kelland

You know, I'm really FUCKING angry right now, so I'm going to go off here, because I'm listening to Nine Inch Nails at a ridiculously loud volume and my animosity is seeping out like crazy. I'm sorry. I no longer am going to spare the so-called innocent. I've been far too fucking nice for far too fucking long. And it's time to unleash all that's been inside me.

I consider myself a pretty damn good friend to a certain someone that has most recently removed themself from my life. This person called me a few weeks ago out of the blue, obviously very distraught. I could tell in his voice. He sounded like he had been drinking or maybe just crying a lot. He proceeded to relay the details of his weekend to me. It sounded as though everything was OK, but I could tell by his tone that everything was indeed not. And so I asked why he sounded so sad. And he didn't want to say. And I was thinking, "Come on, I know that you really want to tell me. You wouldn't have called otherwise." So then he gives in and tells me about the problems he's been having with his best friend who was in college at the time. I basically knew that was coming. He was distanced from a person that meant a lot to him and huh, what the fuck, I know EXACTLY how that feels since he cut me out of his life only a few months ago in the exact same way. But anyway. I held my tongue because I was worried about him and he sounded like complete shit. So I invested some time into thinking about his situation and worrying about his state of well-being, and I decided to sit down and write him a letter. I am known to be a pretty vocal person when I'm worried about someone. I told him I was concerned about him for several reasons, and I did something I never have done for anyone. I told him I would be there for him anytime he needed me, regardless of circumstance. I basically offered him my whole self to use at his discretion, and I NEVER do that for anyone. That is how fucking worried I was. So then I sent the letter. And I didn't hear from him in awhile. Then he called me one night as I was writing a speech and doing my Algebra 2 homework, and proceeded to thank me for my letter. But he didn't discuss any of the serious topics I addressed in the letter, of course. Instead he talked about how HAPPY he'd been lately, since the friend he was going to cut ties with moved BACK to town. He talked about how he was going to buy a new cell phone. How he was going to this show and doing this and that, and oh yeah, things are just splendid. It's not as though I was mad because he was happy, but how does someone have the nerve to come to me in near suicidal condition, only to wait a week and not speak to me ALL? Then this same person decides to give me a call and tell me about how fucking great life is. It really, really angered me at the time. But then I thought, "Now now, don't be mad. You should be happy for him. And you shouldn't let it get to you." So I tried. I tried hard. And guess what? That was the last time I talked to him.

So the moral of the story is that my friend only called me when he was depressed because he knows I'm a sensitive sap and I care about my friends and I listen. Now that he's happy and fine, I probably won't ever hear from him again. And he probably hasn't thought about me one bit.

Oh, but this is not at all the first time this exact same thing has happened to me. That is why I exercise that Morrissey line, "You only call me when you're feeling depressed... when you feel happy, I'm so far from your mind," so often. Because that is my fucking life. Call me to ask favors. Call me to tell me how someone broke your heart. Call me to borrow my stuff. But don't ever call me out of genuine concern for ME, or maybe just because you want to chat about normal, everyday things. Don't call me to tell me you're sorry for breaking MY heart. Don't call me to thank me for the explicitly kind things I've done for you. Just pretend I don't exist. It's a lot easier.

And I hate to admit this, but the past two years of my life have changed me, and not necessarily for the better. I am a very bitter person. I have been through a lot of things that have made me question my faith, my heart, and myself in general. I hate a lot of myself. I hate how I give myself away to people that don't give a shit about me. And I hate how fucking pathetic I can be when I get sad. I do and say things I regret the next morning. I have been in and out of the doctor's office for problems that were self-induced, like anxiety problems and insomnia. I've gone without eating and without sleeping, and for WHAT? It's ridiculous how we let ourselves destruct by our own means. I really do get carried away in the grief process. I am a hardcore griever, and I don't get over things very fast. I let them linger around, and every once and awhile, when things just don't seem to be going right, I remind myself of all the shitty things people have done to me in the past two years, and then I try to solidify my sadness. It isn't healthy and it isn't right, and that's a problem I have to sort out myself. But I don't see anyone calling MY house or writing ME fucking letters because they are worried. Damnit. Fuckety fuckish fuck.

I'm sorry if you don't approve of what you're reading, but damnit, I am tired of keeping this all inside. I cannot deny that it makes me upset. I can no longer do that to myself. It only leads to misguided anger and bouts of depression that are uncalled for. I am tired of being so unhappy. I want to do something about it. I need help, but it doesn't look like I'm going to get any from anyone else, so I'll just fucking do it myself.
In other news, I actually did have a good weekend despite the otherwise un-good...ness of this post. I went over to Sara's house last night for her birthday party and ate a lot of s'mores and drank a lot of 7-Up and laughed a lot and took some comical pictures in the process (and I'll post those some other time when I'm in suitable spirits). Seth put his hair in pigtails and Sara got melted marshmallow all over herself. I spent the night there and came home this morning to get ready to go to Mansfield with my family to eat. That was also fun. But then I got home and saw something that stirred up all this inner angst and I just had to release it. So yeah. Now it's time for me to do homework.

And here is a little something to grow on.

Step right up
March, push, crawl
Right up on your knees
Please, greed, feed
(No time to hesitate)

I want a little bit
I want a piece of it
I think he's losing it
I want to watch it come down

Don't like the look of it
Don't like the taste of it
Don't like the smell of it
I want to watch it come down

All the pigs are lined up
I give you all that you want
Take the skin and peel it back
Now doesn't it make you feel better?

Shove it up inside
Surprise, lies, stains
Like the blood on your teeth
Bite, chew, suck
Away the tender parts

I want to break it up
I want to smash it up
I want to fuck it up
I want to watch it come down
Maybe afraid of it
Let's discredit it
Let's pick away at it
I want to watch it come down

Now doesn't it make you feel better?
The pigs have won tonight
Now they can all sleep soundly
And everything is all right