Love Addiction Workshop

Posted on October 23, 2013


This weekend I am going to a workshop  for love addicts.

I’m not 100% sure whether I am a love addict.

Sometimes I am pretty sure I am.

I can have moments, where I crave, fantasise, desire intensely a certain person whom I can’t have. If I am in crisis mode, it can feel like to me that if I just ‘had’ that person – in my arms, or just in my company – then I would feel better. Everything would be better.

It doesn’t happen a lot, but when it does it feels very intense, and I do feel like without them, without having access to them, its like i’m going through some sort of cold turkey. I’ll make myself feel better by going window shopping online across various dating or sex sites. Only i’ll rarely meet with anyone, after all, I rarely fancy anyone enough to go there.

I think this sense of ‘addiction’ is all linked to when the object of my affection doesn’t give me what I want.

If its a boyfriend, he could be unavailable due to work loads, partying too much or family matters. Or maybe he’s pulling away. I never know which one to really trust that it is, and I default to the negative always. I always suspect, deep down, that he’s pulling away. My biggest fear is that someone gets to know me, the see my vulnerabilities and insecurities and it turns them off. As if the person they fell for is my outward persona, the strong charismatic confidant women who they thought was ‘out their league’ but actually, really isn’t it. Or so, this is how the voices in my head go.

When someone starts to ‘pull away’, it takes me to a dark needy place. I want them more. I suddenly feel like I love them more, more than I ever did before. It scares me. I want to push them away. Cause an argument, act nonchelant like I don’t care. I fight the feelings. I repress my jealousy. I hold back being needy. I do everything in my power to protect them, and the relationship, from being exposed to what’s in my head.

The relationships that last are the ones where my partner comes back to me, gives me attention again, loves me again basically with all their heart – before I manage to fuck things up by having an emotional breakdown.

The relationships (or partners) that can’t handle it, are the ones that end very quickly after I end up exploding my emotions like a shot gun to the soul.

Then there’s the guy for whom I’m on the receiving end of his possible BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder – my diagnosis, not his) and Aspergers tendancies. The pattern is always the same. He says he loves me. He says he wants me. That it’s complicated. That he’s perpectually missing me but his quest for happiness dominates his readiness to be anything substantial for me. Its dramatic – like something out of a movie (and guess what? movie’s are not real life) and I put all our ‘stuff’ to one side for a minute and just live in the moment. Living in that moment feels right. It could be our last time. My last chance to be spontaneous with the person I love. A goodbye kiss. Maybe.

Goodbye then leads to hello. I’ll relinquish control for a moment and let us pretend and fantasise a future together. A future we could have ‘some day’ in the ‘future’. When we’ve sorted things out. When we’re ‘ready’.  It feels good. To feel so wanted. Someone’s soulmate. They want you too. Before we know it we’re contemplating doing it, actually giving it a go. Thinking about it. Questioning if its sensible, debating whether its the right time, if it will work. His eyes are bright, and his manner is vulnerable but keen. Really keen. When we get together, that’s ‘it’ he says.

I’m the one.

We hang out a bit. It’s great. It feels like maybe we’ve really figured it out this time. We analyse, we hug, we reminisce, we kiss.

Days pass. The texts are intense, the tone is excited. It gets horny. We arrange to meet again. We’re excited.  All systems go.

Then BAM. He goes quiet. Out of range. No signal. Can’t get through.

Rejects me, before I can reject him. It’s cold, cruel, unbearable and ever so painfully soul destroying. You question everything you know about humanity, and find yourself needing to understand. Understand. Understand. But you’re left with little understanding because the rejection never comes with a warning, instruction manual or considered thought that maybe I ought be let in on the secret.

Sometimes I feel quite zen about it, I see it for what it is and I can process it and live a relatively normal existence. A bit sad and frustrated maybe, but not all the time.

As does he. Although he’s frustrated and unhappy, majority of the time. He wants to be with me. Or so he says. That when he gets me, it utterly terrifies him. The responsibility of holding another person’s heart in his hand, or under his shoe – with a ten tonne weight about to bear down on him, is too much to bear.

Or so he says.

Ok look, maybe he is only just figuring out why he does what he does. Perhaps he’s not a totally shit person. Or a manipulative arsehole.

Maybe he is an innocent (to a certain extent) in all this too.

And so the cycle goes.

And here I am over six years later.

So i’m going to a Love Addiction workshop at the weekend.

I’ll keep you posted.

Posted in: Journal, The Truth