attachment disordered?

Several thoughts are running through my head on this lovely Wednesday evening. I am waiting for the Lost to start. I am writing from my new blue sitting room. We emptied the spare bedroom and painted it a bright blue. We then added an even brighter blue couch. Hence the name: the Blue Room.

I've been thinking about touch. I don't really like to be touched. In general I try to avoid it. My mom tells me that I didn't really liked to be touched as a baby, either. The only person I touch on a regular basis is my husband. Recently I realized that those in my life know that I don't like to be touched, so they don't touch me. This realization made me sad. I thought that those close to me didn't really like to be touched either, but actually they are just respecting what they think are my boundaries. I should be glad that people don't intrude in my space, but really it just makes me feel like a freak.

Joel and I have been talking about having children. This conversation has increased exponentially and I suspect we will soon start trying. However, I am afraid. What if I don't really liked being touched by my children? Will I totally fuck them up in the head? Then I ask myself why I am asking myself questions about hypothetical children.

All of these contemplations have led me to believe that I might be attachment disordered. I know I'm not. I had great parents, who loved me lots; however, the thought creeps in.

I learned last week that my ex-husband killed a guy. Seriously, Jeremy and another officer tazed a guy to death while on duty. He's a police officer in Moberly, Mo. I got a call from a PI in Missouri who works for the lawyer representing the family of the deceased in a civil suit. The PI said that Jeremy was almost fired from a different police department and has had multiple investigations for inappropriate conduct. Jeremy's been cleared of any criminal wrong doing, but I suspect that the police department will probably be paying out large sums to the family.

Oh, and who the fuck moves to the mid-West?!?

After I heard this news I moved through several stages. First shock, then I googled the shit out of it, then I felt like I was reliving my divorce. Later I was telling some coworkers about it and I started to laugh. I am not at all trying to be disrespectful to the family of the man who was killed, but I couldn't help finding it so fucked up that I laughed. Seriously, I was married to a possible murderer! I was either going to cry or laugh. I chose the later.

I was recently pretty jealous when I saw some pics a friend posted on Facebook. She had a dinner party. I didn't even really know she had other friends outside of our social group. It was bizarre. Mostly, I felt like an idiot for feeling jealous. I spent the entire day telling myself to shut up. When I shared my feelings with a mutual friend of ours, she started to laugh. She felt that same way when she saw the pics.

All of these thoughts above lead me to believe that I might be crazy. Who feels these things. Sometimes I don't really like being a human. I don't like having to learn or grow. I just want to stay the same. I no longer want to have to process through things.

Oh well.