Although I don't like hierarchical relationships or primary partners, I do have one partner only at the moment. We have been together for close to two years, and although we have both dated others, neither of us has embarked on another romantic relationship in that time period. My partner has a couple of friends with whom he is romantic but not (currently) sexual. I sleep around with other people when I can find people I want to do that with.
This arrangement is perfectly fine. I'd like to find another partner or two, and/or some long-term sex partners. I'd like to get under my belt the experience of my partner having other partners, by my definition. It's a little funky since he doesn't label relationships and considers me and his friends mentioned above on an even plane. One is overseas, but he spends a lot of time with the other. In some sense therefore he already does have another partner, even though there's no sex involved.
These lines are quite arbitrary, as is obvious given that he and I have different definitions of relationship words. I sometimes do a thought experiment where I find a partner I want to be monogamous with (not likely), meaning that I wouldn't date my current partner S anymore. I could still be friends with S though; my hypothetical monogamous partner wouldn't be controlling. So I can still hang out with S. Perhaps I can still hug S hello and good-bye.
What about more? Could I cuddle with S on the couch when we watch TV? What if I were to give S a little kiss on the cheek? Suppose I could do everything I used to do with S, except touch his penis? The line is pretty arbitrary, see?
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Monday, October 28, 2013
Insecurity and the Roots of Anxiety
Lately I've been considering struggles and how people struggle along the way. Relationships are scary for everyone, but most people don't have chronic anxiety about them. Many people are afraid of public speaking; I don't mind it. I get a little nervous but it's not debilitating and it goes away quickly.
I'm convinced, though, that I have anxiety which hangs itself on relationships. It could just as easily have hung itself on work, or school, or some of the other things people think a lot about. Romantic relationships loom larger in my life than I wish they would. It's hard not to fall into the trap of defining ourselves by our relationships.
I never was in any kind of romantic relationship until college, and even then it only lasted two weeks. I can remember two weeks of total sleep deprivation, because we would be up all night making out and/or trying to sleep in a single bed. The first time we made out, I had a panic attack, though I didn't recognize that at the time. I'd walk around in a daze, thinking to myself, "Who am I? I'm someone's girlfriend!" That feeling of validation as a person was very pleasant, but it was based on a couple of ugly things. First of all, I wasn't all that into the guy himself. I was far more into the idea of being someone's girlfriend. Note above where I didn't say, "I'm Steve's girlfriend!" (Steve was not his name.) Secondly, I have worth as an individual. I don't need validation by a relationship.
It took me years to learn that, years in which I struggled alone, feeling lonely and useless. I was doing good work, taking interesting travels, moving to different places, but I had a hard time making friends, let alone finding romantic partners. Of course, I assumed that no one found me attractive, and that was why I didn't have romantic prospects. Although that may have been part of it, a bigger part would have been my inability to go in a romantic direction.
So it's not surprising that my anxiety would hang itself on relationships; those were the part of my life whose lack I felt most keenly, and and the part I was convinced my lack of physical attractiveness was blocking me from. When I discovered fat acceptance and got into therapy, I dealt with a lot of those feelings of unattractiveness and I found partners, but the anxiety stayed.
I'm convinced, though, that I have anxiety which hangs itself on relationships. It could just as easily have hung itself on work, or school, or some of the other things people think a lot about. Romantic relationships loom larger in my life than I wish they would. It's hard not to fall into the trap of defining ourselves by our relationships.
I never was in any kind of romantic relationship until college, and even then it only lasted two weeks. I can remember two weeks of total sleep deprivation, because we would be up all night making out and/or trying to sleep in a single bed. The first time we made out, I had a panic attack, though I didn't recognize that at the time. I'd walk around in a daze, thinking to myself, "Who am I? I'm someone's girlfriend!" That feeling of validation as a person was very pleasant, but it was based on a couple of ugly things. First of all, I wasn't all that into the guy himself. I was far more into the idea of being someone's girlfriend. Note above where I didn't say, "I'm Steve's girlfriend!" (Steve was not his name.) Secondly, I have worth as an individual. I don't need validation by a relationship.
