Understanding Where I’m At

The reason I’m writing this is because I really don’t know. Everything in my life feels as if it’s crumbling around me, and I’m desperately clutching to catch any pieces I can, only to discover that none of the pieces are tangible. They pass right through my outstretched hands as if they were holograms, displayed by some needlessly cruel puppet master, toying with his favorite victim.

My pain largely starts at the professional level. I spend more of my waking week at work than I do at home, or at least it feels as if I do. There is definitely not enough time in my day for any sort of social life, that’s for sure. And normally, that would be upsetting, but not crushing. However, most of the pressure of the store is being placed on my shoulders, as my boss is incredibly lazy and the other shift managers are either largely absent or incompetent. Sometimes they’re both at once. Compounded with the fact that, despite being a shift manager, I don’t actually get paid anymore than a regular staff member, and the fact that the store is steadily losing employees, whenever at work I am simply overwhelmed by everything going on around me. Principles alone allow me to struggle through each day, as I refuse to sacrifice work ethic to my stress overlord.

As we climb down from work, we reach my transportation situation. A couple of months ago, my car broke down outside of a post office. Due to the previously mentioned busy work life, I wasn’t able to go back to it for about five days, at which point it had been towed and kept in the towing company’s lot for four of those days. They were asking for $500 to get the car out of their lot, which would have left me with absolutely zero money to attempt to fix the car that already had several crippling issues, much less any cash to eat or pay bills. So I had to leave that car behind, and I was without transportation of my own for those two months. I had to rely on others, something I despise doing and which crushes my pride every time I do. But finally, this week, I bought a car of my own! No longer was I reliant on others, no longer did I have to schedule my life strangely to account for others’ schedules! That was, until, the car blew a tire on my way in to work today. There is no donut in my car to easily attach and continue going for a short period of time, either. Not only that, but as I attempted to remove the tire today I discovered that one bolt had been stripped nearly completely, making it impossible to remove via conventional methods (i.e. the only methods I know). So now, I do not even have the transportation I just purchased.

Next, my future living situation is a constant flip-flop. Currently, I live in a cheap apartment where I don’t have central air conditioning (I have a wall unit, which just does not reach the bedroom, and in Texas weather, that’s basically death) and where I’m constantly battling pest infestation. Even after a month of near-constant spraying, they have not completely disappeared. I was meant to move elsewhere with my ex-girlfriend a few months ago, but I believe the “ex-” prefix precludes that sad conclusion. Afterwards, I was meant to room with my best friend (that isn’t Raynar), but due to loss of my car they felt uncomfortable with my moving in and that future was nixed as well, possibly forever. Which leaves me living alone (and I don’t cope well with loneliness) and in an environment that only frustrates and upsets me.

Finally (and this is something that I’m terrified of talking about anywhere, but I know if I don’t get it out, I’ll just implode in a tangled mass of feelings), I’m consumed by my feelings for another person. Said other person has circumstances that make it impossible to address these feelings with them, but I feel like unless I do, I can’t move on. But that’s not fair to them, to subject them to my selfish feelings just because I have them. I’m just trapped in this cycle of liking them but unable to tell them that I do, but also unable to just drop the feelings and move on. It’s like my heart is caught in a vice grip, and either way I move can only lead to it being ripped open, and therefore I am forced to suffer in silence so as to not hurt others.

All of this while I’m trying to write, both a short story and the (supposedly) regular video game reviews, leaves me with no creative energy or motivation. There are things that I would like to do with my life, but circumstances only depress me and leave me incapable of doing anyrthing but half-heartedly playing video games and watching Netflix (which, incidentally, Master of None is what upset so much that I had to write this right after seeing a certain episode. Watch that show). I don’t know how to progress from this point, but this is where I’m at, and where I’m stuck for the time being.

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My Relationship With Friendship

Throughout my life, I have never been good at making friends. There’s just something about social interaction that is so draining and bothersome that much of the time, I would rather just not bother. However, my skills as a wallflower are second to none, and while I may not like interaction all that much, I do still prefer to be in the company of others.

Not aiding in my social growth is the fact that I moved almost once a year between the ages of eight and eighteen. In fact, I still move quite regularly; I’m moving right now, for instance. So, I was never able to form solid, lasting relationships with people just because I knew I wouldn’t be around for their birthday the next year. Again, there are a couple of exceptions, but for the most part, when I moved, it was to an entirely different place, not within the same town or region.

For example, in the ninth grade, I lived in a little town in Alabama about half an hour outside of Montgomery. Some of the best friends I’ve ever had, I made while going to the high school there, but halfway through the 10th grade, I dropped out (technically I became homeschooled, but that’s an entirely different story). But while I wasn’t going to that high school, I still lived in that town for another six to eight months. In this time, I stayed in contact with exactly nobody, completely dropping off of the grid. All my time was spent alone, which at the time I was accepting of, but now deeply regret.

If not for the cosmic coincidence of reconnecting with two of my friends through work last year, those friendships would be completely lost. Not only that, I would have gone on living without them, oblivious to what I had sacrificed. That isn’t all right to me, and I am so thankful that it didn’t turn out that way.

However, while my relationships with those physically close to me came and went, I began to form longer-lasting bonds with people I met through the internet. For an example of them, look no further than our very own Komoto Raynar, whom I have known for over seven years, longer than anybody else currently relevant to my life (this includes family. He is my family now). Unfortunately, he is also a prime example of my biggest obstacle in friendships; myself.

The main problem here is that, after about a year or so, I become a terrible friend. One of the worst, in fact. I bully, belittle, demean, take advantage, drop away, come back like nothing happened, and still claim to be your best friend. As that terrible, overplayed song by Lit goes, “I am my own worst enemy.” It’s difficult for me to change, as well. As hard as I try, I still often slip back into my old ways. And Raynar is the one who has unfortunately taken the brunt of it, but he’s also the reason I try to change.

He is important to me, moreso than anybody else in the world. “Jokingly,” I would¬†sometimes tell my partners that he came before even them. The quotations are there because it was never a joke, he truly is the greatest person in my life. And a lot of that comes down to one important factor; he came back. After betraying and hurting him in one of the worst ways possible, he continued to be my friend (I mean, it took him a year to even speak to me again, but I’m not complaining. It was my fault).

Where this fits in to the overall theme of this article is that most people did not come back. As soon as I showed my worst, they cut me loose and didn’t look back. Even worse than that is the fact that I cannot honestly blame them. I was needlessly cruel and thoughtless. I said hurtful things because it was fun, I boasted about my lack of consideration and care, I intentionally did things to drive them away just to see how much it would take to chase them off. And just to top it all off, I never fought.

Retaining a friendship was never important to me, because despite how much I cared for these people, I felt I was unworthy of their time. Part of me did not want them to be my friends purely because, in my mind, they could do better. And a large part of me still believes this, even as I rebel against the idea.¬†Saying this is not meant to garner sympathy or pity, because I need none (well, maybe a little is nice, because I’m a special snowflake who needs to feel important). Rather, this is just meant to clarify the whole picture, which is this:

A burdensome asshole, an uncaring prick, a relentless bully; I am all of these things. But I do, truly, want to change. And to start doing that, I’d like to apologize to all of my friends, past and present, whom I have hurt or discarded like so much wet cardboard. I did you wrong, and I am truly sorry.

 

(Remember, it’s not those that flock to your best, it’s those that stick around through your worst. This world is what you make of it, just as you typically are what the world makes you. ~Ray)