He was a fine gentleman, a solid Irishman (accent and all) with an open spirit and a certain depth. I felt a kinship there. But despite our better-than-average first date conversation, I came away from the evening feeling defensive and anxious, and I knew that couldn't be good.
He is a teacher at a community college, and thus harbors that teach-y spirit that tends to drive me batty. This is what I would like: I would like to express a piece of me - specifically some light internal struggle - and just have the person express understanding. No advice, no commentary indicative of the listener judging the comment's validity or need for change, just acceptance and reciprocal conversation.
Come to think of it, he was doing it from the very beginning and I was just trying to stay positive and enjoy myself at the time. This is an emotional bias that I know is nowhere near universally true, but I like to indulge in the perception that these men who become attracted to a girl whom they also feel the desire to teach or save are compensating for something. If, right off the bat, I feel the desire to guide a man, help him reach his potential, then that is not my man. That is a lovely person who is not my equal and who is in the Friend Zone. I'm not looking to mold someone into something else, and doing so alters my feelings about our power balance.
So more of this grrrrr that was mentioned in the previous post.
I am who I am. I don't need you to help me change when I've just met you an hour ago. If I tell you I feel a certain way and we barely know each other, any arguments against what I've expressed as my internal experience, no matter how well-meaning, will not be met warmly. Do you relate to and fully accept who I am right now or don't you? I'm looking for the former, thank you.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Mmmm kimchi from the jar. It punches you in the face then lingers on the tongue, a complicated and fishy coleslaw with a vinegar undercarriage.
This blog was intended to be written from an ornery, forceful place, but endorphins have rushed in to sooth my capsaicin burn, thus "producing a feeling of well-being". And it hurts so good. Ohhhh yeah.
I can still, however, report on the pleasure associated with what is typically seen as an emotionally negative neurochemical event: a reduction in serotonin. This brain chemical helps us steer clear of depressive moods, compulsive behaviors and poor sleep patterns. It also keeps anger and aggression in check.
Last Friday the brain chemical gods sent a Baltimore riff raff to break into my car and steal my book bag, which contained the pills I take to increase my serotonin levels (I have struggled with mild to moderate depression for much of my life). It took a total of five days to obtain the refill, but by the time I picked it up I was starting to feel...alive?
Having also struggled with assertiveness over the years, and having tried this prescription for about 7 months now, I can say that the reduction in angry/aggressive feelings did make me less bothered by frustrating situations, but it also led to an added lack of drive toward redressing them.
So the pleasure I spoke of comes from a keen awareness of this sensation: I'm back, and I'm angry. I'm tired of not correcting people when they've incorrectly assessed my thoughts or emotions. I'm tired of not speaking up. Of not pushing for the information I need.
All this fiery enthusiasm could be a flash in this week's pan, and my heightened joie de vivre will likely be accompanied by deeper shades of upset when things go wrong (they don't call them mood stabilizers for nothin), but right now I invite it. I have shit to do, things to be inspired by...annoyed by, enchanted by, infuriated by. The emotions I experience have always been broad in scope, and it wasn't until this week that I realized how much I miss myself.