October 13, 2014 by adbesserer
Does everyone remember John Locke from the long gone television series Lost? Well, if you have no idea what I’m talking about, I’ll explain the relevant details.
John Locke grew up in foster care, and although he is very bright, he doesn’t achieve “success” in the world off the island, where is plane crashes in the first episode, because he’s consumed by this longing for a family. At one point, I think in the third season, there’s a flashback to him working on an apple orchard fronting a grow op, because the operation is sort of cult like–he finds a family there.
One day, he picks up a young hitchhiker, and he feels that he knows what the kid needs, a family, so he brings him to the orchard. The only thing is that he doesn’t know that this hitchhiker is an FBI agent who has been sent on a mission to get enough info to bring down the grow-op, and that Mr. Locke was chosen to bring the hitchhiker there specifically because he is “amenable for coercion”.
Last night, after I got a token message from Mr. Fetish, I called a friend to tell him about the events of that morning. Before the events of the morning even happened, I had pegged Mr. Fetish as looking for something that he thought he could get from me because of what he’d read on my blog. I was pretty proud of myself because I’d thought I’d broken this cycle that’s been happening since my break-up with the guy with the house. The only thing is that I was wrong about a few things.
I’ve talked a bit about Mr. Winter Kiss, and how he wooed me and led me on. For some reason, that’s as far as my education went. This whole fetishism thing caught me off guard. Although Mr. Fetish was telling me, basically, that he wanted me to be a speechless, anonymous part of his fantasy, my brain tuned all that out. All I could hear was all the flattering things he’d said about my blog, a blog that exposes how ,not too long ago, I was depressed enough to want to end my own life, so why would he choose me? Was I, a person in search for a family, on the weekend of Thanksgiving, a week before my 31st birthday, amenable for coercion? And if I am, how do I change that?
So, yeah, back to my friend. We’ll call him Mr. Puff. Mr. Puff sounded angry with me when I told him what I’d done. And, beyond that, he seemed to understand Mr. Fetish more than I did! And I’m not saying that I was even attracted to Mr. Fetish, because I wasn’t, but all I could focus on was whether or not he was attracted to me, which, as I said in my last essay, was a source of anxiety for me. So Mr. Puff ends up saying exactly what I think the psychoanalyst, Dr. Old Guy, was trying to get at: am I trying to hurt myself on purpose? Is what I did a sort of emotional cutting? Did I put myself in a situation to feel rejected on purpose, even though I know this guy is not at all what I’m looking for?
Did Mr. Fetish see me as amenable for coercion?
I hate to write essays full of questions. All I can hear is the voice of Carey Bradshaw in my head, and I fucking despise Carey Bradshaw. This is admittedly not my most artful piece.
I don’t want to make myself sound victimized because that doesn’t really encapsulate the breadth of what I feel. I see yesterday as a moment of growth for me, even if I did something that wasn’t smart for so many reasons. I don’t think there is anything wrong or weird about fetishism.
I think it’s clear that I have some work to do on my self-esteem, but at least there IS a voice in my head, somewhere, the same voice that allows me to reveal all of these aspects of myself on this blog that says “I don’t give a fuck!” And that makes me hopeful.
On a more festive note, for the Canadians reading my blog today, please enjoy these links to weird facts about Turkeys!