Why do I persist in bringing up super hard topics on two hours of sleep. WTF? I have 20 minutes to write. I need to make a few notes.

Needs, wants, desires, obsessions, compulsions, religion, kissing, pain, masochism, dominance, sex, circumcision.

I’m not interested in being dominant with people because I have a specific place I want to go. I want to hear about the person I’m playing with and pick a thing and work around that.

Does it have to be troubled? When I date someone do they have to be troubled? I don’t think so. I’m dating some remarkably stable folks.

Noah keeps saying how much I need this. That not having this is going to shorten my life. He uses very different words. It’s an intense sobbing conversation and I’m not going to recount it here.

Do I really need this so much? I think I do. I think the kissing is part of it. I think that I do this because I need fairly specific kinds of demonstrations of approval on a regular basis from other people because I just don’t know how to manufacture that feeling within myself on my own. I need it from a lot of people and I need it in a lot of ways. Sex and kissing is part of that. I need to feel like people want to kiss me. I spend a lot of time being very afraid people are kinda humoring me because there is some reason they don’t want to hurt my feelings.

That would be me projecting because I’ve had an awful lot of sex for that reason.

I don’t need to be someone’s pity fuck. I’ve got it at home. I fucking need that feeling of being wanted or it is really hard to stay in a plucky fucking mood all the god damn time.

I’ve made this life where I have to be plucky. Almost 24/7 minus babysitting. The babysitting is adding up these days. It’s still nothing like if my kids went to school… but it’s improving! I’m gaining independence!

And…. we want a baby.

Yeah. We both do. We both want a baby so bad we ache.

And we have to figure out the nonmonogamy thing. Noah points out that a big part of what I really want … is to have the checking in on life between dates. I want the kissing. I don’t really need to just be a fuck buddy. That’s something I’ve done a lot of. I can have a few dates and then stop if I don’t get much in between… but I am not good at sustaining contact with folks who want access to sex without talking to me much in between.

I just… yeah. No. I’m here for the approval because I need it like I need oxygen. It’s not like I need constant attention. But when I start feeling guilty and ashamed and like I’m bothering you when I want to talk to you because jesus christ straightening your stereo wires would be a better usage of time than talking to me…

I don’t pull away because I don’t want you. I pull away because I don’t deserve you and I’m afraid of asking and asking and asking and asking and hurting people again.

It hurt so much when I called my friend every day for a very long time and then she started ducking my calls because she needed a break. She didn’t tell me. She just started not answering the phone.

That broke my fucking heart and I’ve had to work to get past it. But I’ll never be able to call her like that again. I’ll never be able to ask for that kind of contact from her again.

And even though I want to have people want to talk to me every day… I don’t think I deserve it. I am too hard. I need to be a sometimes influence.

And I feel like I have to manage that by pulling away. And when someone doesn’t do much chasing… that means I should go.

It’s time to back the fuck off and expect this to be a once in a great while thing. Because I blew it. I was too high maintenance again.

When Noah says that he thinks I need this or I’m going to die…

I’m afraid he’s right.

Not having a family eats at me. The fact that so many people have told me that they were my “chosen family” and in reality they were friends for a little while as it was convenient and then I’ve never heard from them again…

Only Jenny and K said they had to be there at the cruise to be there as my family. And Dad is going on sixteen fucking years of help and support and comfort and approval–with and without the sex.

So I hate chosen family and I need them so much. I think the problem is that I’m partially learning that my chosen family still isn’t perfect. Those fuckers still aren’t available very often. None of them have that much to give me and distance is a huge factor.

But people who like to fuck me are uhm a more attainable resource.

Let me just say Thank You Very Much for that.

Five minutes to go.

The date with Sweet Boy made my socks roll up and down and I don’t have time to write about it.

My husband is the reason I want to get up in the morning and stay alive and do things with my life so that he will keep looking at me like he is proud of me. His approval is fucking everything. And yeah, this transition is hurting us both.

I’m a masochist, yeah… but a masochist with massive chronic pain problems and a boat load of mental health problems. That means I can’t show up once a week to be hit. I need to be hit sometimes and I need a lot of other things the rest of the time. Mostly lots of kissing. Because, quite frankly… then I hurt less.

All three layers of the dresses I was wearing this weekend have big holes in them but if I layer them you can’t tell. Ha.

It was very hard to hold the dresses up without a corset and by the end of the parade with the standing and the not eating much and sleeping two hours on the floor…

Yeah. I was glad when a float tossed me a tshirt. Ok dinner. Family time. Board games and Noah reading. Sounds great.