Say It Like You Mean It

What do you do when your best friend turns out to be a complete fraud? When you find out that pretty much every word they ever said to you was a lie? I feel as if someone has ripped my heart out, doused it with rubbing alcohol, and handed it back. Is it wrong to feel like another girl has broken your heart? I thought she was my best friend. I thought she was too good to be true. Well, as it turns out, she was. I feel so incredibly alone.

She hates my son and thinks he is a complete mistake. She thinks I shouldn't go to school so I can work more hours to pay for the car. She hates me. How can you tell someone that you are their best friend and favorite person in the world and then turn around and tell someone else that you pretty much hate that person completely?

I'm never good enough for anyone. Am I really that terrible? I must be, because this always happens. This is why I don't make friends easily. This is why I don't trust people. Apparently, I'm not good enough for them.

Why do you say you want to help me when in reality you think I'm a fucking mooch, a user? I'm not. I hate accepting help. Every time you offer to help me, I refuse. Every time. And then you offer again and again, and I finally give in, because in reality, I really do need the help. And so I have no choice but to accept.

I'm sorry that I'm broke and that I can't afford the car. You knew that when we agreed that I would take it. Then we worked out a deal where I would clean your house in exchange. Do you know that for the work I do, it's worth about $150 every single time I clean your house? Do you know that since I do it every 2 weeks, I'm essentially paying two payments every month. That I would technically have it payed off in about 5 months as opposed to the year that I promised? Do you know that I don't even care, and I'm happy to do it. You have helped me out several times, and for that I'm forever grateful. And I will repay you as best as I can. Did you know that when I get my financial aid in a month I was going to give you about $500 towards the car, and still do the housecleaning, because I'm so grateful for the help?

I trusted you. I've never said anything bad about you to anyone, even when people have told me things about you. I never believed them. I always stood up for you and defended you. You know how many people dislike you. I always tell them that they are mistaken, or they don't know you very well, or that they are just jealous because you are smart and beautiful. And yet, you tell people all kinds of terrible things about me that aren't even true. How could you? I feel so incredibly betrayed.

If you hate me so much, take back the car. Take back my mattress. I don't care if I do sleep on the floor. So what if I lose my job because I don't have a car, which is required for my job, as long as you're happy, right? Because it's not like I never do anything for you. It's not like I'm never there for you. It's not like I'm worth anything, anyway.

I've lost 2 best friends, people who I have been friends with for nearly 10 years each, within 6 months of each other. I'm so tired of people taking advantage of me. I'm so tired of people lying to me. I just want someone to be my friend with no other expectations. I feel so alone. Read more!

Setting The Standard

I am so tired.

I am smart. I am a very hard worker. I am a loyal and dedicated friend. I take pride in myself, my work, and my effect on others. I sometimes complain too much, but I try not to. All my life, people expect more from me than they do from others, because I am smart, I am a hard worker, I am a loyal and dedicated friend, and I have a sense of honor and pride.

In school, I was expected to deliver not just what was required to make the grade, but also to go above and beyond. At home, I am expected to be an example, to behave better, to know what is 'right' and what is 'wrong'. At work, I am expected to work hard every moment that I am there and do so with cheer and good humor. In my friendships, I am expected to forgive, to understand, to wait on the sidelines patiently until I am needed. All because this is what I have proven capable of.

All my life I have been held to a higher standard, and I am bloody sick of it. I fought so hard against it in high school that I nearly flunked out. At work, I am one of the hardest working employees but I get crap hours because I am not one of the 'kool kids' and rarely any recognition, because I always go above and beyond that I guess they no longer feel the need to reward me for doing what I am going to do anyway. I have set the bar so high for myself that I don't even know how to surpass it.

