Bare with me here.
Sometimes the feelings you suppress affect your physical health, therefore, what irritability I internalize has taken over my scalp in that mine is eternally flakey. I wash it with conditioners, I wash it thoroughly, with lots of shampoo, with dandruff shampoo, baby shampoo, daily for week, then once a week then once a month. Right after I finish on all occasions, my scalp is still covered with a film. It just won't go away. It's there all the time and it's unavoidable. I used a product that I applied to my scalp after washing and it made my hair stink. The guy I was sleeping with even pointed it out and I felt ugly. To have anyone mention it only makes me feel gross.
Am I really as powerless as I feel? Why is this torturing me? I feel like such a wimp.
The one thing I've learned is never to control anything. My auditions, my relationships and my feelings. I've been struggling to control things in my life that I wrestle with them to the point of exhaustion. To control is to wear myself out. To think about the trauma is to entrap me with tension, which makes me tighten even more and adds more tension. If I just relax myself, the trauma isn't taking a hold of me. If I remind myself to let go of control, then I can reverse what I've been trying to do all this time.
I might get rid of my diaryland diary. I've been so paranoid about its discovery that I should just kill it already. This one is more private, unless someone betrays me completely.
I don't know what I'm going to do with my online diaries. What happens if I died tomorrow? They'd just expire and these' would be all for nought. I'd rather leave something else of meaning behind if I'm going to do this. What if my family and friend discovered them dead or alive?
I'm tired. Must go to bed now.
Another thing. I was contemplating the idea of casual sex. Having sex with people I know and then being broken hearted is too much. They start off as friends, become lovers then they turn their backs on me and they're out of my life. With strangers, it wouldn't matter anyway. I waste this pent up frustration on people that shouldn't be trusted and I get disappointed when I could dump this on people that won't matter anyway. Still in the work, that one. I haven't done anything about it. I still go to work, come home, interrupted by auditions/rehearsals/performances now and again. Sometimes I hate sex because when I have it, I want more and don't get it. I'm just one ball of bent up-ness that's waiting to burst and splatter all over everyone.
Ol'what's his name: he can go off and have all the sex he wants with other people. He'll just ruin me and I'll feel like a victim again. It's either sex and feel like a loser or no sex and feel unwanted. The three years of celibacy didn't get rid of any trauma; the last batch of sex I had only pushed aside any trauma I was dealing with in my body.
Man, I'm sleepy!