Don’t we all know that it’s easier to find something we dislike about ourselves than to find something we truly like?

Well I found something, or actually my sweet Mr Man pointed out a quality about myself that I was unaware of and once pointed out I realized how much I loved it.

I’m extremely competent in reading people. I never thought about it before, but I can usually tell when someone is lying. I will not call them on it because more often than not it’s a tiny white lie, but sometimes it’s something big that will hurt me. Like my mother, sometimes she will say something encouraging but I can tell she wants to fill it out with something else.

It was usually just something I thought was my own insecurity, that I over-analysed, because that was what my mum used to say I did. Towards her, or my sister. But Mr Man pointed out how often I’d end up being right, and how often I had been spot on regarding people and circumstances. So now I don’t doubt it any more. I always was a killer at knowing which guys fancied my friends…

Read the whole list here.

I fear that I’m pregnant and I’m ambivalent about how I feel.

I only have a few months left of school and I was looking forward to working, earning money. Having money. I miss that feeling. Being able to afford normal things and not turning every penny. If I’m pregnant I wont be able to work for another year.

I don’t want a kid. They are cute and cuddly and I bet I would love my child just as much as the next mother, but I don’t want a child. Not now and maybe never. I don’t want to be restrained and I was finally okay with feeling and thinking about being childless forever. We were going to be happy anyway.

But one of my biggest reasons for not wanting a child was that he didn’t want a child and now he’s acting all cool and happy and saying we will find out soon enough if I’m pregnant or not. And I just want to understand, is this a true reaction, was all that other stuff only lies? Or is he hiding his true intentions? Is he walking out my door cursing on the inside?

Quitting drugs, and in my part, alcohol, is not as easy as people want you to believe it is.

Did I not have spell checker, you’d be exposed to some awful typing.

I sometimes think of all of those blogging mommies who claim to have been an addict one time or another, but I cannot recall them ever typing while they were deep into it. And I’m deep into it.

Sometimes I think, oh sweet darling don’t get home for another hour or two, that way you can only guess how much I actually drank, instead knowing for sure.

I know, I’m deep in. I know it so badly that I do my best to hide it from my partner. I think he knows of this site so I guess I’m doing poorly job of it. However, my last boyfriend was an enabler. He would eat and drink and smoke pot way worse than I would. He would encourage my addictions and draw me deeper within them. I would try to break free.

Now I try to fight for my right to drink. I know it sounds crazy but it’s my last refuge, it’s my last… addiction. I gave up all of the others, way down to sugar. And it’s driving me insane what else can I look forward to?

When you give up to everything, the one time you let yourself free, you will take the step one close further to addiction, to deprivation, to the bottomless pit that is darkness. Because you finally let yourself have something.

That is why I get drunk more often now, than I did before. Because I refuse myself, and I refuse myself everything. All the time.

Someday this will be the death of me, but right now I cling to hold on and how do I do this? By getting drunk….

* I don’t want to tell you how many type-o’s I had with this post, because that’s just sad, I’m that deep into this shit.

The worst thing about you being right and me wrong is that you are in fact right. I drink too much. You are however wrong when you state that I will become and alcoholic by forty, because I’m an alcoholic now.

I lie to you… there’s only one glass left in that Bag in Box (when I know I switched it out for a completely new one just the other day). I hide from you, I fill up my wine glass when you’re doing laundry. I pretend you don’t see, sometimes you pretend too.

I know I should quit,and I know a lot of my “wants” will be fulfilled if I do. Weight loss to name one. But I did, and then I yelled at you when I wanted a glass of wine.

I’m afraid of pushing you away, and I think I’m a nicer person when I get my wine. I just don’t think that adds up tot he days I hide the amount I drink from you.

Remember the other day when you went to watch some football. Then when you came back I wanted a glass of wine. That wasn’t my first, rather my forth and I think you knew.

You’ve tried talking to me but I can tell you’re afraid of loosing me too and I don’t know the answer any more. I don’t know the right approach, because when I get like this, and you comment on the drinking, I get mad. I get oh-so-mad. And it would tear us apart. I’m sorry I tear us apart. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I just wish you’d happened before I grew accustomed to a drink here and there and everywhere.

I love you so much but I don’t know how to kick this, and I can’t let you be the focus of all my anger if you’re on the right side. I need you to stay in fake oblivion until I’ve figured this out. I can figure this out.

I already know I’m an alcoholic. Yet I fear to say it out loud. I don’t want to admit, because you will deprive me of the one thing I feel I need the most. Yet it is killing me, and I know it.

I can see that you see it, even when I try to disguise it. My gift and my curse have always been that I can see what you think, even if it’s about me or about another. I can see when you lust, I can see when you feel sorrow and I can see when you see something that I lie about. I see it, but you don’t call on it. So I lie some more.

