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Emotional Support : "Water Under the Bridge"
When one is losing their mind, they try to touch base with anything from the 'sane' world. However, how is that possible if I'm too busy driving those people away?
I have a really kind hearted friend, and I don't mean this in a general manner that one would describe any friend of theirs. I mean, as a person, she is truly kind hearted and generous with everyone. She lives her life in a way where she does as little harm as possible to others. Her generosity is outstanding. She is also an over-achiever, high marks in her studies etc, not exactly the kind of people I am known to hang out with, I guess. Anyway, she is my friend. I respect her, and I trust her. Yet, in one brief moment, I lost sight of myself and thought ill of her. I took verbal action, and it took a while for my true mind to see what my body had been saying. Sluggishly, it cross referenced my current picture of her with her history with me, and knew something was off. The tension was uncomfortable, and I felt myself torn between two images of my friend. I was being uncertain and defensive with her. My friend said very little and just stayed with me. We were in a dungeon in a game at the time, and she could have left, but she didn't. She took the high ground and made the most of it.
At the end, after accepting that I may have gone too far, I tried to lighten things up. It seemed we we're okay, but the rest of the night and following day were brutal for me. I locked myself away from everyone and mentally beat myself up for it. I wanted to cry out of sheer frustration, but I simply couldn't. It was as if my brain needed certain signals to fire the 'cry' action, but it wasn't getting all of them. So while my chest, lungs and heart were heaving and patting as if I were crying, my tears and half my mind were on pause - still waiting for someone to fire the "go" sign to cry. It's hard to describe such an incomplete act of emotion. Emotions which I use to carry as a strength were now my enemy. It was like having your army turn against themselves.
I wrote my friend a long apology, then I deleted it. There was no point in me drawing her into my confused state of being, so I just sent her amusing pictures instead. Anyone who knows me, knows I'm long winded. So when I write anything short, something is wrong. Key sign. When I explained that I did have an apology letter if she wanted it, she said something that touched my heart; something to the effect of, "It can stay in the trash. It's water under the bridge. I hope you didn't injure yourself writing it."
I have Repetitive Stress Injury (RSI), which means, too much typing injures me and I can't use my arms for a few days. Even after I got upset, she was still more worried about me. Water under the bridge. I never had a friend say that before. Everyone always required "proof" of friendship, "proof" of apology, "proof" to show you understood your mistake and were genuinely sorry, "proof" of this or that. That's why I always had proof! Everyone online who has truly gotten to know me, knows I record it all! If I feel I am ever standing on uneven ground, I will have proof of the conversation or act. Something I can take to authorities or shove in your face about something you later LIED about. In 5th grade, I learned friendships, no matter how noble, can be twisted in favor of the person spinning or recalling the story. That's why I always have proof. Apologies weren't real unless they were written; but this girl didn't want proof. She didn't want to 'make sure' that I had struggled. She had no interest in finding out whether or not I knew my error and recounted every brazen moment of what I was apologizing for. She didn't want to make me suffer for her pride - which she had every RIGHT to, in my opinion. I struggled with that latter. Struggled to explain every confusing thing and why it happened, why my mind went and turned her into the enemy. I was genuinely sorry even though I knew I was not myself when i did the act. I still considered myself to be guilty. Yet, to be pardoned with such kindness.. well shit. I think my heart broke a little. Jaded after feeling so much hurt from others, I closed up parts of my heart to make sure I could recover from any attack. Then someone walks into my life and actually knows what true friendship is suppose to be. I felt ashamed for not being stronger, for not being able to put my heart out there more often and tolerate possible abuse from false friends, but I also felt pride. I managed to keep a friend like her somehow. I must have done something good in our relationship, right?
All my life I wanted a friend like that, but knew they didn't exist. I abandoned my ideology of such a person and lived my life developing friendships in a false open hearted manner, concealing a section for my own private security team should any one of them betray or disappoint me. Perhaps I should say "when" they did. I generally have a lousy memory, except for when you hurt my heart. I will remember it even if I don't want to, and my heart's 'security team' writes a little report and files it away for use later. Sadly, I have had to use these tactics against others, but I do take pride in knowing that there were times where I could have really publicly tore someone to shreds with my evidence, but instead chose to spare them and leave quietly. Maybe this mercy is what rewards me now?
