Being Second Best just isn't good enough Anymore

And it never was.

I really just don't understand anymore. And I just can't get my head around anything. I am so completely messed up by the bitch and she still doesn't get it and she insists on talking to me and what if I just go right ahead and have a nervous breakdown? I know, I know, here I am having another self indulgent sook but she won't go away! And if she doesn't go away then I can't start to heal. I'm sick of the way she has everyone wrapped around her little finger. So much so that the foreman at work tries to send her to the races with my horses now. What the fuck is up with that?! Lucky the boss actually has some respect for me.

Because not many people do anymore apparently.

I'm just hurting so much and I feel so useless. The whole saga just makes me feel so useless, unneeded and unnessecary. What kind of existence is that? I can't even think straight, I don't want to do anything, I just want to sleep and I can't even do that. I don't want to be not good enough anymore, I want to be happy. But I can't move from the circle in my mind. That bad horrible circle that is feeding me more and more horror and causing more and more trauma with each passing second.

I guess I'm just so lost in it all that I can't do anything. I can't function as I'd like, I can't even generate a proper discussion on this blog -- its just, well more or less, a stream of consciousness. My crazy consciousness. Dragging me into its depths. Promising me things it can't possibly make a reality.

I just. I'm tired of picking up the pieces.

- Sky

My Blade has Always been a Better Friend than most

My last few posts have been nothing short of self indulgent pity parties. But, that being said, I am still struggling to come to terms with the the gravity of what has happened. I had no way of knowing that this interesting turn in events would bring me to where I am. If I had of, I might have tried harder to leave things as they were.

Probably not though. Everything is constantly changing, and sometimes -- more often than not actually -- I am forced to adapt to that change, as best I can, whether I like it/want to or not. I think I simply sped up that process in this case. It seemed I was on a collision course with that friendship anyway. I'd spent time prolonging it, for no joy on the other side and it was time to cut my losses before it all went completely awry and out of my control. As I've expressed previously, it is pivotal that I be in as much control as possible. Without some kind of semblance of control, I have absolutely nothing. So yes, I engage in behaviours that mimic/offer me some kind of control -- however stupid.

But yes, things are constantly changing. Friendships change because people change. Sometimes people don't actually change, it seems to me that their true natures seem to become more apparent over time to the point where they are no longer the person you liked and knew. I too am changing, constantly. The thing that changes most is my perception of myself. This perception is constantly altered by what people say to me. Much like my speech. You may have noticed that my speech is easily influenced [that is so much better than the word I just invented, don't ask, it's late]. Someone said 'mate' to me one day, and now its all 'mate' this and 'mate' that. But that's a little off track. When people say things to me, they influence my pattern of thought.

For example: If you said to me, that I was an emo cutter then I would be terribly upset by this and spent a great deal of time internally processing this. Likewise, if someone suggested that my weight was increasing, well, I'm sure I'd go to extreme lengths to reverse that. And when doctors tell me all about how fucked up I am -- not in those words, they are medical professionals [though I'm not sure I could say that of all of them] -- I start believing that I'm just completely fucked up and with no hope of ever rectifying this.

And I do believe this.

And then of course, I find myself stuck down the "no one can help me" path, which is semi true as far as some of my physical problems go. So now that I believe to varying degrees that I am beyond help, I know not how to ask for it. Yes, even after all this time I still cannot bring myself to ask for help. There have been many, many nights where I could have and should have texted and rang someone, but I did not. I suffered silently and willed things to be better tomorrow. Sometimes they were, sometimes they weren't. It was more often the latter. And every time it ends up being the latter I ask myself why I didn't reach out and I've reached the following conclusions.

• Obviously there is a very strong element of fear. I am genuinely scared to ask my friends for help. I can be an absolute neurotic mess at my worst and I don't feel like I can impose myself or my issues on people like that. Friends or not. I certainly value what friendships I still have too much to jeopardise them like that. And I know you're thinking "you can always talk to me" and well, I've lost a few friends leaning on them. And it hurts, a lot. So yes, I am scared to be shunned for reaching out. I'm scared of appearing weak. And I'm absolutely terrified of having to say goodbye to the small group of good friends I have left [thank you inner psychotic Sky]
• There's certainly and element of pride. I value my ability to remain stoic in my resolve to face the day. If I can do it on my own, then I can do anything. I didn't just get this inner strength, I really worked at it. And if I appear weak now, who knows what can happen?!

Evidently the two intertwine a bit because I'm scared to appear weak. So all in all, fear, worry and concern seem to be the overriding factors that render me absolutely useless. I'm just so wrapped up in my worries I don't know how to reach out and paralyse myself to the point where I can't.

And as I pointed out with the lost friendships, who needs to be hurt again anyway?

So I cut.

And if I think I can cut away the pain, then by God I will try. It's also a control thing, I think, to a lesser degree. I can control that. For once, I can actually control the damage to my body. You cannot understand how important this is. Disgusting/feral/appalling yes, but oh so important. And unlike many of my friends, now and past, it's always there. My blade, my most reliable ally. Something to fall back on.

