A Moment Of Rantness.

Frankly, I’m just angry – at what?

I’m angry at myself for not taking pride in my life and waiting so long to take matters into my own hands. Only I control how my life can proceed and if I’m so unhappy, why did I wait so long to change it? My health has taken such a downward spiral that it’s now affecting all of my choices, in every aspect of my day to day life. When I look in the mirror, I feel like Deb Dobkins (the character from Drop Dead Diva), the twig trapped in a plus sized body without the possibility of an escape. This Hypothyroidism has taken my world; shoved it into a bottle, and shaken everything until my destiny just collapsed before my eyes. And what did I do about it? Absolutely nothing… Just stood there and told myself that I deserved every second of it.

Depression may be a possible suspect as to why I let my life fall to pieces, but that’s still no excuse. I get angry because I’m alone, and yet, I did it to myself. The past has taught me not to trust, to hold everyone as far away from my heart as possible with the tip of my fingers and to never tell anyone anything that you would not want the world to know. How can you live a life like that? How can you spend each day struggling to stand up on your own two feet because you have no other choice. There’s no one to lean on, because I’ve made sure the only pillar available was myself. I’ve been so afraid of being weak, forcing myself to be nothing but strong, that I’ve ultimately tore myself apart and created the weakest person that I know.

It kills me that no one notices. I reach out and it’s taken lightly, as if I’m simply in a bad mood. But again, there’s no one to blame for that but myself. How are people supposed to care about what I’m going through when I make sure that they never know to begin with. I want someone to hold me and tell me I’m worth fighting for, but the only arms nearby are the arms I’ve mutilated, torched and cursed at. Despite everything I may say; I’m not okay, I’m not going to be fine, and I do not want to be ignored. I want you to bother. I want you to pay enough attention to know that something’s wrong. I want you to stay there with me and let me rant my heart out until I burst into tears. I want to know I have someone there.

But that’s too much to ask for.

Obviously, there are a few exceptions to the rule, as there always is. But even then, the few that are there, aren’t really there – they’re miles, Provinces, States, countries away … And the ones who are close enough to reach, rarely make the effort to try. Or if they do try, I end up somehow being used in the process, so the effort wasn’t ever really for me in the first place [not always, but most of the time].

I do my best to help everyone, to try to be there for people when I cannot even fix my own life. But when will it be my turn? When will someone turn around and say, “Kristy, don’t go – don’t do it. Everything’s going to be fine, I’m here for you.” I take time away from myself to listen to your rants, to help you with your problems and try to solve the seemingly impossible for you, and it’s as if you couldn’t care less. To say that that hurts, is beyond an understatement. I’ve given up on caring for people. I’m tired of being the “greatest person” when you need something and going back to the unloved toy on the shelf when I fixed all of your pitiful problems. I’m not your therapist. I’m just someone who’s trying to be a good friend.

This place has exhausted me. The people that I’m surrounded by have blinders on, focusing all of their energy on themselves and crushing anyone who dares to stand in their way. Do you ever realize that the world does not revolve around you?!

People tell me that I don’t open up enough, but how can I when all you do is talk about yourself. I try to throw a line into the conversation here or there and I’m a b!tch for “rudely interrupting”. Well, how about you take a breathe for all of 30 seconds and actually let someone else matter for a change? I listen to you whine and complain about the most pathetic things in the world and yet it’s completely unacceptable of me to ask for help. If you’re going to speak to me only when you need something and then treat me like the annoying little sister who won’t shut up, then f_cking start paying me to listen to your bullsh!t. I asked for help, in desperate need of help, and I’m totally out of line by doing so. But when your life is “falling apart” because your one-week boy/girlfriend broke up with you, it’s demanded of me to take time out of my life and mend your broken heart. Frankly, that’s not my job. It’s not my life, so fix it yourself. Or if I actually take the time to help you, at least do me the favor and appreciate it. Don’t treat me like it’s expected of me, as if I’m a slave.

At the end of the day, I know there are a few who are there for me, but I just don’t see it. Sometimes you’ll listen, but then give off the impression of, “Here she goes again” or make it into a competition of “Who’s Life Is Worse?!”. Up until now, I’ve faked most of my life; pretending to be something I’m not, hiding what I truly feel and never letting anyone get close enough to touch me. And whenever I let someone actually come close to the real person who inhabits this body, they leave. Am I really that awful?

I hate when people say they miss me, I hate it when they say “we should hang out sometime”, and I hate it when they tell me I’m an amazing person to be around. Mainly because you never see me. I’ve tried to get together, I’ve pushed myself beyond my own limits to be social in groups that make me feel claustrophobic and I do things I hate, but you love, just so we can spend time together. But I’m tired of being the outcast. I’m tired of chasing after you trying to build a friendship, when you don’t give me the time of day in return. You say you miss me, then why have you never asked me to get together? You’ll take the time to invite my boyfriend, who you met through me, to places and parties and just happened to forget about including me. Well, I’ve had enough of feeling left out and having my eyes flood with tears. You liked me when I faked it, when I pretended to be the person you wanted me to be… And now that I need you, now that my shields have crumbled, you walk away. F_ck you. No, I don’t drink. No, I don’t act stupid. No, I don’t sleep around. No, I don’t think I’m pretty. No, I don’t want to go see strippers. No, I don’t want to pick you up when you’re too wasted to walk. No, I don’t like being hit on by complete strangers or worse, being kissed randomly and on purpose by one of your friends. I like to go see movies, walk around parks and mountains, go by the water to swim or boat, I enjoy going out for dinner, taking pictures. I like the simple things. I’m not a party girl. I’m not comfortable in crowds. And I don’t like shopping. What is so wrong with that?

Kevin says I need a “b!tch-friend”, just someone I can sit with and rant about anything and everything to.

“And then, the client totally hung up on me.”
“Whaaaattt? Girl, lets go kick his ass!”

And laugh as we go back and forth about each others lives, be random and crazy. Just be ourselves.

I am thankful for Kevin. He has stayed by me through some of the worst times of my life. To say that this man truly loves me for me does not even begin to express the half of it. He is my best friend, my girlfriend, my big brother, my protector, my confidant, my lover, my soulmate, my absolute everything. And I don’t think I would have made it this far without him – I know I wouldn’t have.

Now this isn’t to say that I have no one at all. I know some people are going to now yell at me saying that they’re always there for me when I need someone, that I push them away… etc etc. I know I do. And I’m not saying that I ultimately don’t have a single soul to turn to, I’m just simply expressing how I feel. And how I feel, is like a total outcast. I’m not invited out. I’m not included in anything. People usually only speak to me because they need something from me… etc. I realize there are a handful of people who do try to include me and I sometimes decline the offer, and I am sorry. It’s difficult for me to step out of my comfort zone and actually acknowledge the fact that I’m wanted. It’s come to the point in my life where I’m so depressed about being depressed, so angry for being angry, and so alone [even when surrounded by people], that I just simply get upset because I’m angry for being alone, when I chose to be. My life has turned into this massive catch 22, and no matter how hard I try to knock it off its’ tracks, I seem to just keep on spinning. I just don’t feel like I’m wanted, as though I matter or have any impact on anyone’s life anymore. If I were hit by a car today, I honestly feel like no one would notice.

And no, this isn’t for attention. Although I wish people would notice, I’m not crying out for someone to grab my hand and pull me on the sympathy train. I just needed to scream out what my heart has been aching over for years.

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