Tuesday, October 9, 2012


So despite continuing wonderful weeks with Peabody I’ve had a couple minutes of insecurity. Just here and there but nothing major or lasting by any means.  As I sat here today ruminating on why that is (and how crazy that is because literally everything he does says how much he likes me) and I was reflecting on why I’ve had any moments of doubt with him when something smacked me in the face.

Do I think I’m unlovable?

Obviously with this month leading up the third anniversary of my dad’s suicide it’s an emotion filled time.  But perhaps deep down in my psyche, his suicide created some underlying damage that makes me think because he didn’t love me enough to stay here and fight for me no one ever will. 

Now before everyone freaks, I know that’s crazy.  I have read quite a bit on suicide and the effects on families, children, and particularly daughters who lose their fathers so I know similar thoughts plague many people.  But I’ve never really considered that as an issue for me. 

Perhaps that’s why I threw myself away from my marriage so fast and why I’ve endured a string of worthless dalliances and relationships with unsuitable men.  Like my psyche thinks that I either have to “leave them” before they leave me or I am scared to let anyone get close enough to hurt me because at the end of the day, the shrapnel from my dad’s death has made some tiny irrational part of me think I’ll never be enough for anyone to fight for .

So if this damage even truly exists, and I think it likely does in some small way, it’s caused me to date men who are either totally unemotional available, men who are not serious at all about finding a partner, men who are gimp-tastic, or men who generally are “less” than me so I feel I have some sort of upper hand and feel more in control. 

Then along comes Peabody, who surely has gimp issues of his own, and he’s none of those things.  And that scares me and though it’s steadily getting smaller and smaller, causes these moments of insecurity.  And for some reason when I’m feeling insecure, I keep wanting him to say “words.”   And we all know that words are essentially meaningless – actions always speak louder. 

Hmmm, interesting thoughts on a rainy cold day.


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