Worst Person Ever 

            So yesterday I was supposed to go to my best friends graduation party. He’s my best friend (only friend I guess) but I’m not sure if I’m his best friend. He’s very popular and very well known. Very sociable. 

            I can’t help but think I’m the worst person ever. All day yesterday I looked for what I could give him as a gift. I got him an emoji pillow and a notebook that has line, graph, and blank paper. Along with pencils and erasers. 

            I put them in the gift bag and I was ready to go. But I actually never even went. I didn’t go. My anxiety got the best of me. It took over. How cruel is that? I didn’t go to my own best friends grad party? Do I even have a heart? 

            First, I started thinking about all the people that would be there. I had asked him before and he said he didn’t know. His parents did the invites. They even did the party at one of his other friends house because there was more space, even though his house is pretty big. Yes, I was anxious. 

            Second, I wasn’t going to talk to anyone there. Yes, I would have probably known some of them, but I’d doubt they would have come up to talk to me. They don’t at church, why at a party? Gabriel had already apologized before hand saying he was sorry if he didn’t even get a chance to talk to me because he would be so busy. I understand that. He has to greet and conversate with all his guests. Thank them for coming and the gifts and what not. 

            Third, with all that’s going on I didn’t even feel like partying. Or being social. I could barley talk to a wall. I felt like running. I wanted to run as fast as I could until not being able to feel my legs. So that’s what I did. I went outside and walked for maybe two hours. It felt good. 

            Forth, well, I am kind of jealous. Don’t get me wrong. I am happy for him. He’s graduated, has his college paid for, got a car from his parents, has a house to live in, got a grad party, he has it all. Does he deserve it all? I would say yes every time. He’s a cool guy. I mean, I haven’t scared him away like Eli and Jenny, yet

            I just look at my life and ask why? I have done so much and yet my life sucks. There is so much struggle. When I told Eli that my mom has breast cancer she started crying, asked the same thing. “Why are you always going through all these bad things?” she had asked. It’s like I’m plagued with some curse that won’t let me live in peace. 

            Maybe you need to try harder? Trust me, I have tried. I have given this life all I have. I have worked for everything I have. I have been the father figure for my brother. I was the strength for my mother when our father left us even when I myself couldn’t bare. In the bad times I have always worn the face of courage. I have been the strength for my family that has kept us moving forward. But I feel that inside it has all eaten me away. 

            I have been the nicest person to the meanest of people. I have helped those who wouldn’t even lend me a hand. But where is karma? Has she mistaken me for some one else?  Has she forgotten the rules to her own game? Has she taken a break? A short little vacation? Or has she simply retired letting life rule over us all? 
            Now I have to find a way to apologize to Gabriel. I don’t know how to explain to him what I feel. Maybe how I wrote it on here but it just wouldn’t be the same. 

It Would Be Nice Of You To Just, LISTEN 

            One of my friends had the audacity to call me out on social media. Snapchat, to be more specific. She captioned a picture of her face saying how her (Jen) and my other friend (Eli) still loved me and even though I “didn’t want to talk to them” they still missed me.

            FIRST OF ALL, I am not ignoring them, or not wanting to talk to them. They have not tried their best to communicate with me. I wish they would because I want to tell them everything. But if I’m not asked how will I?

             But that’s not even the main reason why I am upset. The fact that she called me out on social media was fucked up. You think, well, I think that if she really cared she would have called me or texted me. That was not the way to get my attention.

             So, I told her. I did want to talk to them I just didn’t know how. I thought that this would steer the conversation somewhere where she could reassure me that she was there for me. Instead she just said, “nigga just talk to us how you used to.”

            This, bothered me because I was trying to be real and open up to her but she just waved it off as if it wasn’t a big deal. So I told her that I did them a favor because they wouldn’t want to be hanging out with someone who was broke, and sulking every second of the day.

             To that she played the victim asking if I actually thought they were that superficial. Of course not, she just didn’t understand what I was trying to say! That they go out a lot and me saying I don’t ever have money was going to get old. But I didn’t even try to explain that, I just told her that I didn’t know how to express myself.

              She told me I didn’t need to. That I didn’t have to tell them my problems they just wanted to hang out with me and have fun and laugh and shoot rainbows out of our ass, the fuck? My mom has fucking cancer you bitch, I’m not going to go out and have fun and forget that.

              Every single time I get the feeling of being happy, there is a little voice in my head that pops up and asks me, why are you having fun? As I try to answer this question the voice speaks for me and gives me a list of all the things that bring me down and cloud my memory. There is no way I can get that voice out, it’s always there. And it wont leave until my problems do, so never.

