Friday, March 6, 2009

Backbone's Back Alright! Beir Deir Deirn Da Deir! (Originally published on 9.17.2008)

Being disliked.

This is something I have never come to terms with. Ever. I hate that feeling. HATE IT. I will do EVERYTHING in my power to ensure that I am liked. That could include being a sugar mama, bending over backwards for people, never speaking up when I am hurt by someone’s actions, altering my personality if someone points out something that they don’t like, etc. Basically I’ve been changing everything about myself, for someone else. But methinks I can swallow this shit no longer. Yesterday I was informed that some people didn’t like me because I was “acting weird” when they saw me. Let me invite you in on the situation. I had just stopped taking Abilify and was going through some seriously fucked up side affect that basically zombified me. I was there but unable to really contribute conversationally. The best part about this that fuels my indignation is that I. Fucking. Told. Them. That. I. Was. Heavily. Medicated.

But did that matter?

Nope. I was still “weird” and disliked. Ok, let me go farther back. This couple includes a chick that doesn’t like me because of some action I have taken in my life. Now this would be understandable if SHE HADN’T DONE THE SAME FUCKING THING TWICE. I’ve only done it ONCE and I learned my lesson.

This anger is an actual good reaction. This means that I have had my fill of being a beat up ballerina for assholes that make snide comments about me that usually leave me sitting in the dark like the fucking match girl desperately trying to create a reality where I am ok and everyone is ok with me.

I realize now daydreaming about shit like that is useless. No one on earth is completely liked. No one. How the fuck did I expect to be? The problem is I need to learn to be ok with that. The people that don’t like me don’t matter to me because 1. They’re not in my life 2. They don’t care about me so their opinions really don’t matter 3. I have the most amazing friends that would beat some serious ass if they knew who these people were.

Now if someone disliked me because of a trait I hated about myself (for example, my ability to over dramatize EVERYTHING is one of them. Don’t worry, I am aware of it and am trying to fix it) then perhaps I would be a bit more understanding and less pissed off. But to be a hypocrite and not like me because of something I can’t control… lean in close to the screen please.

Go fuck yourself you piece of shit.

Yeah. That’s how I feel about that. And guess what people, if you tell me to “calm down about it” you may get the same response. I am never allowed to react to anything. People ALWAYS make this comment “Heather calm down, stop freaking out.”


First off, very FEW people have EVER seen me flip out. I can count them on one hand and honestly even that breakdown was subdued because they were there. NO ONE has seen me at my worst. NO ONE. So guess what. You’ll know when I’m freaking out because usually that entails self harm and a fuck ton of tears and a blank stare. SO please, please, please instead of saying “Heather stop freaking out” just let me react for even just a couple of minutes then just grab me and hug me. Please.

I am terrified of being a bitch because it seems that whenever I do stand up for myself people immediately interpret that as bitchiness when really I’ve grown a backbone and have something that is really important for me to say. I did this to a friend this weekend. She really didn’t understand how the phrase she kept using bothered me and I admit I should have just pulled her aside and been like “Yo, when you say this it makes me feel _____, please stop.” But I snapped on her, in a public place. I immediately became flustered and withdrew in my head terrified that she would hate me. We talked about it later and everything is ok but that little spark has been slowly fanning to the point where yeah, I’m going to stand up for myself. If this means people I know and care about thinking I’m becoming a bitch that will sadden me but not break me because I trust myself to now know when enough is enough.

What’s that sharp thing digging into my ass? Oh wow, my backbone! It’s back!!


But don't worry, I am still a starfish cricket at heart.


1 comment:

+/- said...

deep down you really do know that there is a difference between being a bitch, and standing up for yourself. if someone interprets it that way, that's on them. i was thinking about that kind of stuff recently. my neighbors are complete assholes, and i try to let them know. i don't know them as people, but in a community, they're pricks. my first instinct was to worry that they think i'm a bitch.

and then logic took over, and reminded me that they don't matter. if they do something to my house, i'll call the cops. but really, what else can they do if they do perceive me as a bitch?

as for these "friends" letting you know that there are traits of yours that bother them: how is that a friendly thing to do? i mean, if you were poking me in the eye all the time, i'd let you know it was irritating.

point me at 'em and i will kick some ass.

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