So we're all damaged huh?

 

How damaged am I?

It might take you 10 years more... You're too young, even younger than your age.

That's what he told me after we entwined our bodies in each other's arms, and also after half a year without seeing each other's face.  

I've got to admit, I need to be honest with myself that he was one of the reasons for my constantly surging depression. I had climbed up every single step to escape from the dark basement of suffering, but now once again, that shadow being has reached the tip of my toe, slowly lured my mind, misled me to lose my wisdom, to succumb to the haze of lust and longing.

This is my blog, every piece of stories that has made up my life after nearly 10 years leaving the warmth and protection of my family, so I want to be the truest, most honest version of myself here. I don't want to hide anything here. And in fact, it's been a long time since I last updated it. Therefore, I know, I should write this story out. 

I started to have sexual arousal disorder. I lost my direction in sexual interest. Because I'm "damaged".

Do you know why I said so?

It originated in a post that I have read on redpillvn, which I dislike intensely on how it conveys their messages about women, whose title "How do you know a girl is damaged?". Yes, I'm damaged, I have almost every sign of a damaged girl, a weird girl different from others, she has daddy issues, tattoos, colorful hair. I'm damaged, I'm broken in my soul behind the image of a 4 eyed nerd who only knows how to learn.   

Do I feel ashamed of myself saying that?

No. Not at all. I never hide it. I can post my sexy photos on my Instagram with the thoughts of art, and I don't fear if someone would give me a damn judgment, I don't feel the need to hide it. Yes, I like sex, I like my body and I like women. I like lewd and horny women, they heal my soul. I never hide it. Not at all.

Men have passed through my life, some think I'm dead ass lesbian, some think I'm a man inside of a woman, some think I'm pure as a white page of paper and they don't want to throw dirt on it. But eventually everyone who has undressed me was all helpless seeing a girl dead at her 17, a girl who doesn't want to grow up, a girl who is yearning for the image of a real man in her life, and no one ever has enough responsibility to take on for that girl. No one. Someone nice enough will spend time to remind me about my choices and give me some advices, yet somehow, if I'm too dependent on an ambiguous figure, then I have to reluctantly accept that someday that figure will leave me on my own to get on with the accumulating splinters inside of me, alone.  

Why am I damaged?

I have seen happy families. Even he himself has told me about how his family and his surroundings were that moral and well-educated, to build a good environment to bring up children. I had felt "offended" hearing that, because I'm allergic to those things, maybe because of my jealousy or maybe because I can see something. 

I have seen virtuous people who grew up in well rounded families, walked successfully in a straight line then married someone exactly like them. Wonderful huh? But it's totally so worse that I can see what they are hiding behind their masks, an ugly truth that used to make me disgusted for a long period of time. The truth about those people, about what they call "morality" or "well-educated", it's something really "hypocritical". They don't have the guts to live with their true selves, they hide what they think people will possibly judge if they accidentally find it out, and they think hiding is the best solution. 

I couldn't accept it because I have never lived like them. I have never been perfect without faults in front of people and never hid the flip side of my virtues, vices and lust. And I'm sure I'm still far more rightly inclined than people who are virtuous for show but couldn't win over their desires.

Now, let's return to the family background. Yeah, my family is definitely not a perfect model of the Vietnamese dream, not "well rounded" enough to produce people with "moral integrity", nobody is perfect and we all have faults to adjust. My father had been working in the oil and gas industry for many years before his death and my mother was simply a housewife staying at home to take care of us, their 4 children and I'm the youngest. My mother is a strong and dedicated woman who takes control of the financial matters in our family, an anchor to pull us back from the water every time we're drown while my father was a childish man who only knew how to satisfy his needs. My father was usually absent from home due to his seafarer's lifestyle back to the day, and by any mean, I think lacking of his presence at home was the main reason for the daddy issues that his 3 daughters have to undergo. My two sisters are both married to older husbands, 15 and 10 years of age gap respectively. The husbands, they are not rich, even inferior than the wives' side, so don't think my sisters got married to older people because of money. They only hoped to reach a destination of happiness, to be with an imaginary father in disguise of a husband, someone who could protect them from social turbulence outside of the house, but I'm not really sure whether they're capable of. Are they able to protect my two older sisters? I'm not sure. 

The father, the brother and three brothers in law, they all need to count on "women" to live, so the image of a man in my life has never been like how written discourse has described. He is small, childish and grumpy. The image of a woman in me notwithstanding is totally different, It's fabricated as a collection of paintings of super women bearing so much responsibility on their shoulders. So do I, I have never carried the thought of depending on a man to go on with my life. I have been trying to obtain knowledge, to build my personality and I have grown up, accompanied the first woman in my life who used to act as a mother taking care of her baby girl.

And, I lost her. Do you know why? I was abusive, right, but it was not the main reason. The main reason was I had long required that girl to play the male part in a lesbian relationship. Honestly, I'm attracted to the masculinity in a beautiful young woman. I don't need a wholly complete man, I don't need an entirely feminine woman either, I want both of them united in one which is so sick. 

And I don't know how to satisfy myself. 

Then, I let it congested, stuck up. There were times I pushed myself to the limit of hard working spirit, to the place where I have no desire. But in reality, it didn't disappear, it was congested to the point I could feel a massive smoking explosion above my head and my depression has recurred. That's how damaged I am. 

The man

The aforementioned man, he has everything it takes to attract me, a father, a mentor, and someone also damaged, weak and sensitive. But he's not the one for me, we're so different, a dichotomous and sharp contrast of the two distinctive worlds. Landing temporarily in his path of inclining to the bright side, I just hope that he could be a better husband and father, genuinely in his heart, not just some words or pictures he shows on social media or in front of other people. 

He thinks I'm childish, he thinks I need to grow up and stop seeing myself as important. Yeah, because our worlds are so different, so I can not understand the way you were brought up or I'm not able to be a part of it. I am just a breath of wind stirred in your confusing phase of life and I will continue to fly far far away from you. I'm not sure after 10 years, as you said, if I could put my work and family above myself or I still keep being a 17-year-old girl who thinks she is the center of the world. I'm not sure. Maybe that time, I will think back of what you have said and contemplate your words, presumably.

Possibly after today, you and me are not going to see each other again, just as how I started my body counting and made a stop at you. But somehow my heart still pounds real hard every time I think of how tight we have held each other the last time we met. It was like all of my pent-up suffering has flooded out passionately and I need it, but what a pity that I couldn't need it from you.