Feeling somewhat out of the loop with everyone and everything however I'm reading with interest your updates @gelatodipistacchio and welcome @Gettingonwithit12
Dating is strange and scary and I've experienced both situations and the feelings that you are describing.
I’m very pleased that I was out with MrD and friends last night so that I didn’t have to watch the onslaught on VGD unfold in real time and the thread get derailed from our really vital chats to share wisdom about OLD and relationships in general!
I was wondering if anyone had anything against all of us acting as moderators and using a ‘timeout phrase just to take the heat out of things’?
Could be something simple like ‘fairy dust’ or ‘bananas’. We all have a lot on our plate, we are all dealing with our own issues but I don’t think I can participate anymore on the thread if this happens again. It’s too draining.
@onwards FWIW I feel that you have got your self stuck in a very negative and unhelpful way of thinking about your life. Lots of us struggle with things, we are here to support, advice, cajole and share.
If you don’t want to hear that from VGD, or anyone else on this thread, I think it is time you considered finding a group that’s more suited to your needs, and leaving this thread. I genuinely think we may have reached the end of how we can help you.
This is pretty harsh for me to say and to even see myself writing it, but honestly it’s draining. We are here to talk about OLD and other issues that impact on our dating life. I recognise that for you, your health situation and career path, impact on that. It does for all of us. And no, it’s not a competition.
However I had really wanted to come to the thread with something and seeing your repetitive and often aggressive posts killed that stone dead.
There is a thread out there for you, it’s just this may not be the one.
My little parable / post was about baggage. In the most literal sense.
On Friday MrD and I had a date. I’d had truly a difficult week. Sunday I’d been triggered by a sex misfire, when I got inadvertently hurt by MrD (think ‘awkward entry combined with not being fully undressed leads to 🤕 ouch’). As a rape survivor I was BADLY triggered and went into total PTSD territory, flashbacks, dizzy, disconnected, angry and fearful. It was truly awful. This then of course meant that I had to tell MrD about the assault; but I couldn’t do that for 48 hours as I had to gather myself.
The shock triggered my post concussion symptoms and I was in a lot of pain. The dog then became dangerously ill and spent 24 hours in doggy hospital. Stuff was also going on with my DD that had been very difficult to navigate through.
Frankly I felt like my world was collapsing. I didn’t know if I’d go to meet MrD or if I’d even see him again.
What’s the point? I thought. I’m worthless, damaged, difficult, my life is falling apart and I can’t even help the two people who are the most reliant on me: my beautiful life saver of a dog and my lovely, talented and fragile daughter. Who am I raising up here, who am I empowering? No one I thought.
I went to see MrD in a state of functional catatonia, hoping that I’d somehow break through and back into my life. (For those who suffer from ptsd I was in a mild dissociative state most of last week, like living my life behind a wall of cling film, transparent but claustrophobic and suffocating.)
However, I knew that nothing bad was going to happen to me if I saw MrD, but there was a good chance of something good happening.
He turned up late and I started to feel even more withdrawn. He’d been over optimistic on the timing and we’d both majorly failed as we hadn’t checked opening hours of places to go to or queue times for the gallery. It was all beginning to feel like hard work. Plus, I had a weekend bag with me which usually feels fine to carry but that night felt like it had rocks in it. Whilst he was late I went from place to place with my bag, which was feeling heavier, and my very low functioning coping skills. Luckily I know London really well so kept walking and eventually found somewhere. The food was pretty average and so was the atmosphere but MrD eventually arrived. He was in a bouncy mood but as we got up to leave I noticed he didn’t offer to take my bag. I then got stuck in security for the gallery because they wanted to look inside it. I then pointedly said I was going to check it into the cloakroom because it was so heavy.
Did he offer to carry it at any point in the evening? Nada. Zero. Zilch.
However, maybe for those of you who’ve read this far you might have guessed this already. All week long he’d been carrying the guilt of triggering me. The worry about my dog and DD. Held my hand emotionally and mentally and just helped me think things through.
The bag wasn’t mentioned. It’s a very chic leather bag. Maybe he thought it was my handbag. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just assumed that I could carry my own stuff. Maybe, like my paranoid brain was suggesting to me, he had no manners and wasn’t the right man for me.
Maybe, dear reader, I just needed to reconnect with myself and allow him back in and fgs if I wanted the effing bag carried like some entitled royal, I should have just asked him.
Is this relevant to our thread? I’m not sure. But for me it’s a minor breakthrough. I’m with an equal, who’s not scared of helping me think through big stuff but who doesn’t attempt to rescue me or suggest that he’s the solution. We are two adults in a messy and complex life who are just trying our best to figure things out.
Like a parking thread, I’m happy to post a diagram or photo of the designer baggage in question.