27 June 2011

Boundaries? I don't respect boundaries?

So I finally see Frank today, bright and early after a shit night of sleep because I had 2 dogs hogging the bed during the hellatious storm and having forgotten to take my meds this morning. He returned some books and told me that all contact had to be cut off because I don't respect boundaries. What fucking boundary did I cross this time? Was it blogging about him? Was it still trying to be friends with the knowledge that he has a girlfriend? I was behaving myself. OK I got a little obsessive with the calling once or twice a week, but I was getting over that since he was ducking my calls. I think I have a right to be pissed and hurt.

I feel lied to. This person said he would always be my friend. Lies. All fucking lies. I feel disrespected and that credit has not been given to me for a) not going insane enough to cut or try to commit suicide (an improvement). b) actually backing off. c) being loyal enough that I'd have done anything for him. d) wasting my time in a 1 year friendship that was supposed to last "forever" and ending up hurt in the end. Unlike somebody I know I would have communicated that there was a problem instead of being a pussy and spontaneously cutting off all contact.

The counselor I talked to today said I can't look at or think about things in the extremes. That's hard to do when someone who was your friend kicks you in the fucking teeth. I still don't know what boundary I crossed this time. It helps when the boundaries don't move all over the fucking place. I won't respect boundaries... I bet someone's ex wife helped him come up with that.

So Frank, thanks for the lies and heartache. Much appreciated. It's just too bad you aren't strong enough to handle intense friendships. Don't fuckin sit there and tell me it's because I read everything as a mixed signal either. I've been back with Dave for a while, happily at that, therefore the option of romance with anyone was off of the table. Besides I haven't had a romantic feeling for you since Feb. when I got smacked down. Yeah I was out of control then, but guess what?

I have 2 counselors and enough medication to tranq out a horse on my side. You were too blind to see that I was calming down, too busy to see that I was pulling out of my legitimate depression and you hit me with I don't respect boundaries, out of the blue, without seeing or caring that I was sick in the mind as recent as a month and a half ago and therefore not making great decisions. I was (am) an emotional train wreck, but you couldn't see that I am/was getting better.

Now I have to deal with having anxiety attacks every time I'm on campus because I might see you, worse if I actually do see you. I also want to thank you for building my confidence only to destroy it. I have no clue why the fuck I'm even in college. I'm too fucked up in the skull to make anything of myself, so why did you bother ever telling me I could do anything I set my mind to? Building me up just to tear me down, or did you actually mean some of the shit at some point in time only to take it away. You better believe every day I wish I never let you close. I also wish that I'd died instead of Mom. If your life is better without me in it, then so should the world.

16 June 2011

So, I was feeling good...

Then I got triggered. As you know I'm having difficulties dealing with the bullshit loss of a friend. I walk into the living room and low and behold, guess who's on TV... the friend. I was going to call and tell him it was a good interview but I think he blocked my number since I get "The AT&T customer you're trying to reach is not available" instead of 2 rings and voicemail.

Of course just hearing his voice and seeing him made me start thinking of our last words to each other, how there's not been any closure, though I'd like to pick up the friendship where we left off, and now I'm crying like a little bitch because of it all.

It hurts to think that I'm no longer good enough to be his friend, that I'm just trash that he set on the curb, that he could hurt me by saying the shit he said and not expecting me to react adversely.

Then again the final argument was all my fault and I probably shouldn't have said that I only started counseling because I couldn't handle being rejected by him, which he responded ever so wonderfully "you say that like you had a chance in the first place." If he could only understand it's easier to blame him (someone who's not supposed to walk away) than admit I'm junk and fucked up in the head, maybe he'd understand some of the shit I said and not take it the wrong way or be scared he's giving out mixed signals when he's not and hasn't since February. He would know that if he read anything I've written to him, or even in this blog.

I fucked up when I wrote Isolated Once Again. That was in fucking May though. I was writhing in pain from being emotionally lashed for 2 hours. But when I said goodbye, I didn't mean forever, which is how he seems to have taken it. He shouldn't still be pissed after all this time. Then again I shouldn't give a rats ass what he thinks about me. I shouldn't give a rats ass about what anyone thinks of me. It just seems like I've lost so much time to being friends with him that I'll never get back, but I don't regret either. I'm just upset he's decided to end it instead of dealing with the problem. I guess he was ill prepared to be friends with a bipolar. I just wish he'd talk to me again.

07 June 2011

It's been awhile.

It's hot and I'm cranky. I want to sleep but can't fall asleep because my mind keeps racing. I took my meds like I was supposed to so I'm a bit dizzy too. I've tried for weeks to get Frank to talk to me but he keeps dodging my calls. I guess that means he hates me now. It eats me up inside that someone I thought was a solid friend walked away knowing I was just lashing out in pain. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe he should know that our last conversation left me devastated and tear filled with snot running from my nose. I even puked a couple of times, I was that upset. I should say it doesn't matter, that it doesn't hurt, that I'm not bothered in the least by Frank's abandoning me, but that would be a lie. I should be OK with having no friends at my immediate call should I need one, I've lived my life alone - I should be used to it.

Interpersonal relationships have never been my strong suit. All of my friends go as quick as they come. I'm surprised Dave's still around. That's probably because he doesn't have to deal with me 24-7 or when shit's really piled up on me. Dave has the liberty and leisure of only having to be there when it's convenient for him. Even then it's hell spending time with him when I'm depressed. I think that's because he doesn't understand what it's like to be in my shoes, and he never will understand. Maybe he wants to fix it. He can't. Nobody can. I can't just snap out of it either. If I could snap out of it, don't you think I would have by now? The medicine is helping a little bit, but I'm still depressed, especially when I think of how few people I have in my life... and how much I want Frank back in it. I guess he doesn't have the time or patience for me anymore, which is a shame and makes me feel stupid for allowing him to get close enough for me to open up to him. Stupid enough to open up to anybody. All it ever leads to is pain and disappointment.

You'd think the two counselors and medicine would be working by now and I'd be over Frank abandoning me. Guess not. I guess he's never going to speak to me again... which sucks. Maybe him telling me he liked conversing with me was a lie. I never can tell when someone's just trying to be nice to me, and when they actually mean it. I've been burned that many times.