                 Jenny, I love you but you not wanting to listen to my problems really hurts me. It makes me feel like you don’t really care about my life. Because as sad as it sounds my problems are my life and they are part of me. I just can’t put them in the closet and take them out when ever I am ready to face them. They follow me around where ever I go. I can’t just put them in a box and push it to the side while I go out for the night and have fun, they will still be there when I come back. I wish you would do the opposite and ask me whats the matter. I know you can’t fix it, I know they aren’t your problems, but it would be nice of you to just, listen.

Some Of Us Have To Suffer So Others Don’t 

So Journal, 

          You could say that I am furious at my friends. I feel like they don’t understand what I’m going through. They don’t realize the struggle that is my life right now. Yes, I know I don’t roam around spilling my guts out for the world to see but they should notice if they are my friends correct? Correct

          One of my estranged friends keeps sending me funny memes from Buzzfeed and People, yet she hasn’t spoken or texted me in over two months. Is this her way of saying hi? Of trying to find out how I’m doing? By sending me memes about how girls feel better and more powerful when they don’t shave their legs? I want to scream through the phone CALL ME! I NEED HELP!  Seriously, I really do want to hear her voice. I want her to tell me that everything will get better, even though it won’t. I want her to make me laugh the only way she knows how. I want to see her face to face. See her smile. Hear her laugh. But how can we do that if the only way she is trying to comunicate is through memes? Then in the other hand she might not know any other way to break the ice. I have no clue. And I don’t know what to do. 

          I was also talking to another friend, his name is Gabriel. (I talk about him enough, I feel like his name should be mentioned by now.). He went to a funeral today and he said he found emotions that he didn’t have before. I was very curious to see what he meant. He explained that his dad is a drunk (this I knew) and that he didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t know what will happen if it gets worse and he’s very deeply sad. 

          Ok, let’s back the train the fuck up. First of all. Yes your dad drinks. But he has two homes. One that you live in, have your own room, and have more than enough food in. The second one he rents to people  which provides even more money to the home that you’re currently living in. Third, he works a full time job. Sure every weekend he likes to get a little tipsy and have fun, the man does so much! He’s not your typical drunk. The ones you see on TV that don’t have any money and have long hair and a beer belly. He just looks like another dad. 

          I understand what he’s going through. My dad was a drunk. But my dad was a real drunk. He didn’t give a shit. He wouldn’t come home for days. He would work when he wanted. And sometimes we would have to eat bread and milk for a couple of days until my mom found some way to bring home food. Thank god my dad isn’t around anymore. He was a piece of shit. But him complain about his dad? You little fucker! Let him get drunk that’s his way of unstressing. As long as he provides you a roof and food what esle do you want? 

          What gets me mad is that he sounds like he is in deep pain. Like he’s morning the loss of something. He’s like in the brink of depressing and I’m just like dude really? I know I should be more understanding, but come on! My mom has cancer, we’re on food stamps, and I can barley keep up with the  bills. And your going to tell me that you’re sad?

          Update: he just messaged me that he’s planning his graduation party. I’m done. He doesn’t know how fucking privaliged he is. I never had a graduation party. So while I’m over here struggling to provide for my family in my early twenties he’s going to be having the time of his life being showered with gifts.

           I know I sound like an asshole, but life is so unfair. I look back at my life and try to see what I did wrong to deserve all this bad karma. But I can’t. All I see is a great little kid with a big heart who never got in trouble and always got straight A’s. But I guess in this life some of us have to suffer so others don’t. 

5/1/2017

Why?

Dear Journal, 

          I am, in yet, another conundrum. But as I lay here in bed writing this, I wonder, is it of my own doing? Or am I one of those people that has such a big heart that can only find blame in ones self and not others? Would a person with a big heart say that? 

          Why do I say this? Well, one of my friends sent me a Snapchat the other day. I ignored it because I just couldn’t face to open up a conversation after we hadn’t spoken in months. And also, or should I say mainly? I was some what mad. Maybe a little irritated that this person would try to start a conversation after this long, by means of a social media. Why not text and say hey, I miss you how you been? Or possibly I was wondering how your doing. A freaking call would have been nice! But no, there was no call, no text, just a simple picture that erased after four seconds never to see the light of day again. So, of course, I did not respond. 

