dropping the oreo

I've mentioned this event here and to others in the past. It's the one that I place as the focal point of my behavioral illness, the one where I preemptively reject others out of an overemphasized fear of them rejecting me. It started when I was maybe three or four, following my mother around the house like the momma's boy that I was. One of her daily routines as a stay-at-home mom was to go downstairs and smoke a joint or part of one on a green high chair/barstool near the laundry area in our unfinished basement. As she went, so went I, close behind. This pissed her off to no end. And she'd belt out an audible 'fuck' as I was no more than a foot from her towering leg. I was a clingy little shit. And the research bears out that when we're deprived of love and affection our pursuit of this thing kicks into overdrive. I suspect that's what was driving me--the paradoxical reaction to being shunned by being more clingy, desperate, and needy for affection. 

I suppose one of my mother's diversions at that time was to feed me a ready-to-hand sweet, so that I could be preoccupied while she descended to the basement for her routine joint. She had handed me a cookie, and Oreo cookie to be precise. Nevertheless, with cookie in hand I followed her down. As I descended the last short flight of stairs, she spotted me and belted out her audible 'fuck.' I never got near her in these instances. I stayed on the stairs maybe because I was told. But I do specifically remember doing one thing, one action, which would forever define my relationship with others for the rest of my life. I dropped the Oreo. I dropped it to feel sorry for myself. I dropped it to deprive myself of something sweet, coveted, tasty, desired. I actively took control of my sadness and I've been doing so ever since. 

I only bring this up because I normally go through an obsessive self-audit to determine what I did wrong and what I can do to remedy the situation. I've gone to my doctor seeking psychological advice. This was in reference to another motherly mental health sabotage, potty training. I needed help getting over the fear of urinating in public, something that has gotten increasingly worse since my mid-20s and on. It keeps me at home, picking public places carefully, and finding ways to manage and avoid the triggers associated with 'choking at the bowl.' That being said, the drugs the psychologist put me on didn't help. She did point me toward attachment styles as a way of self-knowledge about my ailment. Point taken. But in this situation I was dealing with a very specific behavior of not pursuing what, in retrospect, are obvious signs of interest by interesting other women in my midst. I had done this in 2018 to a girl bagging groceries at a Schnuck's where my great aunt shopped. I had completely rationalized her away as too young, too different from me, too dangerously independent to be with, and so I destroyed that opportunity the way I always do--through inaction. I did the same here recently when I went to a grocery store I frequent and one of the stockers was off the clock shopping on a Friday night. She smiled at me a few times. I even asked her a question, "where's the coffee?" but rarely did I make much eye contact. I saw her in the parking lot and I smiled and she waved, then I didn't see her again at that store, at least not until I went on a Thursday evening. I choked, shopped right next to her as she did her job, and not once did I acknowledge her or ask any questions. She wasn't looking at me, nor was I looking at her. It feels like I have done my best to destroy another opportunity, another woman reaching out through space and time, by not following up, making eye contact, smiling, talking, showing interest or enthusiasm. I was dropping the Oreo. 

This form of self-sabotage stems from a familiarity, a veritable identity with loneliness. I do things to ensure that I remain that way, and more specifically to remain sulking and pouting about my loneliness. To be fair, when a girl reaches out and smiles the likelihood that I'll have something normal and confident to say are slim. I'm blindsided and at best I prefer to retreat and watch her from a distance, size her up, psych myself up, and maybe begin to imagine us together before I can try for myself. I've done that one too, and it pretty much ended as one would expect. I lack the follow-through to go past 'hi.' I don't ask for numbers. I rarely ask out, especially not in person, and I when I do I am greeted with something vicious, cutting, rejecting. And maybe that's just what I want, rejection. It's what I know. It's all I know. Deep inside I see my happiness as an illusion. My relationship to truth is through cynicism and solitude. I'm not a cheerleader for any cause because that emotion is not something I feel genuinely. I can offer support for those in sadness because it is something that I do know. I help others because I care. But if I see a girl who I'm attracted to or find at least attractive or interesting I clam up and hide my emotions utterly. I'm dropping the Oreo.