It took me years to learn that, years in which I struggled alone, feeling lonely and useless. I was doing good work, taking interesting travels, moving to different places, but I had a hard time making friends, let alone finding romantic partners. Of course, I assumed that no one found me attractive, and that was why I didn't have romantic prospects. Although that may have been part of it, a bigger part would have been my inability to go in a romantic direction.
So it's not surprising that my anxiety would hang itself on relationships; those were the part of my life whose lack I felt most keenly, and and the part I was convinced my lack of physical attractiveness was blocking me from. When I discovered fat acceptance and got into therapy, I dealt with a lot of those feelings of unattractiveness and I found partners, but the anxiety stayed.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Psychiatry
Yesterday I visited a new psychiatrist. This one thinks I don't have social anxiety and diagnosed me with anxiety, unqualified. I used to argue with the old one about whether I really had social anxiety, so it was nice to hear that this guy agreed with my perception.
Certainly I don't have most of the more traditional elements of social anxiety. I'm not afraid to go to parties; I don't have trouble peeing in public restrooms; I'm comfortable getting up in front of people and performing. Social anxiety isn't a crazy diagnosis, but I didn't think it was a strong fit either.
Based on that conversation, I'd like to have more conversations with fellow sufferers, and in more detail, because I had always assumed that my symptoms were typical of anxiety and rather mild. Perhaps they are; I don't know. People don't talk much about mental illness.
Certainly I don't have most of the more traditional elements of social anxiety. I'm not afraid to go to parties; I don't have trouble peeing in public restrooms; I'm comfortable getting up in front of people and performing. Social anxiety isn't a crazy diagnosis, but I didn't think it was a strong fit either.
Based on that conversation, I'd like to have more conversations with fellow sufferers, and in more detail, because I had always assumed that my symptoms were typical of anxiety and rather mild. Perhaps they are; I don't know. People don't talk much about mental illness.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Rejection and the Possibility of Rejection
Dating is often a difficult experience. I mostly do online dating, which I feel helps me cut down on part of the anxiety. It's a lot easier to ask out a stranger over the internet than a person I've met in real life who I may have to see again after they turn me down or it doesn't work out. That may be a challenge to set myself to in the future.
Meanwhile, first dates are not that traumatic for me. The early stages of dating aren't exactly stress-free, but it's not too difficult if things end a few dates in. It's a bummer if I was into the guy, but not really an anxiety trigger. The thing that gets me is when things start getting serious. My brain starts going wild with scenarios -- they're not as into me as I am into them; I've misjudged the situation; they're about to leave for parts unknown and haven't told me yet; my feelings aren't as solid as I thought; on on on. A lot of this comes down to fear of rejection. The anxiety comes when I'm afraid of being rejected for something I care about -- a relationship with this person who seems pretty awesome.
The only other time I have this strong an anxiety response is with auditions. I do musical theater, and I get severe anxiety before and during auditions, to the point where it affects my performance. I'm a good singer, but a number of directors probably couldn't tell because I was so nervous. I sometimes wonder if I fuck up relationships for the same reason. I'm an awesome relationship partner, but it's hard to tell in the beginning stages because I'm so terrified.
Fear is almost never a reason not to do something, so I keep going on auditions and I keep being open to new relationships, because the rewards of actually being in the show or being in the relationship are worth it. Oh, but it can suck hardcore to start. Yes, anxiety can flare up during relationships too, and it's always related to fear of rejection/losing the relationship.
Funny how knowing this doesn't make the anxiety go away. It's almost like there's something wonky in my brain making me have anxiety whether I want it or no! (Oh wait, there is.)
Meanwhile, first dates are not that traumatic for me. The early stages of dating aren't exactly stress-free, but it's not too difficult if things end a few dates in. It's a bummer if I was into the guy, but not really an anxiety trigger. The thing that gets me is when things start getting serious. My brain starts going wild with scenarios -- they're not as into me as I am into them; I've misjudged the situation; they're about to leave for parts unknown and haven't told me yet; my feelings aren't as solid as I thought; on on on. A lot of this comes down to fear of rejection. The anxiety comes when I'm afraid of being rejected for something I care about -- a relationship with this person who seems pretty awesome.