           Today she sent a video. You you think it was heart warming? Maybe some words of motivation? No. I noticed that at the same time I got the snap she and her husband were out and about with they’re dog and she put it on her “story”. Must have been a video about that. I did not open it and I have yet to. I don’t want to. Right now I’m in a shitty place in my life that I can barley bare day by day. And you have the audacity to send me cute snaps and videos of you having the time of your life? Excuse me but, what the fuck? That’s not what you do to a friend. Oh your sad? Oh, life isn’t treating you well? That’s to bad, but look at my cute dog playing in the sand on the beach by the hotel we booked for the weekend because we just had extra money around and we didn’t know what else to do with it. Ok maybe that’s an extreme exaggeration, but that’s what I feel. Unfortunately that’s how my brain is wired to think. 

          Then on the whole other side of the coin I blame myself fully. I don’t diserve friends like that. I know that they care. They are the best, they are good.  I stood them up because I didn’t have enough money to buy chips and didn’t have the balls to tell them. (Then again, anxiety). Every time they reached out I pushed hem away. (Then again, they didn’t actually try). 

          We all may have a little to do in all this but deep down I just have so many things to yell at them. I just need to get it all out of my system. To ask them questions. Beg them for explanations. 

          Why didn’t you notice I was falling apart? Why didn’t you see how much I was struggling? Didn’t you see how my smiles turned into frowns? Why didn’t you notice how unhappy I was feeling? Why didn’t you sympathize when I said things weren’t going so good? Why didn’t you ask if everything was actually ok when I said it was? Why did you wave evey forced smile when you knew there was more behind it? Why didn’t you care? Why didn’t you try harder? Why did you stop trying? 

Why?


4/25/2017

A Real Friend 

I’m so done Journal,

      Ok, so as you know Journal, I’ve been going through some rough times lately. And because of such circumstances my anxiety and behavior haven’t really been in control (to say the least) . I’ve been blocking out some people out of my life because, well shit has hit the fan, and I don’t want them to be all covered in my shit. (I’m basically protecting them). You can call it depression, stress, anxiety, or just a series of bad days, but the point is I  haven’t been my happy-cheerful self in a long time (since I was like three BTW). 

      I need help. I need company and support. I need encouragement. I want someone to tell me it’s going to be ok even if it’s not. That fact that you are trying to make me feel better, actually makes me feel better (if that makes any sense). If I push you away, don’t let go. If I say I’m fine, I’m actually saying, please help me, I’m not ok (it’s code). If I act distant, come closer. If I act cold, remind me how warm our friendship can be. If I forget life’s worth, show me what to live for. If I’m unstable, hold me. If I can’t go on any longer, grab my hand and walk with me. 

      These are only a few of the things I was waiting for from my friends. I swore they were the best thing that ever happened to me and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Now, as times have come to show I see who they really are (or more, who they can really be). Sure they probably do worry about me and wonder if I’m ok, but take in mind that, that is not the same thing as actuallly checking up on me and seeing to it that I’m doing well. I don’t want their pity I don’t want their money. All I ask for is support. I wish I could share my lows just as well as we share our highs. 

      Today I was talking to one of my friends (Eli) and she was so motivating. She said how she and her husband are here for me and all that good stuff. But then she said that I had to see that her job is really demanding since she doesn’t have a set schedule (fast food). She said that I should understand since I worked there myself. Which I do, partially. But if I had a friend who was one the verge of doing something that was anything but safe I would no doubt call off and be there for them. That’s what friends are for right? They put anything on the line for you so you don’t cross yours (💀). 

      That’s what I thought my friends and I had. A solid bond that could never be broken. Well, that “unbreakable bond” has just been shattered to a hundred million tiny pieces. Both of my “best” friends have said to take my time with what ever is going on with me. Like if saying just get through it and when your done hit us up so we can be friends again. Ok, I know no one wants to be friends with someone who is always down and sad, but hey, that’s why you cheer them up. You don’t tell them to take their time and that you’ll be there afterwards when they resolve their problems. No dude, you gotta be there for moral support. Yes you will be there after, but what if that person won’t? What person can’t handle the situation that they are in and all they needed was a friend to listen but all you are waiting for is for them to stop and get better on their own so y’all can “go to Disneyland again” (oh MY Gawd). 

      I’m done with them. They are not friends to me. They say that they will be there for me but they are not. A real friend would try to find out what’s going on. A real friend would ask until they new what the problem was. A real friend would stay by your side even in the hardest times. A real friend would help you out even when you didn’t want it but needed it. But I guess there are no more real friends for me. 

3/1/2017