I Think You're Headed for a Breakdown ... Be Careful Not to Show It

Did you ever dream you had a friend, Alec? Someone to last your whole life and you his. I suppose such a thing can’t really happen outside sleep.

{E.M. Forster, Maurice}

For as long as I can remember, all I wanted was one someone special to share my life with. But other than a few dates here and there, I've only had one relationship and that was thirty fucking years ago. I don't believe that most people can fathom just how soul-destroying the lonely sadness can be if they haven't lived it. Between my struggles with mental illness, my problems with addiction and my non-existent self-esteem (not to mention an uncanny ability to repel people I'm attracted to), I've never been able to put together even a casual dating relationship. Obviously, the problem is me, but I honestly don't know how I'm doing it so wrong. I mean I've always struggle with interpersonal relationships, and there's a really good chance that I'm on the spectrum. (I've never been diagnosed, but when I was growing up, even the experts didn't really know much about autism, let alone routinely test for it.) It's all been a recipe for crushing isolation where almost all of my time is spent alone.

Eventually I just gave up, which probably led me to becoming a full-blown alcoholic. For so long I've been dead inside while at the same time nursing my pathetic fantasies that have ruined my life as fabulist hope blinded me to the reality that was in front of me. I should have been molding that reality into the best possible life I could create for myself instead of deluding myself that "one day" all my dreams would just fall into place until decades of wasted youth just passed by, leaving me shocked at the bitter old man I've become. 

Over the Edge

Every little thing that you say or do
I'm hung up
I'm hung up on you
Waiting for your call, baby, night and day
I'm fed up
I'm tired of waiting on you

Time goes by so slowly for those who wait
No time to hesitate
Those who run seem to have all the fun
I'm caught up, I don't know what to do

{Madonna, "Hung Up"}

During my trip to Atlanta in May, I met a man who (unintentionally) awakened in me a keen awareness of the black hole of emptiness at my core and a longing for something, anything to fill it. It's important to note that this was an amorous, but not romantic, encounter, and I wasn't even thinking about it in potentially romantic terms. It's just that little things that he did and said – like small intimate gestures and telling me that I'm an amazing person, which truthfully weren't intended to be taken on a deeper level – satisfied long-standing emotional needs that I have been craving for a lifetime.

At our last meeting, he explicitly told me (in words that made my heart melt) that he would enjoy seeing me again, albeit within the proscribed nature of our interactions. (Of course, I had just emptied his balls and was filling his stomach at a restaurant, so that may be why he was feeling well-disposed towards me at the time.) A couple of weeks after I returned home, I reached out to him, and he seemed happy to hear from me, even saying that he'd been thinking about me. I broached the subject of seeing him again and thought he was amenable to the idea.

Then of course he ended up ghosting me...

Every little thing that you say or do
I'm hung up
I'm hung up on you
Waiting for your call, baby, night and day
I'm fed up
I'm tired of waiting on you

Time goes by so slowly for those who wait
No time to hesitate
Those who run seem to have all the fun
I'm caught up, I don't know what to do

{Madonna, "Hung Up"}

His ghosting me stirred up so many swirling, conflicted feelings, like having something you've wanted so badly rudely snatched away. Unfortunately, my reaction was more akin to an addict being suddenly cut off more than any semblance of healthy human dynamics. I feel so foolish and disgusted with myself for being hung up over interactions that ultimately didn't really mean anything. For me, our brief time touched me on a profound level – given my past, my lack of relationships and my emotional baggage – whereas for him it was just a fun interlude that I think he honestly enjoyed but which held no further (or future) significance.

The tipping point that caused me to spiral down as indicated by my last entry was making the mistake of stalking his social media. I saw his full, vibrant life and cursed myself for thinking that I could ever fit into even a tiny corner of it. I wasn't trying to be a lover, not even a friend exactly, but it was a naive and frankly unfair for me to think I could even be a "friendly acquaintance," given the nature of our previous interactions. I know social media isn't reality, and that everyone tries to present themselves as having an enviable life. That's why it can be so insidious and toxic, and I completely got off of it years ago because my compulsion to compare made me feel my life was sadder and paler than I already thought it was. But seeing him out there living, surrounded by friends and lovers, pushed me to confront my lack of consistent human connection.

In spite of all the endless, self-created drama described above, I hold no ill will towards this poor man caught in the crossfire of my battle with the nothing at the root of my psyche. I really don't think he did anything at all wrong and wish him nothing but the best. The saving grace is that he's blissfully unaware of my personal turmoil because, to my credit, I didn't continue to message him or seek any type of BS "closure" like some stalking psycho. That's growth for me as I've made the mistake of pursuing people in spite of their obvious lack of interest many, many times in the past. (Another reason why I've been single so long.) Again, that's a function of my struggles with interpersonal relationships. I find it extremely difficult to pick up on subtle social cues and feel the need to have things blatantly explained, taking people's words at face value when their behavior indicates a counter narrative. But I still can't work out why it hurts so much or why I can't shake it off and move on. I'm grieving as if it were meaningful when I logically understand that it wasn't.

A Better Affirmation

My self-flagellating "affirmations" in my last post were a reaction to the fantasies and false hope I once again allowed to cloud my thoughts instead of dealing with the facts on the ground as they were. I really did have a bit of a breakdown. A short, tidy breakdown invisible to everyone else. But a breakdown nonetheless. I was constantly ugly crying and was repeating aloud the words I wrote on my mirror over and over again like a maniac. I've slowly been pulling myself out of it if still unable to rid myself of the hurt.

I've decided that I need to create my own full life instead of being envious of the lives of others and waiting for my dream life to magically appear. For the first time in forever, I've decided to make a concerted effort to get out and meet people. I've had some success socializing with people through MeetUp groups, better than I've managed in years at least, although my attempts to integrate into the local gay community have been fairly disastrous. Time moves inexorably forward, and I can't undo the past. The only option for all of us is to embrace the present as it is and build what we can towards the future.