My idiot brother Sam gets molly-coddled and rarely held accountable for his actions because he has pretended to be an idiot for so long he has become one. He gets treated great any time he actually bothers to do remotely well, and I get nothing when I do because it is assumed that I will do it regardless. When I was 17 I was getting kicked out or grounded constantly for doing things far less serious than what he does. He is a liar, a cheat, a thief. He does the bare minimum for his schoolwork and my mom signs off on some assignments he doesn't even do just so she doesn't have to deal with the hassle of actually making him do them. He is scum in training. But that's ok. Be a complete waste of space, break things, steal things, lie like it's going out of style, treat everyone around you like shit, and when you actually do something even remotely worthwhile, you'll get treated like a prince.

I am so incredibly tired of being 'better', 'smarter', 'more capable'. I want someone to notice that I am a hard worker. I want someone to say, 'You know, you're doing a great job. I can always expect you to do what you're supposed to. Thanks.' How hard is that? I am so sick of it.

I don't believe that others are less capable than I am. I think they are simply less willing. Set the bar low, and everyone will be pleasantly surprised when you actually perform what you are really capable of. Set it high by always exceeding expectations, and that becomes the expectation. It's not fair. What am I supposed to do? I won't be a slacker like most others, I have too much pride. But why is it so much to ask for a little recognition. I thrive off of it. I work so hard to get it that I almost never get any. It's ironic, really. The harder I work, the more I try to do my best, the less likely I am to get any kind of reward or recognition. So incredibly asinine.

I am smart. I am a very hard worker. I am a loyal and dedicated friend. I take pride in myself, my work, and my effect on others. I have a strong sense of honor. And I hate it.

--Dragon Read more!

The Chemicals Between Us, Ma'Lalo

This is a subject that I have avoided. It is a long and complicated topic, and one that I don't feel as if I can adequately convey in any logical sense. I believe I touched on it once, but to really talk about it is like opening Pandora's box in my mind. I've waited a few days to think about it, to form some sort of cohesive train of thought. So here goes nothing--

Matt. He has been my best friend since I was 13 years old. (I'm now 21 in case you hadn't noticed) We met in 8th grade and instantly hated each other. Then for some crazy reason, one day we started talking to each other and were immediately inseparable. In a way, we have two relationships. We've always had this crazy sort of chemistry and can never stay away from each other for long. On the other hand, we also have this incredible friendship. Each part of our relationship plays into the other, while somehow remaining distinct. He is my first love. It's funny, but no matter who I am involved with, there is always a part of me reserved for him. I try to get past it, to avoid it, but it's always there. The same thing happens with him.

I've had a lot of problems in relationships because my boyfriends would become insanely jealous of our friendship. This is probably due mainly to two things: 1) I have terrible taste. 2) I always made it clear that my friends were more important than my boyfriend. Friends were there before the guy, and would probably be there after the guy. This is probably self defeating, because I have only ever had any reason to think two of the relationships I have been in to work out. I pretty much don't believe in 'happily ever after' or the idea that relationships can last a lifetime. Well, sort of.

Matt and I are both rather bullheaded individuals, and my belief in friends before lovers clashes directly with his habit of completely giving his entire being over to a girl he thinks he is in love with. Most of the time I let him know he is making a mistake and simply wait for the inevitable failure. This is because I am conceited and have very high standards. Funny how I never stick to them. Anyway, Matt, just like me, has terrible taste. He constantly picks girls that abuse him and walk all over him. So I generally know that in the end whichever girl he is with will break his heart and he will find out what a huge mistake he's made, and of course come running back to apologize to me for not listening (not that he ever listens the next time). Of course then I have to help him put himself back together and the cycle continues. Don't take that as a bitter statement. It doesn't bother me. It never has. I'd help him put his heart back together a thousand times if I had to. It just seems the timing is always wrong for us. I pick a loser, and then shortly thereafter Matt is single. Matt gets a girl, and then I dump the loser. We always just miss each other in passing, and are both too stupid to realize that we should just stop picking losers and go for who we really want: each other.

