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Stoic people actually trim hedges

31 Aug

I have decided to rekindle my blogging while I am in a shit, depressed mood as this is usually when I do my best writing, nonetheless. Last night I had a friend essentially tell me off in an unprompted and rather curt way and that encounter has left me feeling a little, ok, a LOT under the weather. Some may remember how a similar thing happened to me last year, where a few women who I thought were my friends, ended up stabbing me in the back or just plain old forgetting about me, but, I have to admit that the debacle from last eve makes those women seem like fairy princesses who made me hand woven blankets of sugar and spice.

I’m up to a nice, round, even number of people in the last 18 months who have removed themselves from my list of contacts – last night makes 6 – And while I like even numbers and all, this is just getting RIDICULOUS. I’m starting to feel like I am seriously dysfunctional, like I have a legitimate defect about me which causes people to drop me like a leper who doesn’t understand what PERSONAL SPACE means. Maybe I throw too much of myself into friendships, and end up expecting more out of people than they can actually give. Maybe I allow everyone else to borrow my energy, but never ask for any in return, thus making me out to be a push-over and an easy target for misdirected aggression. Maybe I’m so insecure with myself that I latch hold of people who I think NEED me, and through that, find a sort of value for myself, but can never really evolve into the equal contribution which ANY relationship, platonic or romantic, should be. Or maybe I’m just fucking crazy and attract crazies. Who knows?

My family is aware of my struggles, and my mom’s supportive, yet misguided, answer to all of my emotional problems is to always go do some yard work. Seeing how my mother never lets things get to her as easily as I do, or at least is better at hiding her emotional duress than I am, I thought WHAT THE HELL? and tonight I mowed, weed whacked, weeded my brick patios and edged my walk in an attempt to walk off my injury. I have to admit, those 4 hours I spent in my backyard went by much faster than a similar length of time spent with my ass embraced in the soft, chocolate colored micro-suede fabric that is my couch, but I still can’t seem to shake off the feelings of desertion and disconnect that I’ve been left with since yesterday – maybe I should have pruned some trees, too?

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