Daily Post 0098: The Decision is Made


It is interesting to be detached and logical about my emotions while still being immersed in them. I do not feel at their mercy as I used to when I was younger.

I have a better understanding. I know how to compromise with myself. I know how to empathize with my right brain and not ridicule myself for my emotions. They are there for a reason, and no amount of trying to cover them up is going to make them go away. They will come back later, stronger, and take more energy to work through.

It is healthier to work through the pain now to reach understanding and peace then to turn a blind eye to it.

I was angry. Furious.

I had to reach out to others to see if my perspective was skewed because my emotions where so strong.

In retaliation I recreated my OkCupid profile. Yes, I cringed when I typed that because there is a part of me that feels shame for it. There is a part of me that has a stigma associated with ‘online dating’.

But really, should there be? I don’t think I would fair very well by going to a bar and saying, “Nice shoes. Want to cuddle?”

I have missed having affection and physical contact. I have avoided remaking my profile simply because of this stigma I feel, not for any real logical reason. I don’t want a relationship. I want people to hang out with. A sexual relationship if the chemistry is there would be nice, but it’s not the focus.

I’ve been hibernating in the bubble I made around myself. I’m been in a self-inflicted exile, living off of the sips of deep contact that I allow into my life. Visits home, my encounter with James, the dojo I have so rarely gotten to in the past month and a half.

I ended my exile on Sunday partly, as I said, in retaliation. Though creating a profile has been something I have been thinking about, my anger was the catalysis that pushed the action forward.

It has been much like my first experience with the site. A mild mix of entertainment and frustration. Honestly, I can only handle, “ey grl how u doin” so many times before the urge to throw dictionaries at peoples faces overrides all reason.

I have received messages from a few people who are interesting, though. One of them, we’ll call him DM (Dungeon Master) offered for me to come play with his Pathfinder group. We actually met in person yesterday.

I’ve gotten so many messages from people expressing how attractive I am. So there’s a bit of an ego boost there, though honestly those messages are often ones I do not reply to, or conversations I quickly end.

I know most of the original motivation was fueled by anger, but it is cooling. Having conversations with others is helping put things back in perspective. It’s keeping me from brooding further.

Normally after the anger there is depression. Anger turned inward. I become angry with myself, at my reactions and my emotions. I berate myself for feeling the way I do. I’m unjustified in my anger. I should be better than that. I should be above such petty emotion.

And because of that internal anger in the past I have done incredibly stupid things. Things I knew didn’t line up with what I wanted or valued, but that I did anyway. And I have no real reason to explain my actions. Looking back at those situations they were self-destructive and I see that now.

Currently I feel a bit detached, but in a good, stable way. I’m sitting in front of my computer. I am remembering last night. I don’t feel guilt or shame. I haven’t felt depression at all. And part of me wonders if it is because I am handling this situation differently.

I haven’t berated myself. I accepted my hurt and anger. I accept that they are still mildly there. I understand this may be a new scar, a new battle wound that may never fully heal. I also understand that I am allowed to be a human instead of the encyclopedia I always feel like. The walking dictionary I compare myself to.

I am allowed to be warm and caring with others. I’m allowed to have friends, both male and female. I’m allowed to have partners. I’m allowed to talk to people, and hang out, or not hang out. I’m allowed to have sex, and to enjoy it. And that doesn’t make me trashy or low.

There isn’t shame in that.

It was one of the things that drew me to Freya to begin with. Why, why would I allow another’s opinion to influence my own?

I can focus on myself, my goals, my priorities while still honoring my social needs. Maybe that is one of the reasons this past situation bothered me so much. I have been struggling against something that I know I need. I allowed myself to feel bad, as if I were failing at that struggle when I don’t think I should be fighting this fight at all. I don’t want to fight it. And I’m not going to any loner.

I am an introvert, but I still need people in my life, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I need physical contact with others. I’m not ok with going weeks without a hug from someone who I am deeply connected with. I need that connection.

I’m tired of feeling lonely and alienated in a place that I’m going to be living for at least another five to six years. I’m tired of knowing those feelings are caused purely by myself and that once again I am the cause of my own discord.

I’m tired of the imbalance I feel from it. I’m tired of feeling drained and that even though my projects are important and even though I make a difference in peoples lives every day, that my efforts feel meaningless because I do not have people in my everyday, normal, interactions to share life with.

Part of me feels like I’m complaining right now. Whining.

I have so many people in my life who love me. I wish they lived in Orlando with me so I could have that reassurance and warmth. I wish their love and affection wasn’t a memory I have to recall. I wish it was still something tactile. A hug. A kiss on the forehead. Bumping elbows in the kitchen as we banter in front of the fridge getting a soda, or at the sink trying to fill a glass with water.

I feel like I have to apologize for needing physical contact to feel worth-while and connected. Once again, I feel this cold sinking sensation for needing to apologize for being me.

I wonder if other INFJs struggle with these feelings. I wonder if it is a combination of being an INFJ with physical touch being my primary love language.

It shouldn’t matter as to why, though. I don’t feel sorry for having blue eyes, so why should I feel sorry for needing hugs? Why is it I am accepting of certain parts of my personality, but not of others which are just as intrinsically part of who I am?

I suppose it might be because of my past relationships. Being called ‘clingy’ by Warren #2 wasn’t fun. It made me question myself. He made me question so many things that had never been an issue before.

My need for contact became something I was, and still am, insecure about.

“Stop being girly.”
“You’re so emotionally needy.”
“Why are you so weak?”
“You’re being childish.”

Those are the words I associate with my need for contact now. Those are the words that were said to me, and so now they bounce around inside of my head, echoing endlessly while I crouch, covering my ears in an attempt to silence the words and the cutting, slicing pain that goes with them. While I fight the coldness that they bring.

But they’re on the inside. Covering my ears only traps them in. Makes them louder. The only thing I feel that can silence them is speaking the opposite. Speaking, screaming so loud that I replace the old echoes with new ones.

This isn’t weak, girly, or childish of me.

I am accepting of other people who require physical contact. Why am I not accepting of myself? Why am I once again the only one I treat differently?

I deserve the same level of acceptance. I am worthy of that. I don’t feel it’s something I should change, and honestly it’s not something I want to change. I don’t think wanting a hug or affection is bad.

Affection isn’t sex. And sex isn’t affection. I wrote about that. How one isn’t a substitute for the other. Those words aren’t interchangeable either. Which is something I feel most of society doesn’t understand. And maybe that’s another layer of why it is hard to accept myself. Because once again there is this stigma associated with something. I’m allowing the opinions if others to hold sway over my own.

There is a difference, at least to me. Wanting affection doesn’t make me cheap or low.

So this has been a bit of a rant, a bit of introspection, and a bit of just fumbling at the keyboard trying to type through all of these feelings. It’s still confusing. I still feel the old words in my head.

None of this is going to get resolved right here, right now.

But I feel a bit better. I feel recharged actually. I feel more like myself than I have in a while. I’m not rolling my eyes at the thought of doing my homework. I’m actually looking forward to the gym, rather than secretly cringing because things are feeling pointless again.

I have made the decision to honor myself and my right to have balance by filling my need for companionship rather than crippling myself and proving that I can exist with out it.

I’ve made a decision. And that feels good.


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