Of course, thanks to our common stupidity and overall bullheadedness, we have disagreements from time to time, and don't speak for a few months. Sometimes, due to circumstances, we aren't able to contact each other (Matt was in the Army and spent time in a group home when he was 16). However, we always end up making up and it's as if nothing ever happened. Perhaps sometime we just need space. Recently, we had what was probably the worst falling out (there's never a fight. Simply one of us declaring we don't want to speak to the other because of some idiotic mistake on their part) that we've ever had.

The last time I spoke to him was November 14th, the day after I got my license. I've emailed him every month since then, apologizing and letting him know how my life was. I had begun to give up on ever seeing him again, when the day after I asked Erik to leave (did I tell you about that? No? Well I guess I shall have to do that soon) I recieved an email again. Interestingly, I had spoken to his mom that morning when I called to check up on him, and found out that he had been kicked out of the military and was living in a motel with his girlfriend and her 3 kids. (Yikes!)

In his email, he told me he wasn't mad and that he still was my best friend. He also mentioned that his girlfriend was verbally abusive and would barricade him in a room saying she would call the cops if he dared even touch her (he wouldn't ever even push a woman) and it was clear that he was terribly depressed. I emailed him back trying to cheer him up and let him know he could call me, and the next day got a reply saying that his girlfriend had hit him the night before and barricaded him in a room, telling him what a worthless piece of shit he was and how he should go back to Naomi (a horrid exgirlfriend who treated him like utter trash. He only just recently started getting over her). That was the most heartless thing she could have possibly said. He said he was packing up his things and leaving, and that he didn't know when he would be able to talk to me again, but he would let me know as soon as possible that he was ok. That was about 4 days ago.

I have no idea whether or not he actually left, or if he is perhaps still there, or if he is sleeping on the street somewhere. For all I know, and this is actually rather likely, he's hitching rides on the highway trying to get back home to California. I'm worried about him. I miss him. I'm overjoyed that he doesn't hate me. Mostly though, I just want to know that he is alright. I told him to come home and if I had to, I would drive out to Colorado and get him. I hope he is safe.

--dragon Read more!

Hostage

This post was inspired by a recent post of Thordora's. (I just noticed it said "Thoradora" and not Thordora. Silly me.)

The black ball-- it's always there... maybe the size of a pebble sitting in the pit of my stomach, filled with all the hate and rage I've ever felt just begging for the right moment to be released. It's the evil little voice that makes me tear others apart, when I think of how disgusting morbidly obese people are, or how I hate those stupid skinny rich wenches that get everything handed to them and have never had to work or think for anything. It's the part of me that forms no attachments and knows that I could just walk out the door with whatever money I could get my hands on, a change of clothes and a stack of CDs, and just drive and never look back. The part that hates my little brothers for being weaker than me and succumbing to my dad's delusions in the midst of his illness, for giving him the ammo he needed to leave my mom and leave me feeling like I had to always be there for her and protect her from herself.

When I get angry it grows and grows from a leaden ball in the pit of my stomach to a black rage that envelops my entire body and holds sanity and reason hostage, that makes me scream and shove and punch and claw viciously at my own arms to avoid reaching out and tearing the skin off of the person that I am angry at. Anger is so completely insufficent to describe how I feel in those moments. It's an absolutely mindless rage. Murderous. I feel like a hostage when it takes over-- I am sitting inside myself watching and screaming myself raw trying to stop, to calm down and walk away. It takes every ounce of my strength to get it under control and I am exhausted once the ordeal has passed. Even when things are fine and I have no reason to be angry, I can feel it smoldering, waiting for the right time to escape.

Things have gotten better. I am taking medication and reason and sanity are much louder and firmer, holding the rage at bay. But still, I feel it sitting there, waiting. Waiting to drag me down again. Each time it gets worse-- blacker and stronger. I fear that one day, it will devour me, and I will be left as nothing more than a timebomb waiting to explode, a mindless hate that will destroy everything in its path.

--dragon Read more!