Argh! It is difficult to post anything when you can barely manage to get out of bed each morning. I had a hot little rendezvous with Mr. S almost two weeks ago now . . . That depression clamped down on me with a python's steady patience ever since has nothing to do with that. No, Siree.
I've been doing some high-quality rumination lately on what, exactly, I'm doing wrong in this life. While on one hand I am happy to take the righteous path and proclaim that I *do* like who I am and a pox on the people who don't . . . righteousness can't wrap its arms around me in the middle of the night and whisper that everything's going to be ok.
I am 28 years old and I have never had a boyfriend. Forget the pining and palpatations of True Love . . . Never have I known one of my sexual partners to even so much as look forward to my company. Yes, I am well aware of how sad that statement is.
Recently I stumbled across two articles that definitely have not helped my frame of mind. No, no, no.
In an article at The Root about dating, Kim McLarin says:
"I have yet to meet a man . . . over the age of forty who has never been married who is not broken in some serious and probably unfixable way . . . I don't mean damaged; we're all damaged: scratched up here, dented there, lumpy where the patch was made. No, I mean broken – or possibly just mal-manufactured on the assembly line."Now, I'm a good ways from 40 yet. And I'm not a man. But I do think it's a fundamental truth that those of us who can't seem to have relationships *are* broken. I could be the poster child for mal-manufacture!
The other piece that makes me want to take a gun and shoot myself is this article on settling. Is that the only relationship I have to look forward to? No heart swells, no giddiness, no passionate sex . . . just someone who doesn't loathe me enough to kick me out of bed in the morning? I worry that she will be me in 15 years, although she suffers from Grass Is Always Greener more than I ever do. And despite recent cultural shifts, I think in the trenches there is still a special distaste (among men, in our culture, on this planet, take your pick) for women over 40 and having a child neither improves nor worsens the situation.
So I am reading this crap, and spelunking for my self-esteem ("in the toilet" would be a vast improvement ... I think it's sunk somewhere below the Earth's crust), and dealing with the No Emotions Zones (TM The Pervocracy) erected by the various men in my life, and . . .
And no wonder all I want to do is go back to bed.
5 comments:
Hi, I want to tell you that I am surprised that you are still in your 20s because from reading your blog, I thought you were like 50. I wonder if part of the problem is right there in the name of your bog. Invisible. Spinster. Is that how you see yourself? An unmarried 20 something (or 30 or even 40) is hardly a spinster and your life is far from over.
I wonder if you are clinically depressed? I encourage you to see a qualified counselor to sort things out. When you do, let me know what happens. I hope you feel better soon and if you change the name of your blog, let me know! Take care.
sugarmag,
50 is the new 30, right? :) I am well aware my life is far from over . . . much of my seething frustration stems from the fact that I know I have many, many more years to go.
To answer your question: I actually am not clinically depressed. Really. What you see here is the pathetic outpouring of a profoundly lonely person who completely lacks the necessary skills to alleviate her situation.
Am I invisible? Yes. Especially sexually. Am I a truly a spinster? Perhaps not yet (technically), but I really, truly do not see anything in my life changing enough to change that. This life, me, who I am . . . well, if I had instead said my age was 38 nobody would question my spinsterhood.
I.S.
Hi Again,looking back at my comment I realize how patronizing it came out and I'm sorry about that. I am sincerely concerned about you. Maybe a counselor could help you gain the skills you need?
I have never met you but I wonder if what you said about being invisible sexually is true. Did not the guy from Craig's list want sex? What about Mr. S? Those men are probably not what you are looking for, but clearly they see you that way.
sugarmag,
I didn't find your questions patronizing ... they are perfectly reasonable questions to ask.
Counseling: I'll pass on that, thanks. As a child my mother dragged me to any number of therapists in an effort to prove I was "damaged". Prove to whom, no one knows. My father later suggested it was some kind of Munchausen's by proxy. Either way, I really don't think that paying someone to ask me "How do you feel about that?" is going to help.
Please don't confuse being invisible with being repulsive. The Craigslist boy would have had sex with anyone who didn't make him gag; I could say the same about most of my sexual partners. I think I'm a fairly decent looking woman -- if I plant myself in front of a man and say, "Sex please!" I am unlikely to be turned down. But that does *not* translate in any way to attraction.
Nor does it explain why this happens to me with such regularity.
Mr. S is, well, something of the exception that proves the rule. That he has had sex with me and comes back for more is its own oddity. Even with him, though, there are plenty of times when I wonder whether his presence is guided more by availability than attraction.
I.S.
I’ve had much better luck – more so in my youth naturally – in attracting bedmates than potential lifemates. I never understood why: I’m bright, agreeable, good humored, etc. It was as if some secret symbol was attached to my forehead warning people from developing that kind of attachment to me.
But I have had a few serious romantic entanglements. That isn’t necessarily better. Finding you’ve become involved with someone you shouldn’t can also find you involved in something that is very difficult to get out of. Especially if wisdom doesn’t arrive until you share something like a mortgage.
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