An Open Letter

I sometimes feel like I yap on this blog just to hide the posts I have whenever I struggle with something or write things actually vulnerable. I feel pretty worried about all the random people I know in real life who may stumble across this. I don’t think that any random person I meet should care enough to consistently look at this – but I still do have the fear that some of the people I interact with a good amount on Discord with look at this. Oh well, I think I’ve only gotten good responses or neutral responses regarding this. I originally really expected a lot more harassment or jokes, but I am uncomfortably surprised that they never came. Oh well. I’m pretty tired from working for a while so I’m going to go to sleep. Goodnight me!

If I cried my dad would hit me until I stopped, while yelling at me to stop crying. My mom would watch in approval. I still can't cry around anyone. When I come close to crying I shut down. Even when I'm alone. If I come close to crying around someone, I turn into the kid being hit and it all goes quiet.

I feel self-loathing for several different reasons. I set up traps for other people, and when they inevitably don’t do things I use it to confirm the horrible things depression makes me believe.

I couldn’t help but remember as a child how it didn’t matter what I felt – at a relatively young age, I learned to bottle it up and permanently appease my Mom. I had no control, the only choice I had was to make her feel better at whatever cost to myself. Either that, or she didn’t talk, look, or touch anyone for months over singular small issues. One time my dad texted back “ok” in response to a text about there being a rain storm in San Diego since he was rushing to a meeting while in Asia. Because of that, she wouldn’t acknowledge that we existed for 6 months, even after he came back. We had nothing to do with it. She started ignoring us without us even knowing what happened. We had to borrow a phone to call our dad internationally to tell him we were freaking out because no one would take us home from school. They also policed us so much that we weren’t able to have friends over, go over to friends, hang out, or anything like that. So we were fully alone. We did nothing. I couldn’t intercept that problem and appease my mom there since it was a private text. That’s when it really solidified that if I did not sacrifice myself to be her emotional punching bag, no one else would. And we would all be in hell.

It’s so hard for me to advocate for myself. All it takes is a moment for me to remember my burden as a child. And it all comes rushing back.

It weirdly felt like spite, or anger as a result of a challenge. All I hear in my head is someone looking down on me, and all I see is a reason to prove myself. Give it a week, a month, or a year and you’ll be reminded why things are the way they are.

I think I’m in a comfortable enough place to have the freedom to step away freely. My current plan of action is to stop putting in the extra effort I typically do and see if any initiative comes from them. If not then it is what it is – I think everything is much more tolerable if I properly regulate my expectations mentally for what the friendship is.

I’m incredibly thankful for the consistent friends I have, I just got off playing games with some friends and I also got to see a close friend again today in person. I like the feeling of people wanting to interact with me without me having to chase them down – I guess I’m thankful for everything as I now understand how important that is for me.

“The poison of loneliness and the gnawing envy of the unlonely had gone out of him, and his person was clean and sweet, and he knew it was. He dredged up an old hatred to test himself, and he found the hatred gone.”

I was reading East of Eden the other night, and I saw a problem that I struggle with. I wanted to know what John Steinbeck had in his omnipotence for writing this book, on what to do about it. I think this section answered that.

I think truly listening in all meanings of the word would fix it. I think if they could just understand, and acknowledge what happened all of the poison would go away.

I sent a text to my mom just now. My eyes are watering a bit. I don't think it was easy for her at all to put away her defenses and accept responsibility for what she did. Imagine hurting your children for years, and facing the consequences for that later. It took my mom's mom committing suicide to get her to change. She told me how they got in a fight, and because her mom was too stubborn she didn't tell my mom to come before she commit suicide. I don't know if I'll be able to forget seeing my mom cry while telling me how much bad her mom did to her. She didn't want to be the villain to us anymore, and she went out of her way to push for a conversation that must rip her apart. She begged me to tell her about the bad things she did from my point of view. Every thing I said was like a dagger in her heart. But she did it for me. She loved me enough to face that pain to make up for her shortcomings.

I don't know if E can do that in this stage of life. I almost pray they haven't had any reason to learn that yet. But I sure wish they did.

Hey. I'm not fully sure why I can't bring this up – I guess because I don't feel like it will change. I also don't think you would take this well, so here I am writing another post. I find it hard to write this down, as I'm setting myself up to look like an idiot again.

For a while, you treated me like a close friend. But also for a while you've treated me like an acquaintance. I don't know if this was because something was going on with you, but either way you never told me. You would do things and say things that would constantly make me feel insecure for thinking we were close. And whenever I would start to pull back to match that level, you would say something to make me think I was crazy and that we are close. It might be on me for giving so many chances, but at the end of the day I somehow constantly keep feeling like a friend that you are just stringing along.

I feel like there's a good chance that this is not something you intentionally do. You again said some very nice things that made me think that you value me as a friend. You also stayed in my apartment for a long time. But you still make it incredibly painful for me to bring up whenever you do something that hurts me. And on top of it, it is somehow always my burden to initiate that conversation. One of the only things that I've asked of you was to initiate a conversation like that. You never did, even after reminders.

