She’s Hysterical

Emotional immaturity, lack of self-awareness and lack of accountability. When he calls her crazy, wheels out his stories of psychos and other such variants — ask of his actions that instigated her reactions. He’ll not be able to answer, at least not truthfully, because that would mean being honest with himself. The ego prefers those lights off. Instead, believe that he is so desirable; simply existing drives any woman crazy. If asked, though, he may anger at the audacity of being questioned. He’s even the victim in his mind, and he’ll tell himself another story — how dare she, another fucking psycho.

Years later, he’ll return, peering around corners, lurking behind a screen, fingering old pictures, wondering where she went. He’s alone in his asylum of echos.

Of course, he/she is interchangeable, but it dominates, as noted. Just consider even recent 19th-century history, with a pandemic of sorts and a surge of women being diagnosed with Hysteria and other so-called ‘mental disorders’ for not meeting man’s mark of what is considered reasonable, sane, and well-behaved.

But back to the top, flip the narrative and consider each in equal measure. The truth is often somewhere between — hanging in tatters of opposing communication styles, the shredded ribbons of whys, and paragraphs wedged between the lines. 

Suppose we scrape back a little and admit the chemical truth; that although of the same species, the sexes are inherently wired differently. It’s not just physiological; it’s chemical (hormonal) and psychological. We’re not the same. We are not equal. Understanding and empathy can go a long way, but tired, pre-conditioned, defensive, and damaging routes are sadly still more frequently trodden. Footprints smash and merge on that sad muddy path. Nothing grows there.

Popular culture, including methods of control wheeled out by religious and governments, have fed into the tropes that categorise the ill-expressed emotionless and logical male as somehow strong and superior and the overly emotional, sensitive female as unreasonable and, yes, psychotic. And within our sexes, we even betray ourselves. Yes, the external gaslighting happens within the borders too. It’s a fucked up mess to untangle and rework. Neither perpetrator likes to be called out, but that does not mean they shouldn’t.

Unless one is willing to open their eyes and look through a few other lenses, what’s the point? There’s no use in rinsing if one is doomed to repeat.

Crumbs

Into the sea of a billion similar blog posts on the state of ‘dating’, here’s my crumb to be dissolved in the salt. I’m sore, so I’m hitting the innie hard, which usually means I go out of direct contact except for a teeny few for a bit. 

I’ve spent most of my teen and adult life in a relationship thus my experience with being single is limited. There have only been a few small windows. It seems that there are many of us in my generation (middle-aged, single), and I don’t believe it’s because people lack anything from previous generations for LTRs to stick. I think it’s more that we’re developing more self-respect for personal needs than being sacrificed to unhappy, uncommunicative, sometimes abusive, neglectful, and unfulfilling institutions, of which there seem to be many. My last relationship spanned 16 years, of which I was monogamous, so it had been a fair while since I dipped my toes into the pool!

I had a brief flurry on a particular app — chatted to a few folks; some seemed decent, but others were a fucking shambles. I’m not sure when it became acceptable to ask if a woman wants to eat your ass in a greeting, but there seems to be more of those clods than decent folks on the apps. The way they speak over text would never happen in real life. It’s fucking nuts. And there are the time wasters who are bored, probably married (and not open), and want to chat but never meet. (I understand why pages like ‘Are we dating the same guy/girl exist?’. Sadly, they have to and probably create as many problems as they highlight.) And, of course, there’s the torrential onslaught of egomania DPs and selfies—men being more visual, this seemed more a male thing. Women connect differently. Many seem slow to learn that—that’s one to teach our sons.

I didn’t go more than ankle deep and quickly decided—fuck that, and shut it down. I don’t imagine ever returning to those avenues (I may get more chickens). In theory, it’s such a fun and efficient idea to meet folks looking for the same things, but it’s riddled with liars.

What the actual fuck?

Anyway, after that, there was an accident, not from the dating apps. We actually met in person, and I stupidly caught feelings and hurt myself. Is this a right of passage? Does it mean I’m now totally part of the 21st century and the death of human connection? Where heavy contact and mixed signals, then nothing are the norm?

I might have been a boredom breaker, like you’d give to a dog—chewed up, spat out, tossed to be forgotten under the sofa, now onto the next shiny toy to rip apart.

It’s depressing the state human connection and communication has gotten into with regards to romance, sex, and any new relationship (or situationship now?) that involves exploring and engaging with one or both of those things. 

It’s fucked, isn’t it? It’s not even a question. I know it is.

Personally, being of a HSP, empathic, introverted nature—it is hell, and we are screwed. Quick! Grab all the books and head to the woods! I either feel nothing or I feel it all intensely, and I read and soak in the emotional energy of others with whom I directly connect. With this, I am immensely lucky in the very close friendships I have. Unlucky in the other.

My nature has been weaponised against me in the past, particularly in relationships. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve allowed emotional manipulation to steal years of my life. Time is life; it’s all we get. The quality and authenticity of the connections we make matter. When there are shifts in emotional energy, there’s a very direct impact. Those three personality traits interlink heavily with the physical. When HSPs are emotionally messed around, we feel it everywhere: we can’t sleep, how we feel is deafening and consuming, we get stuck in conversations in our heads (even ones that haven’t happened. The words unuttered become haunting ghosts), and we beat ourselves up.

Over recent years, I’ve been trying to manage these things better, and this year, I made a conscious effort to try to implement self-care and regulation so I can support better mental health. That self-work really is so important for all of us. The more sensitively, empathetic natured tend to sacrifice that naturally to support the energy of those we feel connected to. It’s not an easy trait to snap out of. Work is continuous.

It’s not about being ‘too sensitive’ or having to ‘harden up’ as I, and I know others of a similar cut, would have heard growing up. Honestly, I’m not 100% sure what the solution is because right now, I’m in ‘shut everything down!’, ‘raise the drawbridge!’, ‘flood the fucking moat!’, and ‘stay away from all people!’ mode. Defensive. But we shouldn’t have to live that way. And I know that mindset creates trouble when the fort is battened down too hard….

Fuck. I hate this feeling.

‘The mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb’ —Rain, SleepToken