On Needing a Man

The last few weeks have been really good for me.

I blame the fact that Ottawa Comiccon is done for another year (no more cosplay stress for awhile) AND that I ended up winning Best in Show in the Comiccon Masquerade. That was quite the confidence boost and made the stress all worth it. :)

But in this lovely relaxing post-Comiccon glow, my mind has once again turned to the one thing that continues to bother me, even when I'm as contented as I've ever been: my singleness.

Through the haze of sad single-girl-ness, though, there's a thought that can't help but shine through. I really don't NEED a man. Clearly, I'm doing fine without one. And for some reason, that bothers me. My mind is conflicted.

I crave romantic companionship. Sex is not even the issue. It's the closeness I want. The kisses and cuddles and deep conversations. The kind of man that is more than a friend, and more than a friend with benefits.

I've come close, oh so close, but right now the problem is that I can only offer a short-term relationship. I mean, I'm leaving the country next year. And now that I'm looking at men who are in the area of 30 and up, they are mostly looking for a long-term relationship. Or a quick lay. Either way, it leaves me with precious little to work with.

But these days, every time I get disappointed about my lack of romantic prospects, I can't even take myself seriously! The emotional part of my brain says "I'm lonesome! I need a cuddle!", then the logical part says "Pfffft, you've gone without cuddles for long enough to know that you can survive perfectly well without one." And I can't help but take my logical side more seriously, ha ha ha!

For the most part, I find my own whinging to be half-hearted now. A couple months ago, my loneliness was a ravenous wolf tearing up my soul....

....but now, it's more like a wrinkly little pug, staring at me with sad googly eyes. Still there, but far less threatening...

Sad pug Leah just wants a cuddle.

On "Capturing Your Moments"

Tonight's section explained how paying attention is a way to cultivate mindfulness. It's realizing that you're awake and knowing what you are doing.

This is definitely something that I have trouble with.

The section says lapses in awareness are frequently caused by an eddy of dissatisfaction with what we are feeling/experiencing. In my case, I avoid thinking about things that are troubling me. I distract myself so that I don't have to face the things that make me feel discomfort.

There are a lot of things in my like that I'm dissatisfied with. I'm not unhappy; just dissatisfied. And most of the time, I keep myself in an ignorant fog so that I don't have to deal.

For example, I can't save money to save my life, but if can't save money, I might as well spend it on something fun and nerdy that will distract me enough to make me forget how lousy I am at sticking to a budget. I put myself into a junk food coma almost every day when I get home from work, because it distracts me from the fact that I'm ashamed that I'm too lazy to cook for myself. I have a multitude of solo hobbies to distract me from the fact that my social anxiety keeps me from going out and enjoying time with the people I care about.

And most sadly of all, I wear costumes and put on stage personas to distract myself from the fact that, deep down, I don't think that the "real me" is worth people's time. After so much hurt and heartbreak, I've becomes so sensitive to the judgement of others that I can't deal with people without having some kind of facade to hide behind.

So many times I've tried to break this cycle of dissatisfaction/distraction, but I've always ended up failing because distraction is so much easier. And facing shame and disappointment in the self is hard. And it hurts. And why feel pain when I can just ignore the fact that the pain exists?

The exercise from this section said that a way to learn to pay attention is to stop and ask yourself "Am I awake?" "Where is my mind right now?"

Right now, my mind is above itself. It's observing itself. It sees the patterns of shame/avoidance that are scattered all over my life. This is my way of waking up. Writing is my meditation. It's a way to focus my thoughts and to empty my brain. Will that help? Maybe. Maybe not. But it's calming, and it forces me pay attention. So for now, I'll keep writing.