Remember when I made a fuss about what seemed like nothing. My friend was over, you behaved like a perfect gentleman, and I fussed. Cause I could see. Her want, your want. Yet neither of you made the other aware. But I could see. It  has always been my gift and my curse.

When I was younger I could tell who wanted me, who wanted to say something, who felt disgust. I could always tell. It never bothered me. Boyfriends ago, it never bothered me.

I can tell when you see me. I can tell when you don’t. I can tell when you hide from me, and I can tell when you don’t even try. I can read you. I can read you better than anyone ever has, no matter how close to you. It hurts me. It makes me love you. It pains me. It makes me a drunk, it makes me want to change.

I don’t think I can until I can make you understand, just how deep in the shit I am. I am in the shit over nothing. And nothings going to change.

I’m an alcoholic.

Fear is controlling and paralysing.

Our fears dictate our choices and motions. Every second step is decided before hand by our own ulterior motives, all controlled by fear.

I quit drinking for a month because I feared I was an alcoholic. When it wasn’t that hard to quit, I began drinking again. It is a reward, for having the energy to stay alive. It sounds negative and dangerous but I’m not suicidal, no matter how that sentence is construed. I learned a decade ago that I would never end my life deliberately, it does however not imply that I’m happy enough to stay alive.

I have someone who loves me that I love so much it hurts. I sometimes love myself, sometimes hate myself.

Probably bipolar, I sometimes just don’t have the energy to be all that I can be. Other days I think it will suffice if I’d work as a waitress for the rest of my life, happy just being me (like Phoebe in Friends), but I know it wont. I am too smart, with too much to offer and just not enough energy to give. Anything.

We are our own worse enemies and its when we look beyond our own view of ourselves, look through other peoples eyes, that we shine. I’m trying my hardest to just shine.

This entry was originally posted at Mushroom Print.

I feel mislead.

In every sitcom I watch, every dirty novel I read and every Playboy/Penthouse magazine I scour the Q&A for – I’m lead to believe, men are more sexual than women.

Men want it more.

There’s always some sort of power struggle where the woman holds out on the sexual or the man gets rewarded with a sexual favour when being such a good little boy. I know of course these are not the ideal situations to build a long lasting relationship, but my point is, the man is always wanting and willing.

This has never ever been the case in the relationships I’ve been in and I feel so… betrayed. Betrayed by TV and reliable magazines who have mislead me into thinking that the sex power dynamic in a relationship will be mine.

My reality have rather been that men are hot and eager for the first couple of weeks followed by being fulfilled and satisfied which only leads to me being “the beggar” later on in the relationship.  Some have lasted every day, others are satisfied with a couple of times a week. Me on the other hand, I’ve been yearning for round two.

I have nothing to fear when it comes to my own abilities, and I know I have nothing to fear over their fidelity. I. Just. Want. MORE.

So this fist goes out to all those misleading shows and magazines out there, who disregard the fact that men are human and not lead by their weiners. They are tired and sometimes choose a video game over sex. You lied to me Penthouse, you deceived me Playboy and I never again want to hear a TV husband beg for sex!

I met a man. We never planned to get serious, we never planned to fall in love. We knew each other and all we planned for was a summer of a lot of sex.

I fell in love, he shortly followed. We spent a lot of time together and pretty soon I had inadvertently moved in with him.

Inadvertently. Because I never planned on renting my own place to his cousin. I never planned to want to stay with him after his cousin had moved out.

There were certain things I knew about him before I moved in, even before I fell in love. I knew he had a computer entirely filled with porn. It didn’t bother me at all. We watched a lot of that porn together.

I knew he hadn’t been in a serious relationship, and somehow that was a relief because no weird exes to compete with right?

But then a month or so ago, he started visiting these cam sites. No wait, it started before that when he visited a random girls blog and became somewhat obsessed with her and her silicon figure. Visiting that site daily and commenting about her. She became pregnant after a month or so of the site and stopped blogging (picture blogging also) so he never got updates, that’s when the cam sites became interesting.

These cam sites (stickam, tinychat etc) might seem harmless and they are not worse than porn right? But these are people he interact with, get a bond with and form a sort of relationship with.

I told him it bothered me, but he just says I’m silly and that he loves me and shit like that.

I shouldn’t be bothered by it, but I am. I shouldn’t care, but I do. And since I do, I also know… if he loved me and they aren’t important to him why is he on those sites daily, why is he spending hours watching girls, usually girls who never undress so it isn’t the porn value of it all, usually different ones so it’s not favoritism or a certain type where i can’t suffice.

My problem is, I feel inferior. I feel inadequate. And when speaking it I feel silly. I also feel insecure.

I bet I wouldn’t care if I had had really good confidence, but I don’t. So why kick on me while I’m down?