There is drama with me involved, and it’s messy. I usually try to stay away from anything that could turn into such, but apparently that doesn’t work, either. I’ve sent a sincere email that could count as an apology the day of the blog post, but I’ve not heard back.
The thing about drama is there’s always at least two sides to every story, one side including things another may not have thought to even bring up. And, since everyone perceives things so differently from each other, things are often not taken as the author would have expected — hence why we should be careful — which often leads to a bittersweet taste on the tongue. Oftentimes, people don’t even realize what they say could be hurtful. Yeah, it’s okay if I call myself a certain word during certain situations, and it’s okay for some friends to as well1, but if you don’t know someone, you shouldn’t call them lazy, or anything related, for that matter. You don’t know how a person will react or feel afterward.
People love a bloodbath, so they often feed off drama instead of going to the direct source. Everything has to be public. It’s like high school never ended.
I dislike people for that matter.
It probably takes at least four years to be able to earn my trust fully. Or maybe it’s been three and a half.
Anyway, I’m indifferent.
I just am.
I have kept Twitter and Facebook and Thunderbird closed more often lately, and I don’t even check 6birds as much anymore. I can’t handle drama. I’ve been really great wit not cutting lately, and I really don’t want to spiral down into that sphere of sadness I was in. No, I’m not ‘happy’, but at least I’m no longer hurting myself. I hate that side of me.
Yet, I kind of really want to just cry. Stop blogging. Delete my Twitter account. Disappear. Be done.
A reply to the email would have been nice. I’m not even technically involved. I’m like a third-party company — I’m in the middle.
I’m not a bad person. I’m good. I can be good. I want to be good. I am good.
I’m back to sleeping all day and being up all night.
I may unjoin a lot of things I’m apart of (e.g. forums, communities, etc.) just because I don’t want to do this. I get happyish, and okay with myself, and then I fall down the entire flight of stairs, or however many steps I just climbed.
I haven’t even been in a great enough mood to eat regularly or decorate my gingerbread house.
Maybe this is what relapsing feels like without the cutting.
It feels better to appear offline than to be seen as available.
- Because they’re close enough. ↩