On Facebook, a friend posted the following, "If you were to liken your sex life to a movie title, what would it be? Without hesitation, my response was, Gone with the Wind.
A few hours later, I thought... why?!
I shroud my mirrors. Is there anything left to say?!
Self-esteem must be genetic. While others see themselves as beacons of greatness, I see myself as lame and socially awkward. When someone says, "You're beautiful," If I haven't said, "That's disgusting." Or "What is wrong with you?!" I think, "You have severe psychological issues."
When I cry, I tell my psychiatrist to look away. If the topic of self-esteem is broached; which it often is, his canned retort is, "Katie, you need to love yourself." My counter, "Who says I don't love myself?! They aren't synonymous, you know!" Wouldjya look who's calling the kettle beige?!
In part, now WE also know why my ass is planted across from his desk once a week.
I'm such a klutz; fortunately I have walls to bounce off of. Because I amass so many bruises, I literally keep a scrapes, bumps and bruises journal. Picture it, a fat chick soaring through life with the grace of an elephant stampede. That would be me on a good day.
- I'm a pain in my own ass!
If I'm not thinking, I'm over-thinking or anticipating variables and outcomes, or -- and this is a blast -- analyzing minutia for sport and berating myself for fun. As my sister says, "Being you must be exhausting." It's true.
Some people live inside their heads, whereas I have erected a city in my brain, SO I COULD NEVER LEAVE. The thought has crossed my mind countless times, but we can't sync up on an exit strategy.
Obviously, for a while now, I've been sabotaging potential dateables -- with a 100 percent success rate in under a week. I know exactly what to do to overwhelm each of us, and ultimately ensure that we never go out. I am special, I know.
Though, oddly enough, because I'm such a duality, when it comes to being in a relationship, I don't have the strength to be pushed into anything. Everything has to unfold organically, otherwise I run for the hills.
Onto the last point; you'd think dating would top my "to do" list because of it. Sadly, it does not.
- I couldn't self-sooth my way out of a hostage situation
When it comes to using tools of the trade, I have caused bodily harm to others, forced tenants to evacuate a building, traumatized appliances and a shower door; all of which were alarmingly distant from the purported "safe" zone.
At first touch, I bypassed the short bus and nestled into a MASSIVE seat on a MICRO-bus careening towards, You're Destined for Misery, a suburb of, Why Are You Bothering?! Of course, I hoped to relocate to, Atta Girl, Good For You, but have yet to find my way there.
Eclipsing that is my inability to stick with a fantasy that doesn't veer off track. Usually, beginning with, "He..." Followed by, "Did I email so-and-so? Surely, I drank eight glasses of water. Louie is choking! Wait, he's dead. Breathe. I locked the trunk of my car, right? I want to use subcutaneous in a sentence tomorrow. Wait -- Where was I? Right, he... never mind."
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