saying sorry
Today has been a mediocre day. It's worse now. I just spent a few hours with Mark's family. We went there for dinner. I was against it from the start, but being a Wednesday night, and us having no real plans for dinner or anything, I couldn't say no. It was boring. The food wasn't even that nice. I sat there again in my own little world, just like I always do. I didn't say much, although we had a little book discussion when Mischa mentioned she was reading the "Tomorrow When the War Began" series, and we talked about that for a little while. Michelle made one effort to ask me if I was still annoyed at Louise for not coming to the Dance concert, and then some half hearted effort to ask me and Mark if we'd watched that dumb Leave Britney (Spears) alone video that's been out for like a year now.
Am I ever going to feel comfortable around them? No, probably not. I can imagine them sitting around after we leave talking about how, even after six months, I still sit there all shy and not talking to anyone. Can they really blame me? Sure, I was a bitch to them, but they were ruder to me. They were just plain mean. At one point, Mark and I had broken up and attempted to go our seperate ways, but they were still harassing me. I think I remember telling them that they'd won, but they still didn't give up. I was rude to them, but only ever in retaliation. Sure I wrote a blog talking about how I felt, but that's how I coped, because I had no one else to talk to about it. I couldn't talk to Mark, because he was the reason they were treating me like that, and even when we did get back together, complaining did nothing to stop it.
It's funny, because I'm going back and retagging my LJ entries and saving all my blogs to word documents, and I started blogging on LJ right in the middle of that saga. So I'm going back and reading about how I felt the first time I went back there (it was bad, I wanted to hurt myself, and people that know me would swear black and blue that I've never wanted to hurt myself before) and how they treated me and how I was so convinced that they were going to come out and yell at me and she was going to threaten to sue me all over again. I actually thought that she would, but I knew that there was no way in hell that she could.
I haven't forgiven them, and I haven't forgotten it. Mark always gets annoyed because I won't just get over it, but I've dealt with people like that my entire life. They're just mean people. Sure they were annoyed at me (to the max actually) and people say things when they're angry, but everything they said, they meant. I said things and I meant them too. They never took it back, and "sorry" doesn't mean that they didn't mean what they said. "Sorry" is just an excuse, and to be honest, I hate that word. What does it mean? It's like "I apologise for letting that opinion of you slip out of my mouth when I was screaming at you to fuck off because I honestly hate you" when you say "I'm sorry for what I said". It doesn't mean that you meant it any less, it just means that you wish you didn't say it because for some reasons, the situation changed. They probably thought they could say whatever they liked to me when Mark and I had broken up because they probably thought I'd never be in their life again. I said what I said knowing that the only thing I wanted was to have Mark back in my life, and that after I'd gotten that (because I knew he still wanted me) they were just going to have to deal with me.
Will I ever forgive them? Probably not. I'm not a forgiving person. I know that people always mean what they say, because if you didn't mean it you wouldn't say it. I know I'm a bitch, and I'm hard to get along with, but I retaliated to them and everything I said was true, whereas they were grasping at straws calling me a slut because I was bisexual. I've been with Mark for four years, and at that point we'd been together for just three years, and they still didn't know me enough to know that I wasn't a slut. I get so riled up over this that it's crazy, and you could swear that it was just the day after all this had happened. I don't forgive people, and yes I am an angry person, but what's the point of forgetting that someone hurt you so bad you didn't want to live? I feel like I've always got to keep my guard up incase they lash out at me again.
I know that someone is going to tell me to let this go. I don't think I can do that. I mean, things like this don't rule my life, because there are times when they don't matter. I only think of things like this when something is brought up that brings back all the memories. I keep things like this in mind because I need to know exactly who I'm dealing with; I need to know exactly what sort of person they are so that I can react when they act like that again. I don't dwell on this all the time, just when something happens. Being in their house is not a comfortable experience for me. I hate everything about it. It used to be a happy place for me, but now it just represents anger and hate and I can't be there for too long.
So this has been a really angry entry. I don't think I intended it to be. I can't be bothered recounting my last two days because they've been boring. I've had no urge to come and write, except for about spending dinner with Mark's family. It was a little bit of an off day right from the beginning. It's never good when you get woken up by your work ringing to ask you to work. It's worse when you say no and then can't go back to sleep. And then it gets worse when you wash clothes and can't hange them out because the people have come to mow the little amount of grass that we have. I did get some clothes from Mum's though, even though I intended to do heaps more.
I need a life strategy rethink. I seem to be down a lot more than I am up.