Fuck, I mean, forget you.

Posted: February 1, 2011 in Uncategorized
I am not a passive person. I may have a long fuse, but once I reach my limit, I don’t hesitate going into confrontation mode. It took a lifetime of being passive-aggressive and offering the other cheek to make me realize that I can’t let things slide at the expense of my feelings and what I think is right. Praise be for the long fuse because it allows me to have that window of time to examine if I’m really in the right.
Once I reach confrontation mode, I then have the choice whether to act upon it or not. When you ruminate over something long enough, you can figure out if it’s worth the fight or if you should just let it go. More often than not, I breathe easy when I decide to just let go because once my head is cleared, I know the drama is never worth it. Though the journey to getting there can be arduous and painful.
I let go if I have absolute faith that things will sort themselves out over time. Maybe people just need a time out. Maybe I need the time out. Eventually when the dust has settled, we can get back into resuming the friendship. Yet this is rare and this is a gift; it can only work when both parties take it upon themselves to right the wrongs while managing with finesse to keep it on the down low.
The reality is that the real world can be a lot like high school. Some people never grow up, some people will forge alliances against people, some people still take great joy in talking about other people’s lives, and some people will show no mercy in acting like a total douche.
I’m not saying I’m perfect. I’ve gone through life wearing all sorts of unflattering labels. But I’m no more psycho, bitchy, or unstable than you, or you, and you, or YOU. So get off your high horse!
The difference is that I have long ceased caring about what people think and I decided to start caring about what I am as a person. The people I listen to, should be people worth listening to. I may let things go, but I don’t take shit lying down.
I left high school years ago, and I have no intention of going back or having its mentality cripple the present and the future. I’m learning to recognize where I’ve gone wrong and the difference now is that I’m all about bettering the self and trimming the fat.
Alright, I do feel better now.
Eventually I ran out of tears.
I never thought that day would come. It came to a point that I learned to be scared of emotion, to the point of developing a huge mistrust for it. I learned to fear things I couldn’t understand or take apart. If my reason gets stumped, I give up on what I’m feeling entirely. I sleep it off, take a nice long hit, or make something.
I can’t do emotion anymore. As a good friend told me, she’s tired of the love songs. Lonely. Sad. Depressed. Anxious. Helpless. Great, I’m feeling a certain way, but these days, I automatically follow the feeling with the question of “Well, what do you plan to do about it?” Either you do something or you quit whining. That’s what I tell myself now.
I’m alright. It’s just that today, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to do hugs anymore, I struggle listening to drawn out problems that don’t offer solutions. I don’t know how to drop the guards anymore.
I’ve outgrown the theatrics, but I wonder if being in the land of the zero emotion can be just as bad.
Sometimes I feel like a ghost — though I guess I’d rather not feel anything, than to feel everything all at once. I feel like I’m in between moments, in between one consciousness and another.

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