I’m sorry but how am I supposed to live this down? He said I was the worst friend he ever had. EVER. HAD.
Most of the bad things I’ve done weren’t intentional, and I had really hoped things I’d heard about him being sweet on me were real. Even if I find myself a monstrosity. I wanted them to be my family and in a sense they were. I need to sleep.
My best friend told me if she died life sucks anyway. I tried to tell her things will get better, but I don’t even believe it anymore. Life is bleak and you die alone.
The good news is my friend needs me to a degree, because she was really upset when I didn’t see a text when she needed moral support. The bad news is everyone I loved in this online friend group I had hates each other and I saw those people as my family. I feel completely alone.
It was 10 years ago today that my mother died. I only had one purpose in life and that was being her daughter. That morning I lost the only person who actually needed me. From that day on, I switched to survival mode. Ten years without a family and the knowledge that I only exist to take up space. It is what it is.
Everyone leaves or dies, or both. This year, the cousin who let me know I was disowned after Mom’s death, died. He lived to be almost 80. Did his conscience ever get to him? I’ll never know because I’m too much of a coward to contact his sister. I don’t want to be rejected again.
Also, this year, the last person who loved me unconditionally, died. Died in an accident with a drunk driver. I feel so guilty.
I can’t believe I’ve made it 10 years and am relatively independent. My life may have little meaning, but I’m still alive. I keep expecting worse things to happen, but I’ve always felt I was on the precipice of fate. One step forward and I could plummet.
Will I catch covid and die in a similar way to my mother? Will I step in front of a bus or will I just collapse one backday? Would anyone notice or care?
My friend is mad again because I didn’t notice a text. I sometimes wonder if she would miss me if I died or if she’d just find someone else. One thing I’ve learned is never to expect the same amount of compassion you give, and in one way or another, everyone leaves in the end.
The holy rollers at my primary school used to say that God strikes down useless people ( more or less) and that God only gives a few chances. It must not be true because I’m still breathing, useless or not. My mediocrity and lack of intelligence or beauty notwithstanding.
I took a nap and woke up disoriented. I asked myself where my mother was, where my friend was. I returned to reality. You’re safe. It’s ten years later.
My mother is dead. It’s not ten years ago. You’re not helpless and desperate anymore. Everyone’s dead or living far away.
I’m starting to wonder if the bites, rash, whatever is covid, kidney failure, fungal infection, cancer, MRSA, or staph. I doubt it’s cancer, MRSA or staph, but who knows. Isn’t MRSA more of a hospital disease? I think it might be fungal or an allergic reaction. Benadryl helps, but so does lotramin.
Everything is going straight to hell anyway. I feel like I’m about to be taken in front of a firing squad, shot, and no one will bury my carrion eaten body. I can’t stop the feeling of impending doom and being completely abandoned. Everything and everyone will die or go away. It’s inevitable. One moment everything is OK and then some Saudis knock your tower down, or a disease creeps up on you, or you say or do something unforgivable. But that’s just me. How are you?