"Toxic Hormonal Waste" lol
I need to vent, and this is for my own personal use so if you don’t care just skip this. Let’s start a year and a half ago. It was about this time that I was starting to fall in love with someone else’s girlfriend. Yeah, bad decision right? It’s frustrating to no end. The problem is that my high school fascination with figuring out other people sort of went wrong in college. Instead, I’ve turned it a sort of dump for people’s emotions. Sure, this has allowed me to scale social ladders unbelievably fast, as well climb to the top of several student organizations at unbelievable speeds, but in the end I’m stuck with the dead weight of other people’s emotions when I should probably be focusing on my own. But back to the story, I was falling more and more disgustingly head-over-heels for Ms. SomeoneElsesGirlfriend. It was my own fault. I was always the one there to listen to whatever emotional breakdown that was happening that week or there at parties to save her from the typical creeps. I was too available when she was completely unavailable. Things got bad. She went away for the summer to study; I stayed at home and worked. Now is where the story gets really interesting. While Ms. SomeoneElsesGirlfriend was away, I started to become friends with Mr. SomeoneElse. Yeah, my life was on a cliff staring at fucked up at that point. So, she comes back and school starts again, as well as our relationship. As things picked up one of my saving graces, incredible self-awareness, kicked in. I knew things would just get worse for me if I didn’t make a change. By the end of October things got horrible for me, I finally manned up and made a move, the wrong one. To spare the obvious details, it failed horribly. The night ended with me wrecking the majority of the interior of my house, and putting an end to a nasty rat infestation that was plaguing the place. So, after that incident things simmered for a few days. Finally, she said we had to talk. And be saying “we,” she of course meant “I.” She talked for a while about how what I felt was stupid, she was in love with Mr. SomeoneElse. I told her we weren’t hanging out anymore. She cried. I left. A few weeks later she yelled at me, made me look like more of an ass than I actually am, cried some more and spent the rest of the night drinking and dancing with me. Yeah, I constantly fail at life. By January, I was literally drinking myself yellow because of her. We spent most of spring arguing. It got to the point where we were screaming at each other in committee/public/in front of friends. And then one day she took it to a whole new level, and I just broke, and I didn’t care anymore. It was kind of like watching a balloon break, or remembering it now it was like vomiting after drinking too much. In March I became really close friends with Mr. SomeoneElse. At this point I would go as far as to call this guy not just my roommate, but my brother. And he would consider this story a compliment to his taste in women.
The school year ended with me in an unbelievable mood. My grades were top notch, I was in good spirits and I was leaving for my great journey to Russia. I never felt so free. Russia made go a little bit crazier to tell the truth, and probably pushed me a bit closer to definable alcoholism. But I found myself in Siberia. Watching the sun rise on the cliffs of Olkhon with nothing to think about except wondering where the waters of Lake Baikal started and the foggy sky ended, I was at peace there, in a way I never had been before.
I thought I was ready to come back. WRONG. After moving in with Mr. SomeoneElse life started to return to usual speed. Ms. SomeoneElsesGirlfriend was on the scene for a bit before she left for 4 months in Europe. But she was here for long enough to tell me I had turned into a “zombie” which I later found out means “You treat me like everyone else now.” So I thought things would be normal for me. WRONG. I’m sitting in my living room right now, evaluating the last three weeks and just wondering what I’m doing. I may hate two of my roommates for being disgustingly and destructively selfless. I just feel like they’re idiots and they happily put a village of African children before any of the needs, wants, or cares of any of their friends. It sickens me to watch, and I am glad that other people are waking up to the way they really are. I am still a dump for people’s emotions. I am tired of being this receptacle for other people’s toxic hormonal emotions. But, I do it. I literally watched someone seduce a particular girl in a matter of two hours, after I had spent at least six hours in the previous week helping her sort through her emotions in an attempt to get her life in order. And I know the way I wrote that, it could be inferred that I just didn’t try hard enough. That’s bullshit. Every time one of these girls is done with my services as a psychoanalyst, I’m pretty much wallpaper.
And that was just a few of the steps on the door mat that that has become my life lately. I really don’t know how to do it, but my goal over the next few weeks it to become emotionally unavailable. At whatever expense. I know that seems like running away, but I think I can more than justify just running away at this point. Alright, that was relatively cathartic; I need to start using this thing again.
The school year ended with me in an unbelievable mood. My grades were top notch, I was in good spirits and I was leaving for my great journey to Russia. I never felt so free. Russia made go a little bit crazier to tell the truth, and probably pushed me a bit closer to definable alcoholism. But I found myself in Siberia. Watching the sun rise on the cliffs of Olkhon with nothing to think about except wondering where the waters of Lake Baikal started and the foggy sky ended, I was at peace there, in a way I never had been before.
I thought I was ready to come back. WRONG. After moving in with Mr. SomeoneElse life started to return to usual speed. Ms. SomeoneElsesGirlfriend was on the scene for a bit before she left for 4 months in Europe. But she was here for long enough to tell me I had turned into a “zombie” which I later found out means “You treat me like everyone else now.” So I thought things would be normal for me. WRONG. I’m sitting in my living room right now, evaluating the last three weeks and just wondering what I’m doing. I may hate two of my roommates for being disgustingly and destructively selfless. I just feel like they’re idiots and they happily put a village of African children before any of the needs, wants, or cares of any of their friends. It sickens me to watch, and I am glad that other people are waking up to the way they really are. I am still a dump for people’s emotions. I am tired of being this receptacle for other people’s toxic hormonal emotions. But, I do it. I literally watched someone seduce a particular girl in a matter of two hours, after I had spent at least six hours in the previous week helping her sort through her emotions in an attempt to get her life in order. And I know the way I wrote that, it could be inferred that I just didn’t try hard enough. That’s bullshit. Every time one of these girls is done with my services as a psychoanalyst, I’m pretty much wallpaper.
And that was just a few of the steps on the door mat that that has become my life lately. I really don’t know how to do it, but my goal over the next few weeks it to become emotionally unavailable. At whatever expense. I know that seems like running away, but I think I can more than justify just running away at this point. Alright, that was relatively cathartic; I need to start using this thing again.