As a kid did you ever pick a scab? The thought comes into your head ‘Hmm, I fancy picking that scab’, then the sensible part of your head sparks up ‘No, leave it alone it’s healing’,
‘Oh but it would be so satisfying’ says the bad part,
‘You’ll make it bleed and it’ll go manky’ reminds the good part.
Back and forth it goes in your head until you end up just picking the damned scab. It hurts, it bleeds and you have to keep an eye on it until a new scab grows which puts you right back to hoping you can ignore the urge to scratch it.
I have an emotional scab that I am currently avoiding the urge to pick. As someone who is blessed with a touch of OCD, you can only imagine how bonkers my head is going about this. The dust bunnies in my room make thoughts of it creep into my head in the middle of the night when I’m peacefully asleep. WHOOSH – they huff it into my ear – and PING, I’m wide awake, foot jiggling, teeth grinding awake and stressed thinking about whether or not to dig my fingernails in and pick. I know that it would end badly, not with blood although that is a possibility I suppose, but it would definitely end in tears. My tears, lots of them, snivelly and snotty.
No good can come of it and yet my head won’t let it drop, a tiny part of my brain is all fired up that this is a great idea, it’s working overtime trying to convince the larger part. The idea? I’ve got it into my head that I should ask Mr Lover Lover for an assassination of myself. Before anybody panics that I want him to stab me or shoot me from long range with a sniper rifle, relax. As the only man to have been near me in that way for YEARS, I have this urge to ask him for hints on the things I did right, the things I did wrong, the bits I need to improve (physically, mentally, personality wise etc etc), the bits that annoyed him, etc. Crazy huh?
Why on earth am I placing so much importance on the thoughts of a man that I am not emotionally invested in? Why am I placing so much importance on just one man? Because he was foolish enough to get in to bed with me that’s why. I’m dying to know the whys and wherefores.
Hopefully I can hold my head off and prevent myself from making a catastrophic mistake – could you imagine how toe curlingly cringeworthy it would be?
“Err Hi Mr Lover Lover, you err, well you know we bumped uglies. Would you mind giving me an audit? Marks out of 10 in all the relevant areas and a quick conclusion of things to work on?….. what’s that?…. You think I’m a raging psycho?…oh”.
If you see me over the next few days looking lost or in a world of my own, you can bet your bottom dollar I’m weighing up the pros and cons of asking. Feel free to remind me, THERE ARE ONLY CONS.