you pointed out the fact that i often don’t say anything to people about various situations, and instead i get upset about them and have a lot of energy around the situation. perfectly true and a long-standing pattern of mine.
however, i have learned over a long period of time of experiences — both real and anticipated — that i would rather not say anything, that to say something and have someone ignore me or blatantly disregard what i have to say or just not give a fuck about me. that is so, so painful. and it leaves me with a host of other problems.
i’ve just gone into the kitchen and looked at ANOTHER set of changes …. sigh. and the fact of the matter is … i already asked ONCE that my shit be left alone. so, already my direct request has been ignored. what makes me think that asking again is going to be honored when i’m dealing with someone who clearly cannot stop re-arranging things and definitely wants to have things exactly the way he wants them to the exclusion of others?
i came home after that month to find that the ORDER OF THE SPOONS, KNIVES and FORKS have been rearranged in the fucking silverware drawer. i’m going in there and grabbing for shit and pulling out the wrong utensil. it had been like that FOR MONTHS and i go away and he fucking changes it!?? are you SERIOUS?
YES!! I’m FUCKING CHARGED. that sounds god damn insane to me. again, i feel fucking gaslighted. like WHAT? my reality is being fucked with.
1. why wouldn’t you just change it when i first moved in?
2. you wait until i leave for a month …….. BECAUSE I AM DEALING WITH MY DAD’S DEATH? WHAT?
3. GOD. and this is the kind of stuff where either no one else acts like it’s a big deal or then i’m the fucking crazy one because I AM the one who is so whipped up. and it’s like … fuck that. i guarantee if you lived somewhere and came back from vacation (MUCH LESS your dad dying and the funeral and all your fucked up family stuff) and every time you went to the kitchen to get something … it wasn’t there or it wasn’t where you put it or you couldn’t even get a fucking spoon the first time when you reached into the drawer, you’d get a little batshit.
SO … it’s like … why don’t i want to say something? why should i assume i’m dealing with reasonable people here? (a reasonable person) he’s nice and kind and does a lot of things that are fine … but again, that’s the part that makes me feel crazy, cause when it comes right down to it, it’s going to be the way he wants it around here, period.
and it’s like that with a bunch of different scenarios … asking people to do certain things or show up certain ways or whatever and just not having people be there. i can’t do that. i can’t handle that.
i had a friend tell me that when i came back to chicago, i could come over and she’d let me cry it out or whatever. that she’d be there for me. okay. that was HER offering that to me. then she texts ME out of the blue the other day and asks me how i am. i tell her that it’s been hard as of late and that it’s (grief?) probably going to be slow going.
there was no response. literally not another text after that. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?
like i don’t even know what to do with that. i want to call her out, but what? seriously? i’m going to what? beg someone to be my friend? get mad because they won’t?
i don’t know. i realize how i don’t really have any friends anymore. i don’t know if i reached out again if any of that would change, but something like that really shows me that i don’t even want to risk it anymore. it makes me wonder what my life is really going to look like, to be honest.
i don’t know. i am sad. and i am lonely. no doubt about it. i wish drinking and drugs could work for me. it would be so nice to have something to dull the pain.