Post Traumatic Dating Syndrome
Yes, I’m self diagnosed, but I’m pretty sure this is the affliction that I’m suffering from.
It’s kinda nice to put a name to it. So the next time a man asks why I’m so weird about dating, I’m just gonna say “PTDS”.
“You mean PTSD?” he will respond.
“Nope, PTDS, Post Traumatic Dating Syndrome, it’s a thing.”
“Uuuummmm, yea, ok.” He’ll stammer.
And that will be the end of that.
I started out with hope. I actually had a relationship of about 8-9 months. He is a great guy, we had a lot of fun together, but we always felt more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend. We never had any disagreements; we both went along with whatever the other one wanted to do.
Eventually, I could feel myself drifting away. I was craving some romance. And, that just isn’t his thing. He also had 4 children, 2 older girls and 2 younger boys. I really liked the girls, the boys were very difficult. They were unruly, they knew how to behave in public, yet they chose not to. It wasn’t entirely their fault; good behavior wasn’t encouraged, nor was bad behavior punished. I got to the point where I hated going out with them, because people would automatically assume that I was the mother.
I spent a lot of time at his house; I had 2 drawers, some closet space and I left a body pillow there (along with other bedding, because his were unacceptable). This is what happened the final night that I spent there…
We were getting ready to go to sleep; I turned down the bed and noticed that my body pillow wasn’t there. “Where is my body pillow?” I asked.
“Ralph (not his real name) had it, I think.” He replied. And he walks toward Ralph’s room.
I just stand there.
He returns from Ralph’s room, pillow in hand.
“Here you go” he says as he hands me the pillow.
Now, if you are not familiar with 10 year old boys, they smell bad most of the time. I don’t know if this is some sort of safety mechanism that the G-man installed to help prevent abductions or what, but they’re stinky… they just are.
So, guess what else was stinky?? You got it, my body pillow. A pillow that I lie my face on. Gggggrrrrrrrrrr.
“This stinks” I said handing it back to him. It went right over his head.
I probably sound like a bitch. But some things are personal, intimate. Pillows, underwear etc… and people’s belongings should be respected. They would even wear my slippers, my robe, etc… I just couldn’t take it, and I knew it wouldn’t improve.
I faded out.
We are still friends, he still works on my car, we were much better as friends anyway.
For those of you that do not online date, I am going to give you an example of some of the email that I receive, and I’m sure I’m not alone in getting these types of messages.
I cannot let it be said that I do not offer constructive criticism, as is evidenced by this series of messages. I am pretty sure that it was falling on deaf ears though. I like to think that I do what I can to improve the fabric of society, by helping guys not to be so douchebaggy.
Sadly, this isn’t the first (or 50th) message of this sort that I’ve received. Honestly, I probably get more of these than sincere messages. It makes it pretty hard to have hope.
Are all guys creepo pervs that just want to see my boobies?
I’m a realist. I know that the majority of men love boobies and are generally eager to see them. But, if a man plays his cards right, he could see them without being a creepo perv. I just can’t see the creepo perv angle EVER working on the normal woman (or a woman like me). Is it desperation? They’ve tried everything else?? This fella seems to think that he has, although, I’m pretty sure that he has NOT.
I do think that the anonymity of dating sites really brings out the dark side of men that they kept hidden from the general public. It’s almost like there is always a full moon on the dating sites.
Let’s pass out the wolfsbane…
That’s probably the only way I’ll have in faith in dating.
Maybe……….. I should carry one of these handy dandy little werewolf kits…. You know, just in case…