HAH! It is! :D Didn't even know that.
As with any warm-blooded person on this planet, I have a few things I'm peculiar about. The lesser ones aren't a big problem. Such as if I kiss my fiance's left cheek I have to kiss the right cheek.
I have to stretch in a certain way or it'll drive me nuts.
If I rub my hands with lotion I have to really get in between the fingers at least ten or more times in a certain pattern.
Certain areas on my back, when rubbed, force my body into a weird episode of shivers/convultions.
See, small things. The bigger ones are the more irrational ones. Such as when I refuse to eat red spaghetti sauce becaue it reminds me of the monsters I killed while playing Doom 64 when I was younger.
I hate reheating ground meat beause it looks like cooked brain matter. Though I'm getting better by starting out slow. Today, reheated hamburgers. In the future, Meatloaf, my Arch Nemesis!
There's lots. But the one that amuses/irriates my fiance the most is because of that scene from The Cell. Y'know the one, where a creepy dude takes out what's-his-face's intestines through a hole in his stomach? Yeah, that scene? Creeped me out to the point where I do NOT let anyone NEAR my belly button for fear that their hands will somehow sprout giant drills and make a hole to rip out my insides.
I'm not even kidding. When Mike (that's his name) (okay, yeah, that was probably a "duh" moment) first tried to touch me there, I flipped. Shrieking and hitting of the hands were immediatley had, followed by a growl and a threat of "If you EVER touch me there again I'll... I'll... I'll do something to you!"
Okay, perhaps it's less of an irritation and more amusement for him. Because he keeps doing it. And it really gets on my nerves 'cause I'm seriously afraid! I used to try and overcome this insane perculiarity by slowly touching the inside part of my belly button (gross) or just resting Mike's hand on top of it.
Nope. Not workin'.
Within seconds of having his hand on top of my belly, I can feel that cold pointy point of the drill and immediately have to shove his hand away lest it burrows deep into my tubby flesh.
Yeah, I'm a special girl. :D
Though now that I think about it, there is my one peculiarity that really bugs him. And unfortunately I can't really do anything about it 'cause, well... Here, backstory.
So when I was younger, and unfortunately much like other girls, there was an "incident" with a boy. Granted, mine was a LOT less severe than others. Which makes me feel more like a wuss because of my aversion to certain kinds of movies/tv shows/entertainment things.
See, I have an insane amount of hypersensitivity when it comes to sexual violence of women in entertainment (to the point where I can't even type or say the r-word as you can see here). Most of the time it doesn't interfere with anything, but there are a few points when it does.
Such as when friends come over and we rock out to Rock Band. I refuse to sing the one song (which I've forgotten the name and have scoured the playlist for and now can't find, UGH) because you bellow out for at least 15 seconds the r-word. Yeaaaaah, that's kinda awkward.
Or when a new movie comes out that looks insanely interesting, but because it has scenes depicting the violence I can't watch it. Such as Clockwork Orange or Push, two movies with terrific reviews and highly regarded as good movies to watch that I simply can't bear to see. It's also bothersome when someone talks about a movie and I have to ask if it has sexual violence towards women in it. Then they ususally give me a weird look. >_<
Or when Mike and I are laying in bed and watching Star Trek. Well, the title Violations should've been a tip-off for me. Nope, Captain Oblivious right here. When Deanna Troi begins to remember scenes with Riker and he becomes forceful with her sexually, yeaaaaah... The night went down like this!
"Okay, we're done!" I immediately chirped, lurching too quickly close the laptop lid and buried myself in the blankets and pillows. Mike sighed audibly and we spent the next ten minutes in silence.
We finally talked about it and a long discussion ensured (of which I won't bore you of the details and I can't bring myself to share that much intimacy on the internet anyway. But our sex lives? I'll totally toot the horn about. *dur hur, "toot the horn"*).
So, you'd think I'd be hypersenitive to all kinds, right? Wrong.
During my teen years, I fell in love with online role playing. I'd create characters and people with like-minds would get on a chat system and we'd play together, being our respective characters. In my very early teens I surrounded myself with girls (and probably some boys, but it's the internet, you can never tell) who fell into a particular group- violent gay love between boys/men.
I thrived in this community and spent most, if not all, of my nights surrounded by males kissing, love-making, and, occasionally, raping each other. *headdesks* See, there's the word! I can say it when it comes to men, but with women? I stutter and feel a tightness in my chest.
It's terrible and I feel insanely guilty of it. I've become hypersensitive to women in violent sexual situations, but am desensitized when it comes to men. I know full well it was my way of coping with what happened to me (and to my sister). By hurting the gender that had hurt me, I was "getting back at them".
(I don't want to say heal, 'cause obviously I still have issues.)
What bothers me slightly is that my fiance doesn't quite understand. I mean, I'm not proud of myself. And if I found out a man was raped in real life, I feel terrible! Perhaps not as strongly adverse to it if it were a woman, but I don't go "Oh well, he deserved it". No one deserves that, I don't care what gender you are.
I've tried several times to take my hypersensitivity down a notch or two, but both times were dismal failures. Plus, a voice in the back of my head's going "WHY do you want to expose yourself to this?". I feel sick when I even catch a glimpse of it on the TV 'n at, so what makes me think I can endure it for more than two seconds?
Still not too sure on what I should do. On one hand, why would I want to be desensitized? On the other, I strive for equality in every portion of my life. Shouldn't that also apply to this?
Ugh! D: For once I have no clue how to wrap up a post other than to say I'm full of conflict.
Who is this crazy bitch?
- Tubby Woman
- Pennsylvania, United States
- My name is Laura. I'm 26-years-old. I love cats and books and Asian ball-jointed dolls. I'm a nerd and I'm happily married to an equally nerdy husband. I'm 5'5" and weigh about 235/40. I have brown hair, bullshit brown eyes, and freckles. I also got a big ass, thick thighs, tubby fingers and toes, flabby arms, a round belly full of good food, and chipmunk cheeks that haven't gone away since I was 5. I will be buried with them, I am sure.