I don't think you're a bad friend, but a lot of the times you'll do things that will hurt me or that are ignorant. But the problem is I can't bring up anything like that to you, and you never ask to check. I start to feel like shit whenever I think about you because all I can think about is the unresolved issues, that I have no place to put down.

I've said this several times, that anger is grief in a trench coat. The trench coat is coming off a little bit here. I wish you would step a little bit out of your world and do the things that are hard sometimes. You always blame yourself and are quick to jump to the conclusion that you are just a horrible person. I don't think you are. But I think that fear makes you avoid those difficult conversations. But that just puts the pain onto other people. I wish you were able to face what I have to say.

From what I remember of the myth, when Pandora closed the box the only thing that she kept trapped was Hope.

We finally saw each other in person yesterday, but they didn't bring up or acknowledge anything about the conversation that we had put on pause. I don't think anything will change there, I don't think they're willing to.

The birthday present was a blow to the gut, and the confirmation messages after was the second punch. I honestly feel like an idiot for having hope, they mentioned that it was something related to my blog but I don't think they looked at it at all. I put a link in the coded post two before this to something I wrote before my birthday – I think if they had seen that they might have thought twice about it.

I find myself constantly thinking about analogies on why it hurts, but I have to remind myself that I don't think it matters. They aren't going to ask why I was upset, they don't read this anyway, and I don't think I have it in me to bring this up to them anymore. I honestly feel like shit because I keep thinking about how much of a fool I've been. I gave a lot of benefit of the doubt. I don't really think I was wrong anymore. The gift kind of felt like a slap in the face – mocking me for thinking we were close all this time.

Fucking hurts. But I think it would hurt a lot more if I keep valuing them the way I do. For my own sake I'm going to put time and effort into other friends. Nothing changes, I get why people believe that.

I was right

R wlm'g ivzoob pmld dszg vohv gl hzb. R gsrmp gszg R'n rm xlmgilo lu sld R ivhklmw gl gsrh uvvormt, yfg zg gsv vmw lu gsv wzb, R uvvo sloold zugvi ivxvrermt Vhnv'h yrigswzb kivhvmg.

Hsv tlg nv z szmwnzwv hgznk kzw(?), z gsrxp kzkvi drgs rg hgznkvw lm, z hsrig gszg hzbh “Prmpb rh fhrmt gsv uvzgsvi, kvievigvw rh fhrmt gsv dslov xsrxpvm”, z slg wlt ovtl nrmrurtfiv pvbxszrm, zmw z hlfevmrvi pvbxszrm lu gsv hgzgfv lu z prw kvvrmt uiln yifhhvoh.

Gsv urihg gsrmt R hzd dsvm R lkvmvw rg dzh gsv hgznkvw kzkvi, zmw R tlg hgfmmvw uli z orggov yrg. Gsv wizdrmt dzh z ivxivzgrlm lu gsv wizdrmt hsv wrw lm gsv sllwrv R tlg ozhg bvzi uli zoo nb uirvmwh gl kfg hlnvgsrmt lmgl. Rg dzh z wizdrmt lu gsv yfggviuob tilev dsvm dv dvmg lm z dzop gltvgsvi lmv grnv. Hsv zohl kfg gsv gvcg “Rg dzh z tllw wzb” fmwvimvzgs. Gszg dzh gsv mznv lu z klvn hsv hvmg nv z olmt grnv ztl, zmw R'ev szw z hvxgrlm lu rg zh nb wrhxliw yrl hrmxv gsvm.

R wrwm'g ivzoob uvvo hvvm. Gsv hsrig hsv tlg wlvhm'g ivozgv gl nv zg zoo, gsv ovtl nrmrurtfiv R gsrmp rh yvxzfhv levi gsv hfnnvi zg gsv hfnnvi xznk R dvmg yb gsv mznv Slgwlt, zmw R nrtsg szev nvmgrlmvw dsvm hsv wrw gsv wizdrmt zylfg sld xllo rg dzh zmw R drhs R xlfow tvg rg kirmgvw. Lyerlfhob R'n mlg fkhvg gszg hsv hslfow szev fmwvihgllw vczxgob dszg R nvzmg li zmbgsrmt orpv gszg – yfg nliv zoo lu gsvhv kivhvmgh uvog orpv mlmv lu gsvn dviv NV. Gsv xolhvhg gsrmt dzh gsv hgznk, yfg urihg lu zoo – dszg xzm R klhhryob wl drgs z hgznk? Zoo R szev rh z gsrxp krvxv lu hlnv zig nvwrfn, ml rmp, ml kzkvi gl kfg rg lm, li zmbgsrmt orpv gszg. R qfhg szev gsv hgznk nlow, dsrxs rh ivevihvw zmw fhvw. R zohl szev gsv ivhfog lm z krvxv lu gsrxp kzkvi gszg'h qzttvw zg gsv vwtvh zmw prmwz hnvooh yzw. Dszg zn R hfkklhvw gl wl drgs gszg. R prmwz uvvo orpv hsv dzh nliv “Ls gsrh dlfow yv z ufm kilqvxg, zmw z xllo zig rwvz” zmw hsv nzwv svi ldm wizdrmt. Rg dzhm'g vevm hlnvgsrmt ivzoob kvihlmzo gl nv. Rg dzh hlnvgsrmt hsv wivd uiln z krxgfiv hsv gllp lm z dzop dv dvmg lm. Orpv R tvg gszg R dzh kzig lu gszg dzop, yfg gszg dzhm'g ivozgvw gl nv. Rg dzh nliv svi.

