Pieces of me.

Not dead…working on another play is all. I think this will be the last show that I put a lot of work into for about 18 or so months, i need a damn break… We open in less than a month. July 16 to be exact. When it’s done, i’m done. Hooray.

I’ll try to be around…maybe i’ll even post a pic this weekend sometime.

And in not having high self esteem, i look to others to validate myself. If they like me, then I should like me. If their dick is hard, then I must be attractive, right? I don’t even contemplate that they might just be male and not giving really a damn about me really, as i’m just another insecure girl who will wet them when they want it. So upon being rejected, I seem to lose the self control I have to stop myself from spinning downward and wanting nothing ore than to be alone. I hate this about myself. I hate that I have my flaws, that I know full well what my flaws are and being rejected by anyone in any way is just a way for me to dwell on these flaws. It’s certainly not a healthy way to think about things, but it’s the way that I think about them.

I’m sure it works the same way with the projects I do. I love working on plays and such, but I believe it’s another way that I am looking to get validated. This is not an image validation, but in being told that I’m doing well, or that i’ve done well, it makes me feel good and better about myself and that in turn makes me see things differently. Busting my ass for validation year after year and watching someone else get it all fucking sucks. So yeah, it did bother me that I’ve spent years working hard and someone will swoop in for part of a year and works her ass off and it’s Her that they see before me because she’s perfect… she’s strived to be perfect every day of her life and All i want to do is make sure it’s done right. And is it my fault really that from a very young age I was seen as nothing more than a sexual instrument and therefore allowed myself to become one? It sounds like my fault, yes, but i was 7 when it started. It was not a choice for me to make. And later, It was someone else who took it. And then I gave myself freely after that because I wanted to erase the hurt caused by those who kept taking. I felt that at least this way it was MY choice, not theirs. And then I was with someone who would fuck me over every few months, lying to me and cheating on me and I kept taking him back because I didn’t want to be alone. I couldn’t stand to be alone. So i am not. I never have been. And I am married to a guy who is wonderful and takes care of me and the kids but I still want to be validated by people… like Mr. Connecticut and Mr. Down Under and I don’t get it from them either. I hate that I am like this, but I am. And as great as Hubby is, i do not get the validation i need from him because he’s Hubby… He has to accept me with all of my flaws… at the same time, wanting this open relationship and having the ability to flirt and in some cases fuck other people… and his addiction to porn… god, i know that i have flaws and when he’s looking at porn constantly, in my head it’s because I am not attractive enough. Which is why i talk to others, and send pictures, and show pictures here because then others will tell me that i’m attractive and then it must be true. Is why i will call Connecticut and have phone sex… Because he could be looking at porn and watching videos but instead he is talking to me… How do i know that he’s not looking at pictures of someone else? How do i know honestly that he even gives a damn who is on the other line, as long as he’s listening. Damnit!  THIS is why i never want to leave my house. THIS is why i would rather be curled up in my bed on a daily basis and never get out. But no. I get up and have my shower and push myself though the day with the constant worry that I don’t look that nice, or someone is going to think badly of me and that I don’t look right in this top or these jeans or that my hair isn’t in the right place or i’m wearing too much make up and i hide my less than perfect smile behind my hand and worry that too much of my huge fucking forehead is  showing and I spend half of my days trying not to cry because I’m feeling so badly about myself.
So what? Who gives a shit, right? If i “really cared that much” then i’d do something about it. I’d go for walks and diet and change myself so i look better but… it’s not that easy at 8 am… at 9 am… however – at 2 FUCKING AM, I can think of nothing more. I lay awake thinking about ways i can change myself to become more attractive to him or him or him. So they will see me sexually like that fucking pervert did when I was 7 years old and they’ll want to be with me and then I will feel good. Then I will feel sexy… right? Or validated? Or like total fucking shit because i’ve not eaten in days… But even with the tummy rumbles – i’d be sexy because i’d be skinny. The alternative is to keep doing what I’m doing. Keeping wanting Him or Him or even HIM to think i’m sexy with my low cut shirt and DD’s which are probably only that big because I’m overweight and have the phone sex and try to believe that it’s my sexy voice that are getting them off and not just their male instinct to get their dick wet… but wait, none of them are fucking me – so it’s not about getting their dick wet because It’s not. It’s maybe about keeping it hard for when something…someone sexier comes along. Even if it is just a photo… then they can wrap their own hand around it and cum… Or i suppose for that validation, i’ll come to you and get on my knees and let you shove it in my mouth. Then it’s wet and you didn’t have to fuck the fat girl. Lucky you!

I have no desire to go back and read this blog. I’m sure it barely makes sense… Not even sure I want to post it… But that’s why it’s here, right.