The only other time I have this strong an anxiety response is with auditions. I do musical theater, and I get severe anxiety before and during auditions, to the point where it affects my performance. I'm a good singer, but a number of directors probably couldn't tell because I was so nervous. I sometimes wonder if I fuck up relationships for the same reason. I'm an awesome relationship partner, but it's hard to tell in the beginning stages because I'm so terrified.
Fear is almost never a reason not to do something, so I keep going on auditions and I keep being open to new relationships, because the rewards of actually being in the show or being in the relationship are worth it. Oh, but it can suck hardcore to start. Yes, anxiety can flare up during relationships too, and it's always related to fear of rejection/losing the relationship.
Funny how knowing this doesn't make the anxiety go away. It's almost like there's something wonky in my brain making me have anxiety whether I want it or no! (Oh wait, there is.)
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Acute Stomach Flu and Chronic Self-Care
I think sometimes that anxiety is a bit like stomach flu. Really long-lasting, chronic stomach flu.
Anxiety feels physically like a gripping in my stomach. My head feels hot, my arms feel weak; I'm restless and can't hold still. When I'm in the throes of it, I can't imagine what it's like not to feel that way. This is where I'm reminded of the flu. A stomach bug also feels like it will never end. It's as if I've always felt that way, and I will always feel that way. I can tell myself that it will end; I know it will end; but I can't quite make myself believe it. And unfortunately, although a bout of anxiety is not as intense as a bout of stomach flu, it lasts a heck of a lot longer.
BUT the thing is, flu ends. I do stop feeling quite so horrendous. And anxiety flare-ups end too. They end on their own, though it helps to find useful ways to deal with the obsessive thoughts that accompany them.
Here's what helps keep anxiety symptoms at bay and prevent flare-ups for me:
Anxiety feels physically like a gripping in my stomach. My head feels hot, my arms feel weak; I'm restless and can't hold still. When I'm in the throes of it, I can't imagine what it's like not to feel that way. This is where I'm reminded of the flu. A stomach bug also feels like it will never end. It's as if I've always felt that way, and I will always feel that way. I can tell myself that it will end; I know it will end; but I can't quite make myself believe it. And unfortunately, although a bout of anxiety is not as intense as a bout of stomach flu, it lasts a heck of a lot longer.
BUT the thing is, flu ends. I do stop feeling quite so horrendous. And anxiety flare-ups end too. They end on their own, though it helps to find useful ways to deal with the obsessive thoughts that accompany them.
Here's what helps keep anxiety symptoms at bay and prevent flare-ups for me:
- Regular exercise, to the point where my muscles feel worked out.
- Limiting or preferably eliminating caffeine consumption.
- Connecting emotionally with people I care about in a general way; and
- Discussing what is particularly bothering me before it gets out of control. If it's a relationship issue, discussing it with the other person or people in that particular relationship.
That last one is something that I keep having to relearn. I try and talk myself out of obsessive ideas rather than bothering someone else with them. This seldom works and I work myself up into a frenzy before breaking down and having some sort of crying fit to be told that it's just not true that so-and-so wants me to go away and never come back.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Accepting
Perhaps accepting that I may never be free of anxiety is a step in the right direction. I came across this blog post from last year. I recommend reading the whole thing. It's very eloquent and filled with nerdily interesting Star Trek references.
There feels like a lot of commonality between me and the author. I, too, am someone who does not require polyamory for happiness, but who is pursuing it for life enrichment reasons. I, too, have a clinical diagnosis of social anxiety. Never once does the author assert that not being poly would reduce anxiety. Rather, she/he assumes that anxiety just is. There are times when it will just chatter and there's no way to shut it down. (Mind you, I've known booze to do the trick, but the anxiety comes roaring back when the drunk wears off.)
The author points out that folks like Franklin Veaux and the authors of books such as Opening Up and The Ethical Slut have a lot of helpful info for people dealing with jealousy and insecurity in poly relationships, but that this advice is not always useful for those with anxiety disorders. They can make it seem like if we don't conquer our jealousy, it is our fault for not trying hard enough, when in reality anxiety is a way tougher beast than that.
In a way, I find this freeing, just as I did when I decided I was done limping through life on my own and needed to find a therapist, and then again when I decided my mental health would benefit from psychotropic medications because I was making decisions based on fear rather than on what would be best for me. It's okay if I can't always control my anxiety. Sometimes the best I can do is to make a distinction between what seems founded and what doesn't, and to ask if I'm not sure.
