Back-pedaling.

I'm not quite who I want to be.
But I've come a long way from who I was.

But recently I seem to be going back.
A lot of withheld anger is coming out lately.
My jokes are becoming more agressive.
More mean.
I didn't even realize it until someone pointed it out.

I had the time of my life ripping someone to shreds the other day. Sure, it was a simple comic debate on the internet, but I hadn't had that much fun insulting someone's ignorance in a long time. Primarily because I never really went out of my way to insult someone's ignorance for a long time.

I'm getting mean again.

I don't want to.
I don't want to go back so far when I just started moving forward.

I'm being a lot more conscious of everything I say since it was pointed out to me.

I don't want her to find out who I used to be.
I don't want my old friend to see me go from who I am now back to the person she cut out of her life.
I don't want to hurt people.

I don't want to lose everyone again.

This house don't feel like home.

I've had a lot of serious reality checks lately.

I need to get out of here.

Opening the cellar door.

I just realized and came to terms with a lot of things, and I'm fucking pissed.

You were always so scared of me leaving you for someone else, finding someone better, cheating on you and those fears weren't through any action of my own but from your past experiences, and that was fine. I understood.

I assured you and assured you as many times as you needed to hear it that I would always be faithful to you. I wouldn't leave you for someone else, I would NEVER cheat on you, or anyone for that matter.

And I assumed I coud hold you to those same promises just due to the fear and hurt you had from your past experiences and that was the biggest mistake I had ever made.

I am not a trusting person. I can list off on one hand the people I wholeheartedly trust, and you used to be part of that. I realized you haven't been part of that for quite some time now.

You cheated on me twice.
I assured you hundreds of times over, comforted you, promised you that I woud never fuck you up like that, but you would. A one time mistake, I can forgive, and have, because that was the first time we dated and shit was going downhill fast. It fucked me up but I've forgiven you and him for that.

The second time?

There's no fucking excuse for that.
Not a single fucking one.
You were upset with me because I never surprised you anymore. We had only just gotten back together like a month and a half ago.
So I dropped you a little note. I took out the trash and I'd do the dishes when I got off work.
You asked if I could crash at my parents house that night so that you could have a couple friends over, so I said sure, I'll do the dishes another time.

Guess what you texted me later that night.
"I kissed her."
You know what your excuse was?
My surprise scared you into kissing her. My offer of doing the dishes

Made you cheat on me.

Everything was going great, we were happy.
But you fucked me up AGAIN.
YOU BETRAYED ME TWICE.

And you know what I did?
I was so fucking in love with you that I let it slide, never coming to terms with how much you fucked me up. And that fucked me up worse.

I never occured to me that the reason I started checking your phone constantly was because you had given me reason not to trust you. That you had given me reason to suspect any time you said you'll be home late that you might be cheating on me for a third time.

I HATED myself for having to check your phone. I thought I was being the most unreasonable person in the world because I wanted to trust you but you had made that impossible.

You made me swear up and down, day and night, over and over and over again that I would always be faithful, but you couldn't be bothered.
You didn't care.

And immediately after you fucking cheated on me the second time, that night, when we were talking, you tried to manipuate me into having a "relationship" where I could provide you the emotional coddling you wanted while you went out and fucked anyone you wanted.
Another thing I let slide and buried inside.
So fuck you for all of that.

And the thing that pisses me off the most, is him.
No, not him himself, he's a great guy, and he's probably better for you than me.
But you know what I'm getting at.

One time, when we almost broke up, you told me you were feeling really strongly towards him and if we broke up you'd go right to him.
First of all WHY THE FUCK would you tell me that
WHY THE FUCK would you fuck me up like that
So fuck you for that.

Second of all, when you said you wanted to try and make it work, not when I pushed you to promise me that you'll try, which I did and will own up to, but when YOU said it, When YOU wanted to try, knowing that my trust is fucked with, knowing that I know that you have feelings for this guy, you wanted to keep going, and of course I said yes because I was too fucking blinded to realize anything.

When you wanted to spend time with me (which was never doing anything I wanted to do, by the way), when we were watching YOUR SHOWS, you wouldn't talk to me, you wouldn't watch the fucking show, even.
You would sit there and text him all fucking night and every fucking time I looked up at you to say something and I saw you texting with his name on your phone which was 9 times out of 10 that I looked at you, it fucking ripped me to shreds.

You made me swear up and down, day and night, over and over and over again that I would never leave you for someone else, but you couldn't be bothered.
You didn't care.

