So. Online dating
round 2. So many words that I can’t
quite get out. I’m a few years older
than when I tried it last time. I
thought it would be better. I know
myself more. I’m generally speaking
happier with who I am now. Better at not
thinking I’m fat. Better at not thinking
I’m ugly. Better at not thinking I’m not
good enough. I have worked so fucking
hard to get to this place with me. So
hard. People see this person, outgoing confident,
which I am. But there is also a slightly
more fragile version of me. A slightly
more broken me. It’s hidden most of the
time. It’s there though if you take the time to get to know me. And you know what dating is really good at? Bringing the broken me to fore with my internal chat.
So I give up.
Being alone scares me more than anything else in the
world. Not right now. But in the future. I don’t want to be on my own forever. I don’t want to not have children. I think I might have to seriously start considering
this as my reality. And I can’t bear
that. I’m so desperate for a
family. Maybe too desperate and it’s off
putting. I don’t know.
People tell me that I’m young and I’ve got so much
time. No I fucking well don’t. I can’t just have a baby when I feel like
it. It’s going to have to be a very
clinical process. An agreement between
my consultant and I that I can take at least a year off treatment. Get my fertility tested. At the moment, that’s not possible. I don’t know when it will be. I don’t know how much of a fight it will
be. And that scares me. I also don’t want to be an older mother. I don’t give a fuck that many are. That’s not what I want. In 4 months I will be 32. I don’t care that I’m going to be 32, I do
care that in terms of having a baby time is beginning to run out. Very quickly.
I say I have a plan and that I will do it on my own if I have to; have
an IVF baby and hope that my body will support a pregnancy. I will do this. That also scares me. I don’t really want to do it on my own.
So dating. I thought
it would be a bit of fun. I’ve been
pretty relaxed about the whole process. Tried
not to get upset when I get ignored so much, or people who I’ve been chatting
to suddenly disappear before we have met up.
Tried not to mind that when I have met up with guys and I think there is
something there and I get the ‘I don’t think there was anything. Let’s be friends’ message. Part of me wants to say fuck you, don’t be
such a twat, was it because I didn’t drink? But then.
I have lost too many in my life already.
Is it worth losing more who could be special just because my ego has
been hurt?
And then that voice of ‘ you’re
not good enough, see, I told you, you are ugly’ pops up again.
I’m trying so hard to break this pattern.
So I give up.
There was one, who might actually read this, I gave them my
blog, might regret that now. But
actually, fuck it. Why should I censor myself, my mind, what I think just in
case he reads this? My blog. My brain vomit. My space.
And then I think it’s because of cancer. It’s too much. My mother told me not to mention it but it’s
so hard not to. It’s who I am. I don’t want to lie about who I am. Not show the real me. Which I have done. And apparently I’m too full on. To confident and it’s off putting.
So I give up.
I don’t know why this particular person has got under my
skin so much. There have been others who
have preferred someone else to me and it hasn’t bothered me. I was me with them. I warned them I’m a bit of a lunatic, outgoing
etc and they thought I was going to be different. I was a shock. I wasn’t what they thought. I said what I thought.
And then I have my perfect person who I can’t be with
because this universe hates me. And I
compare everyone to him. And they aren’t
him.
So I give up.
I think I'm running out of hope...
XXX