A fear I often have is that my partner is secretly mad at me. I know perfectly well that if he's upset with me he will say so. There have been multiple occasions when he has brought up issues with something I said or did, and vice versa. But I still have a hard time shaking the fear that he is mad at me. It's not illogical necessarily, because seething with unspoken resentment is something people do A LOT, and I've done it too. But in this case, I know it's not happening. Well, I'm 95% sure it's not happening, and it's that other 5% that drives me crazy.
However, there are ways to deal with this. One way is to ask. My partner responds a lot better to questions than assumptions, which can come out in ugly ways. The other way is to remind myself that the anxiety is just being a douche today. Or both.
There feels like a lot of commonality between me and the author. I, too, am someone who does not require polyamory for happiness, but who is pursuing it for life enrichment reasons. I, too, have a clinical diagnosis of social anxiety. Never once does the author assert that not being poly would reduce anxiety. Rather, she/he assumes that anxiety just is. There are times when it will just chatter and there's no way to shut it down. (Mind you, I've known booze to do the trick, but the anxiety comes roaring back when the drunk wears off.)
The author points out that folks like Franklin Veaux and the authors of books such as Opening Up and The Ethical Slut have a lot of helpful info for people dealing with jealousy and insecurity in poly relationships, but that this advice is not always useful for those with anxiety disorders. They can make it seem like if we don't conquer our jealousy, it is our fault for not trying hard enough, when in reality anxiety is a way tougher beast than that.
In a way, I find this freeing, just as I did when I decided I was done limping through life on my own and needed to find a therapist, and then again when I decided my mental health would benefit from psychotropic medications because I was making decisions based on fear rather than on what would be best for me. It's okay if I can't always control my anxiety. Sometimes the best I can do is to make a distinction between what seems founded and what doesn't, and to ask if I'm not sure.
A fear I often have is that my partner is secretly mad at me. I know perfectly well that if he's upset with me he will say so. There have been multiple occasions when he has brought up issues with something I said or did, and vice versa. But I still have a hard time shaking the fear that he is mad at me. It's not illogical necessarily, because seething with unspoken resentment is something people do A LOT, and I've done it too. But in this case, I know it's not happening. Well, I'm 95% sure it's not happening, and it's that other 5% that drives me crazy.
However, there are ways to deal with this. One way is to ask. My partner responds a lot better to questions than assumptions, which can come out in ugly ways. The other way is to remind myself that the anxiety is just being a douche today. Or both.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Attractiveness
It's not always easy to remember that some people find me attractive. Oh sure, I'm pretty. A lot of people are. But that's not the same as being attractive.
I went to high school with a girl, let's call her Alice, who was not particularly pretty. Most people, looking at a picture of us side by side, would have said I was the prettier. But Alice could flirt, something I've never been much good at. She was rather magnetic; people found her attractive.
Myself, I have always felt awkward. I can be charming on a first date, and that is a new development. But it doesn't seem to make a whole lot of difference. When I first met the person I'm dating, I felt extremely awkward because he was so handsome. He could sense the awkwardness too, but he wanted to see me more because he thought I was cute. I told him I'm often surprised when people find me attractive; he found that stupid.
But this is an angle on anxiety: the fear that a partner will find someone more attractive than me. It's a common feeling among poly people who are not perfectly secure. Of course, that isn't the point. The point is, even if a partner finds someone more good-looking than me, the partner won't leave because of it. The partner values me for me, not my pretty face or nice-looking cleavage. As for more attractive, well, that's not just looks. Attractiveness has many facets. Maybe someone else is funnier, or more empathetic, or athletic, but she or he doesn't have the same mix of characteristics as I do, and won't have the same chemistry as I do with the partner.
The same goes for me, of course. I could meet someone who is more attractive, physically or otherwise, than the person I'm seeing. I suppose it's even possible that I could find this person so very extremely attractive that it would overpower my good sense and lead me to throw over any and all other loves for the sake of him if he wanted me to. But that is so infinitesimally unlikely that it's really not worth considering, and the same goes for the partners of my partners.
As with many things, it comes down to putting oneself in the place of another and seeing where the thought experiment leads.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)