TheDysmorphicDreamTimeSexpot.

There are times I wonder whether I am wholly paranoid to what I think ails me. I had for a time thought myself unworthy of so many things. I may have inadvertantly pushed away so many people who tried to get close to me simply by clouding my personality with false identities or simply by blatantly apprearing disinterested in things that they could offer me.

 

Either way, it would be a self-fulfilling prophecy. The kind that says 'I hate myself, no-one should love me ...' And by thinking that people can do better than mixing with me, I turn all nasty and assume that its their fault for not accepting me in the first place.

 

The thing is, I know this already. I always thought that the first step was to accept myself and to love everything about me. I had simply thought that I lacked this ability and projected it outwards towards everyone else.

 

This is why I empirically look at myself all the time. I look at myself through someone else's eyes. I assume that this imaginary third person would not like me and hence I won't allow my subconcious to ... er ... like me.

 

Complicated? You bet. Sometimes I struggle to understand it myself. As a result, I never let anyone in my private space and empirically justify it.

 

But the funny thing is, despite my apparent self-hatred, I have the capability to love and have frequently showed that side of me to others. In the past, I have harboured deep crushes towards others, never once expected anything to come out of it. Only in the private moments in DreamTime I can profess a relationship with someone, with the added house, car, and two kids called Francesca and Theadora. In short, my love life is imaginary and does not exist in any shape or form in RealTime. Why? Because I don't deserve to be loved.

 

But I have tried. One several occassions actually. I have tried to form relationship with people. Relationship where I shared practically everything. But often its never enough. And when it fails, the self-resentment fuels the already broken heart into something more damaging and I end up more bitter and screwed-up than before.

 

A couple of days ago I got told that I don't have empathy for anything. This was told to be by someone I have tried my level best to get him to love me. This was someone I cared deeply about and I felt that I gave everything I got. It wasn't enough and I came away with the familial feeling of being incapable of being loved.

 

So what do I do? A huge part of me teels me to give up. Accept the fact that I have to forget the notions of ever feeling a passionate kiss or be the recipient of a bouquet. I am perhaps just tired of constantly giving bits of myself to everyone and hoping for some sort of reciprocity.

 

In the end, perhaps, living out my fantasies in DeamTime. Heck, I can even be beautiful in there ...

Done