosen to take. And I have chosen to take it. I'm not acting like this is something that was done to me. It's been my choice, but I've always felt like the options that were both open to me in the relationship are ones where I gave more and talk less. Sometimes I have felt like it's twisting arms just to get what I get. I remember sometime in the last year talking to Ginger and telling her that there was a point near the end of my pregnancy where I realized I have not gotten anything in the relationship that I had not begged for. I didn't just mean things from the Professor, but I think that may have been lost on her at the time.

The fact that I chose not to ask for touch during my pregnancy does not mean she should not have gotten touched during her pregnancy. It also doesn't mean that was the reason I did not give her touch during her pregnancy. It was that I didn't know how to give her touch when I felt so closed off from her, when I felt like each of us had chosen to close ourselves off to the other one to protect ourselves. While, I do feel bad about the end result, I also feel stingy about what I give when I have so little to give, especially if I feel like I'm not going to get anything back. Get enough back. It isn't to say that I did not do things for her during her pregnancy. This was just one of the things that I could not get myself to do.

I know we can't live together how we have. Or maybe we can but it's not how I want to live. I took off time to take care of her and the new baby and the household after she gave birth, but I didn't get to do that to the extent that I wanted to when I planned it. I could do very little with the baby because I can't feed him and I did not want to risk waking him up since when he slept was the only time Ginger could get any sleep. I could take care of her and practical matters, but once our older child went to bed, I did not want to hangout with everyone. I have expressed to her how uncomfortable I've been and that I would like to work on changing that especially now that she's not pregnant and hopefully she is in a little more level place. But first I need to figure out what it is I want and what it will take for me to feel the way that I would like to. I know that it will be a negotiation, but I need to at least know where I'm starting from.

(Written just before posting)
"My stupid mouth has got me in trouble. I said too much again..."

Finally a moment that felt good, that didn't feel like sand under my skin, and it's open mouth,  insert foot covered in shit from the big pile of crap I stepped in.

I was trying to tease and it pushed on a whole mess of sore spots and shitty life experiences we don't often talk about.  I hear much more about all the fun social life you had later, being way cooler and extroverted than i ever was and much less often about the social hell of your childhood. It sucks. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I carelessly poked it. I'm sorry that was your life. I thought my childhood sucked but it sucked in what seem now like tame stereotypical depressed bipolar kid from a broken home ways compared to the two of you. And I'm done trying to compete in the "my life sucked worse" olympics. Or the "my life currently sucks worse" olympics, for that matter. Yes, it sucked. Yes, it sucks. I was at a loss for what to do so I retreated rather than making it worse but there is no part of this that you need to apologize for, which may be how it has made you feel. You shouldn't apologize for your truth or your past or how you feel about it and I'm not asking for that.

Outside of what happened though, I'm tired. This situation and the fact that I cannot be home without being surrounded by it saps me of my patience, my energy, my goodwill, and my love. It is a scratchy wool suit that is 2 sizes too small and way too warm. It is never having privacy. It is always feeling watched and judged. It does not help a situation where I don't believe how you feel about me, know how I feel about you, what kind of relationship I would like us to have or if we can even have one, while trying to be friendly and cheerful and co-operative everyday. Some of it is just how life is right now and not anyone's fault. I'm hoping some of this will change soon but I'm tapped out until it does.

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