So everyone hates you. How cool is that? The courage to be disliked can only get you so far. A part of me hates people too. Some people I loathe. But usually I shut that part of the brain down, anchoring it to the unspoken. I always want to forgive and forget, let it slide. In the moment, I let it all slide like water off the skin. None of it matters. This is the higher ground of a mature conscious. This is my modus operandi. But doing this all the time takes a lot of energy, and sooner or later you will crack. You can’t pretend forever. It is a form of fakery.
I have problems articulating verbally, so I rightly avoid conflict. Not to say that I’m a pushover. The problem is that conflict usually leads to a state of perpetual passive aggression, and I find that completely unbearable. It eats my soul. Avoidance, well, it work sometimes. You can forget for a time the awful visage of the person who told you to your face to go fuck yourself. But eventually something gives and you find yourself mid-day meditating on the depths of delusional insecurity that person was in when they said that to you. Every attempt to find the right response to the issue leads me to the conclusion that I can’t help this person. That I need to stay far away from them forever.
I also don’t like creating unnecessary problems for people. So after many times of failing a particular person, whether in doing favors incorrectly, accidentally breaking their belongings, or apparently leaving unnamed appliances open for several days while they were away that should have been closed -Did I even touch it? I don’t know… but it’s better to take the blame than to deny it- I give up. Every failure amalgamates guilt. Sticky, annoying guilt that round ten of “I’m sorry” just doesn’t cleanse anymore. And so, I can’t help this person anymore. I need to stay far away from them forever. At least these are my natural impulses.
The more I have issues with people, the more it get’s in my head. I ruminate on an interaction and always assume the worst. That I’ve done something wrong, or that just by being myself I’ve created some rift between us. But my confidence then rises and properly shifts the angle. It’s not my problem, it’s theirs. I cannot accommodate endlessly. I just can’t.
Are all relationships ultimately disposable? Like, plenty of fish? But neither do I want to reach a point where I look around and see that no one is there, realizing that the problem was within me the whole time. Though this is a tempting “epiphany” to have, I really don’t think it embodies the whole truth. But the conundrum stands that I don’t know the difference between a relationship that deserves work to amend and one that should be left and forgotten.
1)I am not an all understanding saint, though I try
2) people + time = murder
Familiarity breeds contempt. This is my most evident reality. But where does this acknowledgment lead? Maybe I avoid sameness by focusing compulsively on career. Existing in any given social sphere only for it’s upwards trajectory and based on materialistic and professional gain, with multiple divorces under the belt, or better, none at all. Or alternatively, the madness of enduring the same. I learn to endlessly ignore the flaws in those around me until I am blind to them entirely. I forgive and forget and nurture toxicity. I submit to my infinite insufficiencies to others. I aim to please everyone. I internalize my true frustrations into a habit of chronic masturbation. The relief I gain from it further cements my acquiescence to a life lived for anyone but myself.
Maybe. Maybe I should just work on myself for a while.