1. A sizeable enough proportion of people whose friendship I felt secure enough in - not close, not affectionate necessarily, but secure in - turn out to despise me
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HAHA true, but goddamn i wish there was something to be done to make you an at least grumpily content personality disorder. it's fine, if you're wildly dysfunctional. everything about you is fine--much, much more than fine, you're amazing and i just assume everyone knows it, but i wish very much for you to not suffer through every day like there's gasoline burning up your synapses (my brother spilled a cup of gasoline on his balls and stopped at a diner, ran into the bathroom, and sat on the sink. he came out with his gasoline-soaked pants down and his nuts raw and red in front of the customers and pathetically asked the manager if he could buy a uniform. they gave him some pants, baffled, and let him go. imagine what it would do to your BRAIN). and i think it's probably really stupid to say "go to a doctor, i think you may have outdone yourself on being crazy" to someone who a) is afraid of doctors, and b) has done that before. but i think that's the extent of my advice (which wasn't even asked for but humans who see their favorite humans suffering start spitting it out anyway) because i don't know quite know how to not be suffocatingly unhappy either.
*settles in* we're all disasters, my brother just happens to be the one in women's underwear. did i ever tell you about the lettuce?
okay, look, one time, gay steve pulled a head of cabbage out of the fridge, and started eating leaves from it, casually. my brother notices, and says, "are you just eating cabbage?" "shit yeah. i bought it when i was high because i thought it was lettuce. it wasn't. but by god i've been eating it on ham sandwiches like it IS lettuce."
gay steve's brother, wesley, notorious trainwreck and associate of the man who TRADED OUR TENT FOR METH goddamn, looks up in shock. "YOU MEAN TO SAY THAT'S NOT LETTUCE?"
it's worse than that, 'steve' isn't even gay steve's name (maybe we can call my brother straight marcus. "i was checking gay steve's penis for chlamydia in the bathroom and it looked fine. smelled fine. tasted great"). his name is josh. i didn't find that out until 2 years after i met him.
there was a dude i was friends with/banging (the two things were interchangeable for a few years) at uni who even his tutors thought was called "jeff" because i'd called him that so relentlessly, whoops. there'd be a certain irony in calling you, for example, straight betsy.
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okay, look, one time, gay steve pulled a head of cabbage out of the fridge, and started eating leaves from it, casually. my brother notices, and says, "are you just eating cabbage?" "shit yeah. i bought it when i was high because i thought it was lettuce. it wasn't. but by god i've been eating it on ham sandwiches like it IS lettuce."
gay steve's brother, wesley, notorious trainwreck and associate of the man who TRADED OUR TENT FOR METH goddamn, looks up in shock. "YOU MEAN TO SAY THAT'S NOT LETTUCE?"
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