Repulsive Control

“Your emotions are a clue. Witness them, feel them, respond to them; never attach to them.”


It seems that, when i write my blogs, I quickly forget what I put in them. I put that quote in my blog a month ago and completely forgot about it.
I reread my last few posts a little while ago. I’d noticed so much about myself – things that could make a difference – and then I went and forgot it.
It reopened wounds and pains I’d forgotten. And so, when I got really drunk and found my knives, I decided to add to the scars I have there.
Except, that’s not entirely true. It is a lie to say I cut because I got drunk; I’d been looking for the knives for over a week. I knew exactly why I wanted them. And it had nothing to do with what I’d read in my blog.
Since the 21st of January until now, I’ve had sex a grand total of once. Someone had a million reasons why She no longer wanted to have sex with me: Her sex drive had disappeared, She had no time, I cried when things upset me, but the ultimate reason was quite simple: I repulsed her.
The one person I’ve slept with since was quite adamant she isn’t attracted to me. To the point where I want to duct tape her mouth shut and say “I get it. Now shut up and do some squats; your ass is getting fat.”
The German bought me a bottle of Shiraz bottled by “Arrogant Frog”. She told me the image (of a well-dressed french frog) reminded her of me, which I liked. I told another friend. He agreed, but said I reminded him of a bullfrog: not many people want to touch them.
I love driving. I love being in a car. I love high speeds and sharp corners. I could drive for ages, happy with an engine and four wheels.
I love – in particular – being on the edge. I love that small margin between a fast turn and crashing in a ball of fiery regret. I love driving faster than the norm, but not so fast that I can’t react, that I can’t stop myself from crashing. I love being in control.
I detest myself when I’m not in control. I get angry when I drive too fast to react, when I take a corner too fast, when I don’t put the car exactly where I want it.
When i woke and saw my bleeding arms and drunken texts, I realised something: i haven’t been in control for a long time.
It needs to change. I need to change. I need to take back control of my life. Of my health, my emotions, my drinking, my thoughts – everything.
It’s easier said than done. And what I need to remember is that I can’t do it all at once: one area at a time – the rest will follow.
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