Because that's exactly what you fucking did.
You didn't have the mercy to at least end it sooner because I know that you know that you were fucking me up because I know now, looking back at it, the shit I was doing, the checking your phone, the refusing to go to work because you and him would be here without me, the waking you up holding on to you and bawling my eyes out, YOU FUCKING KNEW.
There was no way that you didn't.

I'm fucking angry right now. Everything's coming out.
I opened the cellar door.

But I'm not bitter.
I won't take this out on the next person to come around.
And I don't hate you.
And if you need me, I'll still be there.

But don't fuck him up like you fucked me up.
I'm your mistake.
Learn from me.

5am scrambled ramblings

My brain's really scrambled right now.
I don't know what's going on.
I feel alone, guilty, angry.
I know why I'm guilty.
I'm an asshole.
I should've figured I wasn't ready when she called, told me she rolled her car so that I didn't get any misinformation and immediately went into a panic of how she is how is she gonna handle this she must be freaking out does she need a ride to work? I can do that no you dumbass she doesn't want you in her life you fucking god damn idiot get that through your thick fucking skull stop looking at her instagram stop checking her tumblr yes you're still blocked on facebook get out of her life

I don't know why I feel alone. There's no reason to. I have friends. And I've been making new friends at work. Hell, I just hung out with a fuck ton of friends the other night. It was great.
Why do I feel alone? It doesn't make any sense. I can't make heads or tails of anything.

I'm angry because I'm not your fucking monster. You tried to make me your blame magnet and make me a monster and I should hate you for that, I should be angry about that but that's not what I'm angry about I'm angry that you did that to me, and after all that and some more I'd still move fucking mountains for you. I'm angry because, I don't care if we haven't spoken in 10 minutes or 10 years, I'd still fucking sprint to your side if you needed me because god damn that's who I am. That's what I do.

You always said it and everyone else said and all that past life shit said it.
I'm your fucking shield.
I'm everyone's shield.
I get beat up and I beat myself up because god damn it I don't want to hurt people anymore but that's all I know how to fucking do.

Every fucking person I care about I end up hurting and I don't know how to stop and it's bullshit I want to make someone happy for fucking once without hurting them.

I'm fucking sick of this.
I'm sick of being a walking bad decision.

The inevitable.

I'm scared that my dad's gonna die.
I know he's going to die.
He's dying.
Slowly.
He can die as I'm writing this.
He can die in 20 years.
And I'm not saying that to be facetious and dramatic. As I've said before in some of my other posts, my dad is very sick.
And there is a very real risk of him dropping dead at any moment.
I'm not ready.
I'm not ready.

Every time I think I've accepted it, there's some big scare that sends me into hysterics and realizing that I'm not ready for him to go.

I'm a disappointment. I'm lazy. I'm a fucking drop out. I used to say, since I was literally 2 years old, that I was gonna graduate at UCLA, and my dad boasted that fact proudly for years because, yeah, y'know what, I could've made it.

But then I couldn't even finish high school.

I can never shake the feeling that he's disappointed in me and I'm his only surviving son and I don't want him to die thinking I'm just sitting on my bed playing video games all day. And sure, I just got a new job, but my last one, I held for about 7 months. In that 7 months, I had almost 30 absences.

The tolerance is 8. I should've been fired after 2 months. I was lucky. And I know he's disappointed in that.

I just want to make him proud before he's gone.

I'm scared that I'm gonna lose the people I've reconnected with recently. One of them left in the first place because I was a complete asshole and toxic to be around, and I missed her something fierce. She was my best friend for a long time, and anytime I talk to her or hang out with her I feel like I've got something to prove, and as far as I'm concerned, I do. She can swear up and down that the past is in the past but god damn it the past is where I live. I'm stuck in it.

Another person, I left because of something they did. A massive betrayal. I learned to forgive, and in a time of panic and crisis I called him and he was there in 15 minutes. After not talking for 6 months, he showed up when I needed him with no hesitation. But he's a hermit. He was there when I needed him but I'm constantly bugging him to hang out and talk and play games with me mostly because I just wanna catch up on time lost. And I know that he's constantly busy, 2 jobs and a family life now, which is fine, y'know, live your life.
But the anxiety and natural fear I have eats me. I know he's not avoiding me, but got damn it I can't get rid of that feeling. That he's already sick of me, that he thinks I'm annoying and clingy and needy and still an immature piece of shit and that it was a mistake to help me.

