Reflection is the worst. Sure it’s nice to reminisce about the “good ol days”, only sometimes you remember the “bad ol days” as well. You get to see how much you’ve grown, yet the bad shit you did, you did that shit. So you may have come far in life, but you can never get away from your beginnings.
I say all this because someone recently told me that I’ve grown a bit. And that they were proud of me. For what? For doing what I’m supposed to? For being a little less of an asshole than usual on that particular day? Because that’s all it is. I was caught on a good day, at a good moment in time.
What cracks me up is the people who actually like me. And I use the term like because I don’t think anyone loves me. And that’s on me. I make it hard as fuck sometimes. But I have friends who truly like me, and that’s more than I can ask for in this life, considering the destruction I left in my wake. So I’ll take a “like” day of the week.
I heard a song this week that hit hard. It was about one not loving one’s self. And I don’t. But I just wanna be in the majority, and not the minority. And that majority is not a fan. But the minority is the group that always shows their support and I am eternally grateful for them.
But I digress. I just wanna love me. And I want someone to love me. But that’s not in the cards for me. I chase everyone away. And I get brave and say “I love you” to someone, and the response given is *crickets*. Again, I get it. But people will never hate me as much I do.
I have this image of myself as likable. But it’s just a new car smell. It’s funny and a breath of fresh air at first. Operative words in that sentence being “at first”. But just like a new car smell, it wears off. And when you have clinical depression, it’s hard to “keep your head up”. Or to “think positive”. I wish it were that easy.
And that shit is hard for people to wanna be around. And I can’t get mad at anyone for that. Hell, I’d be out if I could. Sadly, not an option for me. But the best part is when someone tells me to just “stop being sad”. LOF’NL Why didn’t I think of that?
And it hurts when family thinks I am doing this to be noticed. Nobody notices me anymore, and hasn’t for a while now. So why do I want those people to notice me? Hell, most days I just want left alone. Left alone, and wanted to be noticed and loved at the same time. Figure that one out and get back to me. Lol But the ones who are supposed to forever have your back, your family, always seem too busy, or just over my shit in general. Me too, peeps. Me too.
So do I wanna look back fondly and reflect? Of course I do. The question becomes is there anything to look back fondly on? And that people, is the Million dollar question.
So before anyone starts with the “Why the depressing blog post?” questions, it’s something I do as a release. Because if I don’t get this shot out when I’m feeling this way, then the only thing I wanna release is the blood from my veins via a razor. So that’s why.
If you’re still ready after all this incessant babbling, then I thank you. For caring enough to not tune out. I love you all, and I’ll leave you with this:
Death by 1000 cuts refers to an ancient method of torture in which numerous small cuts were made on a victim’s body. None of the cuts were deadly by themselves, but the combination of them would cause them to die a slow, painful death. In psychology, it refers to small issues that are overlooked until they add up to something too big to ignore. Sometimes I question which version of the phrase is worse.