R ivnvnyvi z dsrov ztl R dilgv wldm R dlfow yv kivggb fkhvg ru hsv tzev nv z krvxv lu zig, zh gszg dlfow yv nliv svi gszm nv.

https://biggergig.com/i-had-a-parking-spot-right-in-front-of-the-store

R gslftsg R szw vevm vmxlwvw rg, yfg R wrwm'g. Kozrm vmtorhs. R'n slmvhgob nliv hzw gszg gsvb nzwv gsrh rmhgvzw lu z wizdrmt lu nv li Szhs li zmbgsrmt orpv gszg. Rmhgvzw lu vevm wlrmt gszg, gsvb yzhrxzoob qfhg nzwv zm zig krvxv uli ufm, zmw tzev nv gsv krvxvh zg gsv vmw. Mlg vevm hgfuu gl yv zyov gl fhv rg.

R uvvo fmtizgvufo, yfg zg gsv hznv grnv R gsrmp R dlfow szev vmqlbvw hlnvgsrmt orpv z trug xziw gl z ufxprmt xizxpvi yziivo nliv. Nzbyv mlg, nzbyv R'n vcztviizgrmt – yfg rg wvurmrgvob uvvoh orpv gsvb wrw hlnvgsrmt gsvb dzmgvw gl wl, mlg hlnvgsrmt R dlfow szev dzmgvw. Gsv ufxp zn R hfkklhvw gl wl drgs z ifyyvi hgznk kzw lu gsvri wizdrmt. Gsvb yzhrxzoob zhhvnyovw z ovtl slfhv, tofvw rg zoo gltvgsvi, zmw tzev nv gsv slfhv zmw dvmg :W slfhv!

R prmwz qfhg uvvo orpv xibrmt mld. R tfvhh R uvvo orpv xibrmt yvxzfhv lu zoo gsv dzhgvw grnv zmw sfig zmw olev yvxzfhv lu sld R gslftsg gsrh kvihlm dzh z olg xolhvi gszm gsvb dviv. R gsrmp dv'iv hfiuzxv ovevo uirvmwh. R drhs R xlfow hglk gvcgrmt svi, R gsrmp R mvvw hlnvlmv vohv gl hzgrhub gsv hznv mrxsvh hl R wlm'g szev gl mlg hzb xvigzrm gsrmth zh lkklhvw gl hvmwrmt svi rg.

Lmv gsrmt gszg tlg nb slkvh fk zmw xizhsvw rg dzh sld dsvm R urihg hzd rg, R tlg hgfmmvw yvxzfhv gsv xzkgrlm fmwvi “Rg dzh z tllw wzb”. R gslftsg hsv nvzmg gszg hsv vmqlbvw gszg wzb gltvgsvi. Gszg nzpvh nv dzmg gl xib uiln uvvormt szkkb. Hsv pmldh R hgifttov z olg drgs uvvormt olevw, li gszg kvlkov dzmg gl zxgfzoob yv zilfmw nv. Ru hsv szw nvzmg gszg, rg dlfow szev uvog orpv hsv gslftsg zylfg gsv gsrmth R'ev xlmuvhhvw, zmw gslftsg zylfg hlnvgsrmt R dlfow ezofv. Yfg rmhgvzw rg dzh gsv mznv lu gsv klvn hsv hvmg nv z olmt grnv ztl. R orpv gsv klvn, yfg rg'h zohl svi mlg nv. Gsrh zoo uvog hl rmxivwryob rnkvihlmzo. Dsb gsv ufxp dlfow R dzmg z ovtl nrmrurtfiv lu z slgwlt nzm? R wrwm'g vmqlb gsrh hfnnvi, R wlm'g dzmg gl yv ivnrmwvw lu rg. R wlm'g orpv ovtl urtfivh. Gsrh hsrig rh mlg nv vrgsvi. R wlm'g urmw rg ufmmb. Gsrh uvog dlihv gszm dszg R vckvxgvw, zmw tlw R szw old vckvxgzgrlmh tlrmt rmgl gsrh.