What do the two things in the title have in common? They are both ships that I don’t know how to build. I know just as much about one as I do the other. I lack the fundamental skillset required to build either. Throughout my life I have not had therapy, medications nor a diagnosis to point to. I couldn’t explain to people that I had this thing and during certain social events I was going to behave in such-and-such a way. I have just been winging it. The thing about winging it when you haven’t the slightest inclination about what you are doing is that it always turns out wrong. There are some things you can learn by trial and error, others not so much. I became reasonably good at mimicking regular social behaviour, because you see I am clever. Did I understand it any better? Heck no. Take intergalactic spaceships as an example. I could go out into the back yard right now and start construction on my ship. I know about as much as all of humanity knows about building these things, perhaps far less than that. So I would start out with a camper-van and end up with a camper-van with a few extra lights and a broken air conditioner. Would I understand intergalactic ship construction any better? Heck no. But I could talk a good game. I could tell you about the wiring I had to do in order to add the lights and the technical difficulties I had with the air conditioning unit. I bet you would be impressed. After about six or so minutes though you wouldn’t want me near your camper-van. You sure as shit wouldn’t give me downpayment on the intergalactic spaceship I was offering to build you.
This is how I fail at relationships. I have a vague understanding of the theory involved. It is the act of employing any talents or skills to maintain or reinforce it that stumps me. Over a given period of time it becomes obvious to most people that I am different. I seem like I know what I’m doing or that I am a regular socially adept guy, but in reality I am flailing. Without a burst of hypomanic energy and a visit from Jack I have no appeal, and his charms are terribly limited. In fact his overbearing nature eventually repels people. Again, I am not blaming a separate entity, we are one and the same. I am trying to end a paragraph here but instead I am getting a big wall of text no matter how many blank lines I place by way of hitting enter. So fuck it, add more fun text!
With the guys it’s simple, men look for admirable qualities, things that they would like to see in themselves. I find that groups of men are round robin apprenticeships. Each takes turns imparting wisdom and skills on the rest. If you have nothing to offer to that dynamic you end up the beta. The beta is going to be treated poorly in every situation. He will be openly mocked at every opportunity. Like Sisyphus he will spend eternity doing everything in his power to redeem himself in the eyes of his group, to no avail. Despite understanding the dog psychology behind the male group dynamic I almost always fuck this up. I begin by asserting myself as alpha. Why in fuck wouldn’t I? As the new guy most groups will have a fair amount of interest in you and offer you this honour. My mistake is that I get anxious and overdo it. I’m too boisterous, too abrasive, I get too familiar too quickly. I used to consider myself a guys guy, after a while most of the things that men do seemed perfectly ridiculous to me and I had to mimic their behaviour. I’m no longer natural around men and it shows. I am completely at odds with their interests and I feel for the most part that this makes me superior to them. This may or may not be true (due to my bipolar) but either way it is a shitty attitude to have when trying to socialize with people and it begins to show. Every now and then I meet another man who is generally at odds with other men. Interested in science and literature more than nascar and football. These gentlemen I act more naturally around and I find that Dysphorian is able to come to the surface and shine. I feel humbled and blessed when this happens, sadly it is all too rare, men are loutish and not worth knowing in a majority of cases.
From the instant gratification of lust and all the wonderful endorphins and hormones to the companionship, intrigue, empathy and passion that is women; my bias is easy to understand. The ways in which I fail them is doubled at least, yet because of their intuition and empathy they are more likely to accept me, even with all of my flaws. Unless I do something that directly insults or threatens them I can always redeem myself in their eyes. My success as a friend to women is greater than that to men for this reason alone. They are nurturing and caring. I get too attached to women too quickly for all of these reasons and it can really creep them right out. I don’t think that too many women are used to men who appreciate them completely outside of a sexual relationship, nor understand the value they present as a source of feminine energy. It is really, really soothing to be in the presence of a woman even without a sexual dynamic, even if only as relief from the constant inanity and competition that masculinity has to offer. There is a marked improvement in the quality and range of topics of conversation. When I use a word like ‘serendipitous’ it is understood and not immediately met with hostility. I FUCKING LIKE SERENDIPITY OKAY! SHIT!
As for relationships, like… past girlfriends… Well, that gets pretty dicey. I’m pleased to say that I managed to maintain contact with most of them as at least acquaintances that I actually spoke to later on. I think most of them could tell. I think many of them could sense that something wasn’t right with this one. At first you have the jumping in too soon and sex within the first four days. Almost every single woman I dated for any period of time began this way. I started a relationship with a woman once when she landed in my lap at a bar. I wanted to get rid of her but we couldn’t hear each other so we started passing notes. She was in my lap… Yeah… Sooner or later I got fed up and wrote: ‘I would fuck you ruthlessly, but I see no wife.’ I expected her to slap me and leave. She gave me her number. I stayed over three nights later. Nine months later and I was drinking so heavily I wound up in bed with another woman, technically I was raped, before you get all judgemental about me being a dirty cheater. But, of course I was still kicked to the curb for being a dirty cheater. Still felt guilty for being a dirty cheater. It took me years to realize it because I am male, but I straight up got raped. I gave no consent, I was too drunk to give consent had I done so anyway… Alas this is neither here nor there, the point is the behaviours. Instead of being a decent boyfriend I was off getting so drunk that I was taken advantage of. And why? Because I would rather be obliviously drunk than attached to a woman for an extended period of time. Why? Because I don’t like myself so a woman who likes me is obviously crazy. It becomes an ouroboros of loathing. I hate her for liking me, because I hate me. I love her, but she loves me, is she stupid? I can’t love someone that stupid. So I act in a reckless fashion. I sabotage my relationship. I let the darker side of Jack off the leash more than I should and sooner or later the whole thing implodes. Fourteen months tops.
The closer women get to me the more that I realize that there is nothing there for them to love. I am empty inside and I have nothing to offer them. It is this emptiness that frightens me and I don’t know if I will ever fill that void. It still exists today and I feel as though I have met my soulmate. Will she eventually become no different than the others? She already has about ten months on the longest of all my other relationships. My emotional resume has not prepared me for this. I do not know if I have the tools required to maintain this and I stand on the brink of ’till death do us part’. That eventuality is a certainty, but when?