I Have Only Had Sex 3 Times

I tout myself as a sexpert among friends.

People come to me for advice and I give it, animatedly and excitedly. I laugh and joke and reference non-existent men, "He was only this big!".

But I have only had sex 3 times. All in one night. With one man.

Since that sexual encounter I have almost had sex several times, but dysfunctions on my part prevent that from happening.

We will be kissing, almost becoming intimate, and then it all comes to a screeching halt as my mind begins to chatter in a panic stricken manner.

"What if he has herpes? Condoms don't always work! What would my religious parents think? Oh, I should visit them this weekend....do I look fat in this position? His breath smells bad...and he has bacne at 30. I need to get out of here NOW"

All of a sudden I enter panic-mode, where I MUST leave at all costs. I scramble into sitting position, re-dress, and leave, a stream of apologies, lies, and excuses like fire pouring out of my mouth.

And even my best friend thinks I have had a lot of sex.

When people invite me out on weekends, 50% of the time I go out, and 50% of the time I brag, "Ah, can't, I have a date" and I give a mischievous smile as though it validates my date and the fact that I might have sex.

Why does lying come so much more easily than the truth? I am at a point in life where I can never stop living this lie, and that terrifies me.

I am tired of being someone else. I am tired of being 1,000 someone elses.

I'm stuck. If I do meet a man I want to marry, how can I raise my children? How can I look them in the eyes and tell them that lying is wrong?

I am a sick hypocrite and while I sit at this computer typing, I've become disgusted with myself.

Advice?

Thanksgiving Makes Me Cry

This holiday depresses me.

The parade, the football, the pies, all of it.

When the doorbell rings and distant relatives walk in, I shudder with contempt.

It's all fake. No one is happy to see anyone. In fact, the kids are the only honest ones present.

Their cries of, "But I don't want to wear this dress, it's itchy!", "But I want to sit at the big-kid table!" and "I'm done eating, can we go home now?" are the only honest words uttered on turkey day.

Why is it that children are the only ones capable of blunt honesty? They lack some filter that our parents impose upon us to prevent us from saying stuff like, "Mommy told me that when you call, she's in the shower." and other socially inappropriate honesties.

Back to Thanksgiving. The parade makes me the most upset. The grinning floats seemingly leer and mock me with their weightlessness. Their floating heads simply reaffirm the fact that I can't let go.

My total control over every aspect of my life suffocates me like the oxygen deprived floating head of Spongebob Squarepants.

And why don't the children fear these massive floating monstrosities? It seems like over stimulation would get the best of me and I would pass out in a sea of colors, confetti, and joy.

It makes me think of taking ecstasy at a discotheque, too many colors, sounds, people,and smells for the brain to process.

In fact, I feel like that in day-to-day life. I wish I could go numb to it all.

What's wrong with me?

Do You Recognize Her?

Today at work I bonded with a woman who I thought was my hero.

She is 34, I'm 25.

We began the day talking about relationships, how we both found it difficult to get close with men.

As we got further into our discussion, we got to know each other a little better.

She said she hated spooning. Me too.

She hates holding hands. Me too.

She hates cuddling. Me too!

Then she said that she'd been in love once before.

She told me that she'd been in love when she was 25, but she'd ruined it. She said, "I think we're the type of self-destructive women who are never meant to be in love."

What?

I came back and read my past blogs.

When did I become so self destructive?

What am I doing? I can only blame myself, right?

How do I end this cycle? Is everyone else this self-aware? And then, is everyone else this depressed when they see themselves for the first time?

I look in the mirror and see someone I no longer recognize.

Who is she?

Do you recognize her?

I've Been Sick...Not Really

I'm sorry I have not blogged in a while, I've been very, very ill.

Not really.

That's a lie. I have actually never felt better.

Except that a man loves me and I don't love him. I've allowed him to love me for months now and I don't know what to do.

His mannerisms irk me to no extent. The smell of his cologne makes me gag.

Worst of all? His kindness makes me want to vomit. Is it wrong that I would like him more if he were abusive?

I would enjoy our sex if he tugged my hair a little harder, pinned me down, bit me.

I fantasize about rape. Is that sick?

I can't bring myself to break up with him because I cannot fathom that I, the most empty person I know, would reject filling, warm, delicious love.

Love so pure and kind that its saccharine flavor makes me sick to my stomach.

Love so thick, like molasseses, that it makes my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth and makes my vomit slide back down to my acid filled stomach.

What is wrong with my heart?

Everyone Thinks I Have A Twin-I Don't

Everyone, my friends, co-workers, and aquantences believe that I have an identical twin who still lives in Greece (where I was born).

My parents divorced when I was a child-True

They couldn’t decide who got custody of their daughters-True (I have an older sister, remember?)

They each chose from a set of identical twins which one they wanted-False

One of us came to the states and the other stayed in Greece-False

I must be a damn good actress because I have convinced people that all of the above are true.

One time I even went to school with a heavy Greek accent pretending to be my twin and people believed me.

None of my ‘friends’ even know me for what I really am-a liar, a manipulator, a sociopath.

I even used a work computer in my office to Photoshop two images of me together!
Sometimes I feel bad about my lies.

Then I realize that people are gullible and that’s their fault, not mine.

Why should my fun and humor suffer because of someone else’s ignorance?

In return, I trust no one and I doubt everyone.

Vampires And Ghouls

How badly do I wish vampires and ghoulies existed?

Very badly.

I need to believe that there is something else out there unexplained by science or fact. As of yet I have found none.

Some people turn to religion and their belief in god, something I find fanciful and silly, thoughts worthy of a 5-year-old writing letters to Santa Clause in hopes of him fulfilling their dream for the newest Barbie dreamhouse.

I never got mine so I stopped believing.

Where is the proof in the so-called “higher power”?

Everything I have seen in my short 25 years has proved to me that science can explain everything.

Some people have told me that having your own child brings you closer to the higher power, which begs the question:

Shouldn’t I love myself before I try to love another creature?

If vampires and ghosts existed, they would be my proof that something bigger than me existed.

I don’t need a good higher power with hopes of salvation, I just need to know that humans are not the highest level of intelligence that this universe will ever see.

If not, maybe we’d all be better off dead.

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me The News!

I have 4 doctor’s appointments in the next month and I could not be more ecstatic.

I love being alone in a room with someone asking me how I feel, what my symptoms are, am I okay?

Maybe it’s narcissistic of me, maybe it’s just human nature.

I mean, women go get mani-pedis, and men get massages, I do neither, I see doctors instead.

Instead of painting over ugly feet or temporarily rubbing out pain, I go to the doctor to get to the root of the problem.

I don’t even mind the awkward examination, even at the eye doctor or gynecologist.
Now I am a very clumsy woman, I end up in the ER 3-4 times per year (falling down the stairs, bronchitis, etc.).

Do I unconsciously do it on purpose?
Probably not, but you never know.