It's a sick, dirty habit that I don't know how to stop, and even now I'm actually starting to realise that I probably won't be able to. And why? Well, it seems to me that the need for it and the perceived benefits far outweigh whatever actual harm it may or may not be doing to me. I like the scars too [fuck that is sick], I feel real when I can see them and touch them and feel them. They make me unique. I'm not just another textbook depression case, nor am I something for the medical journals. I'm a person. I feel, think, hear and see. But sometimes I need a little reminding of that, and my good friend the blade will always be there to remind me in my times of need. 

Because people ultimately let you down and there's only so many times one can be let down before one just can't try it again. 

I may be getting to that point, if I'm not already there. But I just don't know. Because I want to trust my friends and have that outlet, but my better judgement is asking me not to. To hold a bit back every time. To say nothing incriminating so nothing can be used against me. To lie.

And I'm inherently good at that.

- Sky

Friends? Get some. Or shouldn't I bother anymore

These last few weeks I have been consumed, mostly, by anger and hate. Now as I'm sure you are well aware both these emotions are particularly strong and as such when I say they consumed me I really mean that they're the predominant emotions. Obviously there have been other emotions -- I've been utterly calm and I've been devastatingly sad -- but these are the ones I return to.

And quite unhappily at that.

So what is the object of my tumultuous cycle of feral emotion? The person I'm jealous of of course. Though I'm no longer sure jealously is the correct word. It really is hate/anger at this point. About a week and a half ago I completely flew off the handle. I felt that I was being over emotional, but that didn't stop me cycling from anger/hatred to desperate sadness and endless tears. And thus, the last week and a half I have consumed myself chiefly with reconciling my feelings.

It's no longer about the inadequacy in the face of the boy situation, but she's stealing my job and undermining my position within in the stable and to say the least I am very unhappy about this. It's kick started one of my more difficult weeks in recent times. Mostly because she was my best friend. We shared something that is of the utmost importance to me and up until the Sunday before last I tried very hard to forgive what she was doing for the sake of the friendship. But when on that Sunday night/Monday morning she told me that she was going to work I properly lost it. Hung her out to dry verbally to friends between bursts of sobbing. I was very, very wounded and the emotional hit I took took three days to recover from. I was absolutely exhausted.

But I made the effort to reconcile and move on. Played the caring friend once more. In fact I was the best friend ever on Saturday night and because I am the best friend ever I won't share the details. But I was awesome. And what became of my stellar effort? Further underminings because a certain someone couldn't cop that I was actually getting some shifts that she hadn't been offered. I don't care that you're going away next week, I don't care that you want to go to work, I don't care that you're enjoying it. I was getting two shifts to your seven. I like going in too. And it's certainly not my fault you're family planned a holiday.

So step off bitch.

I'm done with your underminings. I'm done with you lording it over me. Step off that high horse, you are absolutely no bloody good. I am the more experienced staff member, if anyone should be getting the unbalance of shifts it should be me. From that conversation on I can't remember which night but know it was this week I have been angry and filled with hate. I no longer wish to communicate with her. I have nothing left to give her. Nothing at all. I want to hit her actually.

I wondered at times whether I was overreacting and was simply being overemotional, but I have been assured that she has absolutely over stepped the line. I got her the job. At the end of the day you'd have honestly thought that that would have done something to earn me some respect for her. But no. I'm an object to be used when it suits her and cut down to nothing at her whim. And she has no idea I feel this way or what she's done. She has no idea. I couldn't spell it out clearer. But in her fairy land I guess things are different.

This whirlwind of emotion has also elicited from me my first cuts in some time. And despite the loss of a friendship, I honestly feel that this is the greater shame. I have once again allowed myself to be cut down and belittled to the point where I feel the need to put blade to skin to prove I don't even know what anymore. Today, I am deeply ashamed that I had to resort to cutting. And I'm only now further resentful of the fractured friendship that has brought me to this point. My misadventures with doctors were hard pressed to draw so much blood but this fucking bitch has crushed me. And for this, I cannot forgive. I am once again crushed by a friendship I cherished. Once again I find myself realising that my bonds with my friends are all as fragile as this and that they could all break at any time. Which is true, as I've learnt time and time again.

And as always, I am stuck for a solution. I can only try to accept that it was not meant to be. And even then I find that hard. Obviously, I'm meant to take something out from each friendship, learn. But I don't know what I'm learning to be honest. It seems like the only lesson -- that is glaringly obvious anyway -- is how to get hurt. I have, thanks to a certain someone, learnt that there is little value in pining for something lost and now find it easier to let go. Hence my readiness to dump this particular person who I have been referring to as my "former best friend".

The other thing I'm learning is to cherish the ones that last, and even more so the ones that are patched up again when all seems lost. These are the ones that are meant to be. And these are the ones I know I should and will fight for. But for someone who fails to see what is becoming of us? I have so very little to say to.

I'm genuinely sorry for this little pity party I'm having. But I cannot work it out of my system. The same vehement hate. The lurking hurt. Spiralling downwards and finally out of control before I try in vain to sew it all together again with a misguided cut. A woeful cycle.

That one day will break, as all things do. But only in their own time. Only when I'm ready to heal.

- Sky