God, I make myself sick, sometimes. I try not to be needy, and I feel like I have taken all the blame for how things have been lately, because I know I am a needy mess. I know I have been hypercrtical, and overly dependent. My friend claims not – that I have just been sad, and that it’s okay. But, it’s so lame of me to need to lean on someone else as much as I do. When someone doesn’t come through, it feels like the end of the world. I hate myself for putting myself in such a spot – where my feelings are so contingent on someone else doing what they say they will, or being there, or whatever.
Like, last night, I was talking to this person who insisted he was going to talk me through the whole dealing-with-Minnie’s loss situation. I should have known that this person had no idea what he was biting off, or how ugly I could get while in that kind of pain. I know I was impatient when he would say the wrong thing, but a couple times, he REALLY said the wrong thing. Over the weekend, he asked if I thought it was just my period jacking me up emotionally, or if there was something else significant that happened, after I had just spent 40 minutes or so explaining that I was upset because I lost my daughter August 8th 2000, and that this is only the 2nd time I have tried to face that without heroin (the 1st time being what would have been her 1st birthday – I just drank then). I NEVER talk about Minuette. I rarely can, but he convinced me to do so, and I have tried.
I have also tried to be fair today, reconsidering things – I know I was being hypercritical and unfair to him, at times.
But, I was in a horrible place, which you would pretty much expect, under the circumstances, and this person INSISTED that I lean on him, about this. Insisted…
and, yesterday, he was passing out, and needed to sleep way early, and he suddenly said something (mid-conversation) like "I can’t keep doing this." I was so hurt. I have tried to push away all my emotional reactions to things that I know aren’t meanly intended. I was such a wreck – I didn’t want to make any promises about not hurting myself or not using smack when I was staring down all that dark, awful time, alone with my thoughts. I felt like such a burden. Being alone terrified me, and keeping him onthe phone made me feel like a selfish bitch. I cried and cried. I couldn’t imagine getting through that. I wanted to die, so much. But, I promised, because he said "please," and he swore up and down that today would be better. It would be easier… he would be rested, and he could really be there for me, he said. "Tomorrow will be so much better," he said. I bought it. Maybe, he said what he had to say to calm me down, or maybe he just forgot, somehow, but he made plans for tonight, and I will probably wind up getting to talk to him even less than yesterday. And, I will be alone even longer – I put off plans when they were offered earlier, because I thought I was staying in to talk to my friend. I know it sounds odd, but we live far away, so it’s like the closest thing we have to hanging out. I felt like I was building up my strength – gaining on happiness, and pulling myself back together. Now, I am fighting back tears.
W/e… I just feel let down. I am trying to be patient and understanding, and I am trying to accept that I am the problem, and no one else, but given that I DID NOT WANT TO OPEN THIS PANDORA’S BOX IN THE FIRST PLACE, I don’t feel like this is entirely fair. W/e…
What difference does it make?
I get on these I-am-gonna-be-all-better kicks, and then I get on my I-just-want-to-die kicks. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve got it all down, and it all makes sense, and I can totally manage this, and then… some small thing f@cks up, and I can’t deal. Whatever… I don’t plan anything drastic, at the moment. If I broke a promise, it wouldn’t be in a big way – suicide or heroin. But, it is hard not to burn or cut myself, sometimes. I have to have something to do with all this hurt.
