I should probably be more honest about my life with more people. That's not going to happen.
Most of my posts contain large amounts of sarcasm. This one doesn't. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled program next time.
Internet, you will work for these new, trying times, and all their demands for transparency.
It has been a long... well, let's just go with 'week' here. I have spent more and more of it inside my own mind, attempting to seek out and find certain things that have been bothering me. 'Debugging my own mental processes' would be a good way of putting it, I suppose.
There is, or was, a person in my life whose opinions I held very highly. Higher than my own, on many things, despite disagreeing with some. Probably dangerous. As of late, I'd regrettably started losing contact with said person; it appeared to me I was simply not a part of this person's life anymore. This last Friday, I started an argument between us, in some sort of attempt to fix that, to regain some form of conversation between the two of us. This had worked in the past, but this time... it didn't. Very much did not.
I believe the phrase I received that was most telling was this: 'Because I thought you were a normal human being with empathy and trust?' As far as the person is concerned, I no longer am. Some things aren't easy for me to hear.
Likewise, some things aren't easy for me to say: I spent the rest of the day reeling. Went to work that night, had what my own limited experience describes as a panic attack, followed by a minor psychotic episode, followed by several hours of extreme disorientation and paranoia. It wasn't real pleasant.
But things being the way they are, thank God for my own limited mental elasticity, I managed to work through it. I excused myself from the kitchen for a while, freaked out by myself, regained my composure, and put my thoughts away and myself to work. Then I came home, repeated the process, and drank myself to sleep.
Since then, I've been... okay. Not great, but not willing to put myself through that kind of pain because of someone else's opinion of me. Not saying I don't deserve the opinion; I fucked up, massively, in regards to my relationship with the person, and I doubt very much that I'll ever be able to fix it. And that hurts a lot. But.
My past has wounds in it. My future, as yet, doesn't. Which one do you think I'd rather spend time in?
PS: I'm not talking about any of this publicly because it deserves to be made public. It doesn't, really, and that's why I'm not saying who I'm talking about. It's no one's business, barely ours. I'm saying this because... I'm not really sure why. Because it helps to write about things sometimes. Because it helps to be a sad, emo little fuck on the Internet sometimes. Because this is likely the closest thing to closure for this that I'm going to get. And, really, that's enough for me. It has to be.
(If you're the person I'm talking about, and you manage to read this: I'm sorry. Enjoy your future.)
Internet, you will work for these new, trying times, and all their demands for transparency.
It has been a long... well, let's just go with 'week' here. I have spent more and more of it inside my own mind, attempting to seek out and find certain things that have been bothering me. 'Debugging my own mental processes' would be a good way of putting it, I suppose.
There is, or was, a person in my life whose opinions I held very highly. Higher than my own, on many things, despite disagreeing with some. Probably dangerous. As of late, I'd regrettably started losing contact with said person; it appeared to me I was simply not a part of this person's life anymore. This last Friday, I started an argument between us, in some sort of attempt to fix that, to regain some form of conversation between the two of us. This had worked in the past, but this time... it didn't. Very much did not.
I believe the phrase I received that was most telling was this: 'Because I thought you were a normal human being with empathy and trust?' As far as the person is concerned, I no longer am. Some things aren't easy for me to hear.
Likewise, some things aren't easy for me to say: I spent the rest of the day reeling. Went to work that night, had what my own limited experience describes as a panic attack, followed by a minor psychotic episode, followed by several hours of extreme disorientation and paranoia. It wasn't real pleasant.
But things being the way they are, thank God for my own limited mental elasticity, I managed to work through it. I excused myself from the kitchen for a while, freaked out by myself, regained my composure, and put my thoughts away and myself to work. Then I came home, repeated the process, and drank myself to sleep.
Since then, I've been... okay. Not great, but not willing to put myself through that kind of pain because of someone else's opinion of me. Not saying I don't deserve the opinion; I fucked up, massively, in regards to my relationship with the person, and I doubt very much that I'll ever be able to fix it. And that hurts a lot. But.
My past has wounds in it. My future, as yet, doesn't. Which one do you think I'd rather spend time in?
PS: I'm not talking about any of this publicly because it deserves to be made public. It doesn't, really, and that's why I'm not saying who I'm talking about. It's no one's business, barely ours. I'm saying this because... I'm not really sure why. Because it helps to write about things sometimes. Because it helps to be a sad, emo little fuck on the Internet sometimes. Because this is likely the closest thing to closure for this that I'm going to get. And, really, that's enough for me. It has to be.
(If you're the person I'm talking about, and you manage to read this: I'm sorry. Enjoy your future.)