I think I've sunk past the anger and settled into grieving the loss of a weekly ritual for like, two, almost three years. I know I need to replace it with something else that I can look forward to and have fun with- but it's so cruel that it feels as if I'm the only one being punished and outcast while everyone else has fun without me, when if it weren't for me in the first place, it would have never coalesced to begin with...
I'm grateful for the loved ones I do have in my life, but they're all really busy, and to some varying degree, a bit flaky sometimes- inconsistent, largely due to life circumstances, but also being reclusive by nature. It's kind of upsetting to realize that the people I'm closest to are all some degree of avoidant by nature and how weirdly it parallels my childhood issues. It's also the holidays, so I need to keep that framing in mind too, of course. But it's hard.
I'm just sad. It doesn't feel fair.
It just feels so pathetic. Listening to Glass Animals and tearing up because I'm laying down in bed, emotionally fraught like a live wire, chronic pain flaring up: missing people who hurt me terribly, who are blithely living their lives and laughing all carefree, enjoying themselves even more so with my absence, because as much as I make magic, sparkly things happen- coalescing friendships, group activities and hobbies they'd never have dived into otherwise, long hours spent together when we should have been asleep: I'm more like a firework than not: searingly brilliant and colourful and bright, but for a moment- all burnt out, smoke smouldering in the back of your throat and stinging your eyes- an irritant, an annoyance, to be discarded and disposed of without a second thought.
They'll take what they like and walk away without flinching from the wreck. Why do I keep pouring myself into friendships with people who hurt me so badly and don't even give a fuck? When will I finally learn to not fall into the trap of trusting other people to treat me with even an ounce of the same compassion or consideration I would handle a stranger? Someone who likely knew my abusive ex boyfriend (who had a tendency to use other people to try to worm back into establishing contact with me, who painted me as an insane mentally ill freak who was a danger to myself and he was just a loving, kind, caring boyfriend who was trying to take care of me,) was searching feverishly for me and not a single one of them reached out to warn me or someone close to me to pass on the message, if they truly felt it wasn't their place to talk to me- once more, my safety wasn't even a thought on the table.
I think I need to ask my loved ones to sit down and seriously write a letter about what they actually think of me to hold onto as a token because I think I am going a little fucking crazy. My ex boyfriend described me in a few words on a whim, and it just keeps looping in my head. How is the way I am perceived so disparate from how I consider myself? What's so wrong with me? How have I convinced other people in my life- both those who are closest to me, and those who are friendly acquaintances at best, of all of- the way that they see me doesn't ring true. It makes me feel like a fraud who's going to caught out at any moment. Like I'm some kind of freak, some kind of monstrous manipulator pulling the wool over their eyes- like one day they're going to wake up and realize yeah, what the hell was I thinking, they aren't worthy or good or a person at all really, so its fine to just toss them by the wayside and walk away- because why did I ever think that they were worth my time or space or energy or even a crumb of regard.
I don't get it. We broke up. Why does he still think such nice things about me? It makes me sad that three out of the five were related to how I interact with others, of use to them. Ugh. I'm just going to drive myself off the deep end ruminating about this kind of thing.