I don't want to lose anyone else.

I'm scared that one day my dad is gonna die and I'm gonna show up on your doorstep panicked and lost and in shock and needing you and you're gonna tell me to fuck off which you have every single right to do.

But I know that when it happens, I will show up on your doorstep. You're the only person that's ever been able to calm me down when it comes to my dad. I'll show up, knock, panicking because of my dad and I don't know what you're gonna say if you're gonna hug me or punch me or tell me to get the fuck out or what I don't know.

But I know that I'll be there. And I know you don't owe me a god damn thing.

I'm scared of being lost.

Parakeets and Golden Retrievers.

I've been called two different animals, by two important people at different times in my life.

First, I was called a parakeet. I was called that for months before I was finally told what it meant.

"Birds are hostile.
Really hostile things.
Mean.
But they also can't stand being alone.
Especially in captivity.
And parakeets, I remember
They have to be bought in pairs, usually
And if one dies,
You have to replace it.
Before the other one gets lonely, or bored
It feels abandoned, alone.
They need to be talked to often
They start peeling away their feathers, too.
They're anxious creatures.
It's a cruel thing, to get just one."

It fit. That was a couple years ago, but it still fits, I think. I've always been generally hostile. I used to be a whole lot worse, but even so I'm still a dick.

But I have a crippling fear of being alone. Of losing my friends. Of people leaving me. Forgetting me. I think that may be part of the reason I do some of the crazy shit I do. It's memorable. People can't forget me that way.

When I was called a Golden Retriever, it wasn't directly.
The person who called me that had their own blog, much like this. Posted about a Golden Retriever. Its loyalty.

They said,
"Real friends are Golden Retrievers.
Real friends are loyal.
I've realized that some people honest to god cannot vocalize emotions for the life of them,
but that actions speak volumes when they come to your rescue.
Yes, communication is INCREDIBLY important,
but there's something to be said about non-verbal.
Maybe you were never good at telling me how you felt,
But if I'd have know how fast you'd run to catch me,
maybe things would be different."

The particular situation that brought this up, was, this person had gotten arrested. And knowing them, one of the kindest, sweetest people you would ever meet who sometimes made impulsive decisions, did not belong in jail. When I heard the news, and that they were still there, I rushed. I panicked. I called everyone asking if they had money I could borrow to post bail. I'm a huge gamer. Games are one of the biggest aspects of my life.

I was prepared to sell every single one if I had to.

And when I was in my other friend's car, trying to round up money to post bail, and someone told the bail was actually $1000 instead of the $100 I previously thought?
I nearly broke down in tears.

I devote myself to people. Sometimes to a fault, sometimes to an unhealthy degree. But you can't say that I'm not there if you need me. Because I make sure to tell people that almost every day.

Anyways, this rambling has been on my mind a lot.
Especially now that one of these people recently re-entered my life, while the other just left. Hopefully it's just a vacation, but if it's permanently then that's okay too.
I can't decide if I'm one or the other, both, or neither.

But I've never been a good judge of myself.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Those who routinely place the blame on themselves for everything, even if it has nothing to do with them, won't hesitate to believe you when you tell them they're abusive.

Because there has to be an explanation why you're leaving. Why I fucked everything up. And they'll pick apart every second of that however long relationship and go over it with a fine tooth comb, finding every mistake they made, every little hiccup and fuck up, any time they were yelling at you in what was a two way shouting match, and take the blame from you and put it all on them, Just to validate what you told them, to validate this new identity as a monster you created for them even though none of this is what you intended because they care too damn much for you to see you as anything less than perfect and, yes.

That's unhealthy. And probably contributed to a lot of the things you would call abuse.
They refuse to confront the times that you hurt them. They can't stand to think that this person would betray them like that, especially not more than once. That this person doesn't appreciate all the time given, so much time that they have none to themselves. They dedicate themselves to this person.

And yes, things get bad sometimes. Things got fucking awful and nasty and both of you said things you shouldn't have. And it's unfortuante that it went that way.

But if you call, what is at it's core, dedication, no matter the flaws surounding it, if you call dedication, abuse? Then that person is broken.

That's all I know how to do. Clearly I need to work on how I do it because I let you walk all over me and you never realized you were doing it. And that's my fault. But I am not an abuser. I am not a monster.

Maybe if we had caught things earlier, and stopped them, things might be different.
We might've been able to at least stay friends.
I'm sorry.