I began dating again recently. All Winter, I had forced myself into isolation and actually thrived. I was creatively energized, and thoroughly content, even ecstatic at times. I thought that after all these years of suffering in my loneliness, I finally found a way to accept it, function in it, and even enjoy it.

But despite being middle aged now, my sex drive is still incredibly high. Its always been such a terrible distraction for me. And even as I enjoyed being alone, I was still lonely. I think we naturally want someone to be a witness of our lives. And then there was my dark secret, the secret that controls me all day, every day, and demands my attention, demands to be satisfied. I suppose I want that to be witnessed by someone too.

So as Spring came early, with mid-Summer temperatures, birds began chirping, grass growing, flowers blooming and leaves appearing, I began to think about all the Summer activities I would have to do alone. I was preparing myself for this in the Winter, making lists of things I could do alone for fun. I even looked forward to doing them alone, as I thought it would make me a stronger person. But when it comes right down to it, what’s the point? I can’t get motivated to do these things for myself, only for someone else.

So, I thought I would start online dating again, looking only for female friends to do fun things with. I suppose I always knew I was kidding myself, and almost immediately, I returned to seeking out dangerous women and dangerous situations, even more boldly than in the past. The slow rumble of thoughts became a deafening roar, louder than ever before.

Online dating is a blessing and a curse. It enables someone who is painfully shy and socially awkward like me the opportunity to date, which would otherwise be nearly impossible for me. But it also enables my worst impulses.

In the Winter loneliness, I was able to sleep fairly well, because even though my shadow was there, I didn’t always have to look at it. But once I start dating, the shadow had to be confronted, at all times it demands my full attention. So as has happened in the past, I struggle for sleep, struggle against all my intrusive thoughts, and I lose both.

I am tormented and I am exhausted. I can’t make peace with this. I haven’t figured out how yet. Its like these ideas I have are so big that they can’t fit into my head, but they keep forcing their way in, and I keep trying to make room for them and hold them there. And its hurts so much. I am in constant agony.

This blog is primarily an attempt to get these ideas out of my head and hold them somewhere else. Its not really meant to be read by anyone, although I may tell a few select women, so that they can try to understand me.

Understanding me is hard. I don’t understand myself well, despite being a relatively intelligent and introspective person. So helping someone else understand what I don’t understand is very difficult. I am pretty self aware and feel that I have a good sense of why I am the way I am, how I got to this dark place. But that knowledge hasn’t brought peace. I still have to figure out how to move forward, how to live, how to survive.

So when I meet a woman that is open to hearing about my secret. I struggle to convey the true nature and depth of it. First, I have to overcome preconceptions. For example, they think initially that I want to be whipped or spanked. No, its so much worse than that. Its so much more deviant, perverse. I want them to hurt my mind and I have to struggle to make sense of that for them. I want them to leave scars on my brain. I want them to destroy me as a person. And its not a fantasy, its not role playing, its terribly real.

A woman who is willing to take that journey with me has to know that my secret might poison them. They will have to visit that dark place, and they may become a different person as a result, someone they may not want to become. I suppose that if they go far enough, they will have to come to terms with the fact that they are a person who enjoys hurting others. The only solace is that they are not quite as sick as me.

I fully realize I am seeking something very unrealistic, and perhaps even impossible. How can someone care for me and mistreat me at the same time, or at least, in the same relationship? I want someone who will cruelly hurt me, then comfort me, and sincerely mean both. Maybe the only people who can do this are psychopathic.

Perhaps I have finally painted myself into a corner, and created a situation that I can escape. When there is nowhere left to go, what will I do then?

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