Miki Maunders

Crying, Trauma, Threesomes, Dreams

I have struggled with writing this entire month. I feel overwhelmingly inspired by the world and people around me for good and evil, but although I have so much to write about, I find it hard to put the words out there. So, I’ve decided to start with a stream of consciousness. 

I’ve been mulling over the term “the body keeps the score.” as I approach the anniversaries of the hard times I faced two years ago. I hadn’t cried about these things in a very long time. I least expected to cry about it in the arms of the boy I’m currently seeing. Wholly embarrassed and ashamed, I  apologized over and over as I rushed myself to finish sobbing, even with a kind voice holding me tight and telling me it was okay. It wasn’t until then that I realized I never saw myself being in this position again, vulnerable and comfortable enough to cry in the arms of someone who’s seen my naked body. Still, again, my bones know more than the mind does at times, and my muscle memory surpasses my mental memory, and my body will react to my pain before my brain has time to process why water falls from my eyes, to begin with. 

I’ve never liked therapy. I have strong thoughts on how therapy has made some people worse when it comes to intercommunication and empathy (controversial and probably just wrong opinion btw). But regardless, I had a tough winter. I recently talked with my mom, who said, “You’ve always had tough winters,” I couldn’t disagree. I recently realized that a new job doesn’t have a better life, which was very hard to reckon with. Although my new job is still immensely better than my old one, I don't like WFH. I crave the ability to have relationships with coworkers, good or bad, and without the in-person connection, it feels all like a game until I realize some people rely on my work, and I am being paid for it. But still, it feels like a game, making it easier not to focus on it. And when I don’t focus, I don’t work. And when I don’t work, I feel ashamed, worthless, and stupid. My biggest insecurity is that I’m stupid and that I don’t know enough or retain information well enough. I was never excruciatingly bad at school, but my mediocrity always bothered me. I needed meds to help me focus and not want to hate myself because I couldn’t sit down and write a blog about “Ed Tech” for one hour. I’m now on an antidepressant that makes me eat less and drunk faster, but I hate myself less and I still feel my emotions and have libido in the way I want so I can’t complain. My psychiatrist is the same age as me. Maybe younger. I joke that I could “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” her. But I am far too lazy for that. 

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I’ve been obsessed with listening to “brown noise” on Spotify to go to sleep, but when I first started, I began having vivid dreams that spoke directly to my current fears. One was my fear of commitment. I’ve been struggling with “putting my eggs in one basket.” When I was younger, I thought having a steady roster of people you’re seeing was essential, even if you know you like one particular person. You would commit to them wholeheartedly as soon as you hear the words “Will you be my girlfriend?” but if that person leaves you, you don’t want to look foolish, and you don’t want to feel alone. Not only does that sound so fucking stupid now, but I am frankly too tired of it. But it still scares me. In a recent dream, I went on a date with someone else, and I knew I went on the date knowing that I had someone else I liked. We had drinks at a bar near me. After the date, we walked back to my apartment and began to make out on my bed. While we’re making it, I see a couple stumble into my doorway and walk towards my room. The woman plops her tall and bloodied date on my couch in my room. 

“Do you have any ice? Gauze?  Please help. He fell, and he won’t stop bleeding,” she yelled at me, but not in a panic, just in a loudness. The man was groaning. 

“How did you get in here?” I asked, quite calmly actually. 

“We followed you from the bar. Can you help, please?” 

I confusingly obliged and went to my freezer to help his swelling. As I looked in my freezer, by the 10’s, people started filling in my apartment. Coworkers, strangers, and ex-lovers. I began yelling, “What the fuck are you doing here? Get out of my apartment.” They ignored me and started setting up for a party. At some point, I sat on my living room couch and watched everyone. My ex-boyfriend walked in wearing a suit, joined by his two best friends, who were also wearing suits. They were the only ones who greeted me; they silently walked over, shook my hand, and left. I started crying from confusion. 

My mother then walked in, screaming at me: 

“Where is your basket?” 

“What?” I asked, again quite calmly. 

“Your basket…you have to grab your eggs..put them in your basket. Come on, hurry!” 

I looked at her with a sad confusion that was mainly just exhaustion. And then, one by one, came chickens running around my apartment floor. And they started laying eggs.  I suddenly had a basket in my hands, and I picked them up. That’s all I remember. 

I deleted Hinge the next day. 

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I saw an early screening of Challengers with my bestie, Ana. We both had rough weeks and I think only the sexy threesome movie could cheer us up from our funks. I love Luca Guadagnino, and I’m pretty defensive about him. I even watched his HBO miniseries, which no one (but my comrade Matthew) watched, and I think it’s one of my top 10 favorite TV series when I really sit with its impact on me. I did not think I would love Challengers. I adore Zendaya, but I worried she might not be my favorite actress. I didn’t know much about that Mike Faist guy. I like Josh O’Connor because I want to lick his big ears. Challengers was mind-blowingly sexy. Zendaya gave the best performance of her career; she was womanly, domineering, and erotic. I have grown very fond of Mike Faist and will dream of him often, as I will Josh O'Connor, and his protruding boyish ears and a smile that is both charming and conniving. Movies should always evoke feelings, even if those feelings are a horniness so distraught you have to run home, pray your vibrator is charged, and that you can find a suitable MMF threesome porn video in under 15 minutes. Once I settled sexually, I realized I was still wired from the large cherry coke I drank. I stayed up watching basketball, texting the boy I am dating, and looking at pictures of shirtless Mike Faist while curled up in my bed. 

I’ve been very intrigued by my Enneagram Type. I am a Type 9, and my core desire is inner peace, and my core fear is losing connection. I never thought a test would be able to unravel my fears and desires in that way, but it was accurate. I’m at a place where I’m very stressed out about my inner peace being disrupted. I’m not happy at my job. I’m dating someone I like, and I need a new roommate. The roommate is the most stressful. I love my roommate now and feel too old to love another, which may sound ridiculous, but it’s how I feel. I love my friends, but I do not believe in living with them because I don’t want to disturb the peace of our relationship and have it ruined by a new type of relationship. Friendship is different when you co-habitat with them, similar to romantic relationships when you co-habitat with them. I’ve tried that and it failed miserably. The roommate process has been overwhelming, and I don’t enjoy letting my judgment of people, solely on social media presence, come first. But again, I will be 26 in July; I have a 401K and don’t want to live with someone who describes their IG as a “persona,” or a has dog (sorry). But I would like a nice quiet person with a cat. And a couch. Because I will need one. 

I am lost on what else I have to ramble on but in the spirit of trying new things when it comes to writing let's do a fun  Miki update: 

What I’m Reading: Apple’s Never Fall by Liane Moriarty. A mother goes missing and her four kids are left to wonder and figure out what happened. I’m reading it with my ex-coworkers now book club girls, and I love it.  

What I’ve Been Watching: Shōgun is the best show currently on TV, if you haven’t watched you’re missing out on a spectacular moment in television. I also watched Baby Reindeer on Netflix, which was what I thought was a thriller about stalking, but it ended up being a brave, introspective story about trauma. Phenomenal and vulnerable in a way I could only wish to get courage out of myself. I already spoke on Challengers, but some recent movies I’ve loved: Monkey Man, Problemista, Millers Crossing, and Your Name, left me with an inspiration and appreciation for storytelling. 

What I’ve Been Listening To:  Brazilian Tropicalia, Cowboyonce, The Comp-Het Chappell Roan Pop Song of the Year, Fievel is Glague, The Kings of Indie, Vampire Weekend, King of Dime Square Chanel Beads