So, since I'm SUCH a qualified mental health practitioner I've decided to add a new disorder to the DSM IV. Relationship Induced Bipolar Disorder, RIBD (unfortunately not for your pleasure). Yes, I'm a FUCKING spaz when a relationship is potentially initiating. I so hate the initial, I don't know if your feeling the way I'm feeling about you, feeling. I really like the sliding into comfort zones with each other phase, where your both super happy with each other, and way affectionate, and well, you just want to be with each other and reassuring and validating to each others emotions. I so want the RIBD phase to end so my alone time can go back to being productive painting time, and not waisted worrying if he's going to call me, see me again, time. Plus, well, I mean I just kinda want a hug, I mean I just don't sleep with anyone, and well, I like to be reassured it was a mutually significant event, and not just a fuck. Please let it not have been just a fuck.

I'm such a fucking spaz! I so just want to be able to calm my fucking ass down. I want my heart to quit racing and my temples to quit pounding! I had GREAT sex last night with Not-Green-Eyed-Man, even though I was nervous and not at the top of my game. I was laying there the both of us in each others arms, and the realization of just how stunningly handsome he is hit me like a ton of bricks. Coupled with his kind hearted good nature I'm extremely attracted to this man that has waltzed into my life, and who is steadily creeping into my heart. I mean I knew he was very handsome from the get go, but laying there, half on top of him, gazing into his face it just about bowled me over, this realization of just how good looking he is. I mean honestly he is a breathtaking individual.

And then, smack dab at the hight of my freak out he text messages me, we chat on the phone, or we meet online and suddenly the demons of not being good enough, handsome enough, witty enough, butch enough, thin enough, built enough, hung enough dissipate into the ether and all seems right as rain again in Madrigleland. I want to be able to hang onto that, and not let those voices of doubt slink in around my edges again, to root themselves into my psyche like they do. Uhg, for a pound of self confidence! I know I can do this, I know I can keep myself from feeling like I need an anti- anxiety med in a huge way. I know I can. I know I am capable. I know I'm more then good enough. I do. Ok, I want to believe I am. I want to be more than good enough, in spite of my flaws, with eyes wide open on both our parts I want to be cherished. (initially I had worded this I want to be enough, the wording bugged from the get go, but there it was, the wise and all knowing Zuzu of dland was kind enough to point out aspiring to be enough is not all that worthy of myself, nor anyone in a relationship. Thanks for clarifying my inner voice, Zu.)