I'm broken. And breaking.
And lost and alone.
I'm hurt and hurting.
My inner 12 year old has come out and fucked me up good.
I'm pretty certain now that I'm unfriendable. I've just shoved away one of my last two friends. Didn't take much. A simple email. No more than 2 sentences. Five years of friendship: poof!
I'm apparently good at losing best girl friends.
Nancy I pushed away because that was all kinds of messed up.
Now Misty. (Updated to add: Or maybe not.)
I'm so amazing!
I'm fucked up. I think fucked up thoughts and do fucked up things. I'm barely hanging on from day to day. Right now I'm hoping the sleep test I'm going in for on Wednesday will have answers. Maybe I can stop being crazy if I can get more sleep. Or maybe crazy is just part of who I am. I can't seem to make new friends. I talk too much. I talk too little. I'm always too late. I have twins.
No one gets it. No one gets me. I'm not interesting enough. I'm not mainstream enough.
I can't write. I can't take pictures. I can barely parent.
I'm certain no one wants to be friends with me, so I'm not very surprised when they stop calling or writing. I feel like I'm chasing them down and asking them to play with me and then I stop doing it and then there's this big silence. No one calls. They're not going to. I can't make myself call because how many times can I ask the same question? When do you want to get together? When can we get together? When would you like to get together? Everyone always has to "check their calendars" and "get back to me". It's that second part that seems to slide and slide and slide.
I shouldn't be allowed near communication devices during the lowest parts of my days.
I shouldn't write about it.
No one actually cares.
Maybe one day I'll be friendable again. I just don't see it happening.
Maybe it's better this way. I'll disappoint fewer people.
I don't think my inner 12 year old will ever grow up and move out.