Sexual frustration pretty much defines the logic or lackthereof behind my entire existence.

How can one even feel remotely happy or satisfied when their most fundamental support system has been denied?

The problem is that I am actually a very sexual being, yet I have conditioned myself to be so ashamed.  Blame it on my catholic upbringing, blame it on my parents reprimanding me for "touching my chi-chi" at the age of 3 or 4 and for refusing to put a lock on my bedroom door, therefore creating my chronic fear of "being walked in on" or "being caught w/ my pants down".  But my whole life, I clearly lacked the wisdom to (re-)establish any sense of sexual confidence for myself.

A lot of it also has to do w/ my chronic self-consciousness of my own body hair.  I often feel that I would go out running more if I could "wax" my entire body (I could feel comfortable wearing tank-tops and shorts.  But I have a life-controlling self-consciousness of others viewing my hair arms/legs/back… and more importantly, my face.  And as you also may infer, my pubic region is extremely problematic for me.  That's another huge factor in my sexual un-confidence.

All I want is to be a confident openly sexual being… comfortable w/ my body.  I suppose I have what they call "body dismorphic disorder"… Frank claims I have an eating disorder as well…. I really wouldn't say that, though.  Because I do eat generously… yet I do suppose that I have a slightly strange relationship w/ food.  Like sex, it is a desire of the flesh.  When I am stressed out at work, for example, I almost thrive on skipping lunch and denying myself of basic nourishment because I cannot truly enjoy eating, and I feel that  the act of eating shouldn't be rushed and should always be somewhat enjoyed.

Why am I with Frank? Seriously, it's really not fair to him and I'm so sick of denying it.  Especially lately, I really don't enjoy anything in life.  I feel distressed about EVERYTHING.  All negatives are quite magnified and I don't really know what brought this on.  I always feel at least slightly panicked about something.  I know a lot of this right now is because of our bedbug problem at the moment.  I really hope it's under control.  I think we caught it just in time, hopefully.  But I definitely gave me some kind of temporary Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.  But even before we realized we had bedbugs, I've been feeling this way for over a month, I think and I don't really understand why.  I've also felt very fatigued and yet I've been eating a lot.    I've also been blushing a lot too, which is worrisome.  I worry a lot lately.

I really feel like I play a charade within every aspect of my life, like I have such trouble being completely honest, like I have to use some sort of defense mechanism every 5 seconds that reveals some horrible side of my personality that I'm often ashamed of.  At work, I feel like an insane nazi.  At home, I'm exhausted and cranky and I almost never want to have sex.  And when we do, we're never on the same page and I can't completely relax.  Well, Frank and I have pretty much never been on the same page for sex.  I'm usually not engaged w/ him and I have to fake a lot of shit and I feel horrible about it.

All I want is someone that I can completely surrender with… I need to feel fused with someone… to really make love… even just for 5 minutes.  I'm really concerned that I'll act out later in life… but no, chances are that I'll still feel too repressed to do that even when I'm older, or I'll die before I do that.

Was I put on this godforesaken planet to appease Frank? To appease other goddamn humans? Because that's how I feel every second of every day.  Like I don't deserve love and bliss because it's some kind of "desire of the flesh/mind" and I'll be neglecting some responsibility if I engage is such acts.  I don't know.  Do I actually believe that god will frown up me/punish me if i do? No, because that's fucking insane… but I have been deeply instilled with rules of insanity since I was in-utero.  Is there something controlling me? Have I been probed or chipped? That's how I feel.  I feel physically and emotionally like shit all the time… like I've been steadily poisoned my whole life, and part of the poison's physiologically course is to incrementally make me feel "OK for short lengths of time"….

Or, was I supposed to break out of my self-induced shell many years ago and now it's too late? Was Frank sent here to destroy me and program me and fill my head with seemingly useless info? In some ways he's no better than my parents, brainwashing me, etc….

And isn't it really fucking funny that Frank's birthday is only 3 days apart from my own father's, yet I was never in my life close w/ my father? Isn't it such a fucking hilarious textbook scenario???!!!!!!

Is it the law of physics here?

Is this all just a projection, born of my own delusions???

Yet I basically feel no strong convictions whatsoever… deep down, I kind of can't deny that I'm basically a nihilist…. but maybe that's not true because I am often quite consumed by negativity and stress… in fact, it's like food to me.  Toxic food that really destroys me and masochistically, I really enjoy it because it's probably the only thing that makes me feel valid and acknowledged.

I really feel that I am at the point of no return, and that I am simple mindlessly wandering this fucking planet to appease everyone that supposedly claims to give a shit about me, especially Frank.  Because in all honesty, I think that HE believes he loves me, but his "love" is sickly bullshit.  He's a big fucking hypocrit and full of shit, really.  He should be locked up and I really can't stand being around him most of the time.  Really, I often feel embarassed by him.  For his sake, if he actually is as sincere as he claims to be, I wish I were someone else.  Because if he is as sincere as he claims to be, he deserves someone more loving and stupid, I suppose.  Although he constantly tells me how stupid I am.  And I lack the wisdom to decipher if it is my fault or if he is insane and I masochistically chose to stay w/ him and feed him.

The truth is, I really have no fucking idea.  And perhaps I really am better off with him than without him, which is the REALLY fucking scary part of this whole clusterfuck.

And from the grand ole universal scheme of things, isn't my predicament really funny?


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