Water under the bridge. She saved me with these words.
[ Tip! ]
I now realize that when I'm losing myself, its important for my friends and loved ones to bring me back to earth. Remind me who you are and that you aren't here to hurt me. Something like that will give me pause. Hopefully enough pause to help me reconnect with myself again.
I am fortunate. I have always been told that I am too poor or too low in status to be picky about life - especially in partners and friendships. Heh. I'll have you know that those words spurned me on. I was determined to define my reality based on whom I let in it; and while my world's inhabitants may be low in number, the people I let in are truly amazing and noble individuals. This woman being one of them.
Thank you, God, for at last letting me have such a friend.
I have a really kind hearted friend, and I don't mean this in a general manner that one would describe any friend of theirs. I mean, as a person, she is truly kind hearted and generous with everyone. She lives her life in a way where she does as little harm as possible to others. Her generosity is outstanding. She is also an over-achiever, high marks in her studies etc, not exactly the kind of people I am known to hang out with, I guess. Anyway, she is my friend. I respect her, and I trust her. Yet, in one brief moment, I lost sight of myself and thought ill of her. I took verbal action, and it took a while for my true mind to see what my body had been saying. Sluggishly, it cross referenced my current picture of her with her history with me, and knew something was off. The tension was uncomfortable, and I felt myself torn between two images of my friend. I was being uncertain and defensive with her. My friend said very little and just stayed with me. We were in a dungeon in a game at the time, and she could have left, but she didn't. She took the high ground and made the most of it.
At the end, after accepting that I may have gone too far, I tried to lighten things up. It seemed we we're okay, but the rest of the night and following day were brutal for me. I locked myself away from everyone and mentally beat myself up for it. I wanted to cry out of sheer frustration, but I simply couldn't. It was as if my brain needed certain signals to fire the 'cry' action, but it wasn't getting all of them. So while my chest, lungs and heart were heaving and patting as if I were crying, my tears and half my mind were on pause - still waiting for someone to fire the "go" sign to cry. It's hard to describe such an incomplete act of emotion. Emotions which I use to carry as a strength were now my enemy. It was like having your army turn against themselves.
I wrote my friend a long apology, then I deleted it. There was no point in me drawing her into my confused state of being, so I just sent her amusing pictures instead. Anyone who knows me, knows I'm long winded. So when I write anything short, something is wrong. Key sign. When I explained that I did have an apology letter if she wanted it, she said something that touched my heart; something to the effect of, "It can stay in the trash. It's water under the bridge. I hope you didn't injure yourself writing it."
I have Repetitive Stress Injury (RSI), which means, too much typing injures me and I can't use my arms for a few days. Even after I got upset, she was still more worried about me. Water under the bridge. I never had a friend say that before. Everyone always required "proof" of friendship, "proof" of apology, "proof" to show you understood your mistake and were genuinely sorry, "proof" of this or that. That's why I always had proof! Everyone online who has truly gotten to know me, knows I record it all! If I feel I am ever standing on uneven ground, I will have proof of the conversation or act. Something I can take to authorities or shove in your face about something you later LIED about. In 5th grade, I learned friendships, no matter how noble, can be twisted in favor of the person spinning or recalling the story. That's why I always have proof. Apologies weren't real unless they were written; but this girl didn't want proof. She didn't want to 'make sure' that I had struggled. She had no interest in finding out whether or not I knew my error and recounted every brazen moment of what I was apologizing for. She didn't want to make me suffer for her pride - which she had every RIGHT to, in my opinion. I struggled with that latter. Struggled to explain every confusing thing and why it happened, why my mind went and turned her into the enemy. I was genuinely sorry even though I knew I was not myself when i did the act. I still considered myself to be guilty. Yet, to be pardoned with such kindness.. well shit. I think my heart broke a little. Jaded after feeling so much hurt from others, I closed up parts of my heart to make sure I could recover from any attack. Then someone walks into my life and actually knows what true friendship is suppose to be. I felt ashamed for not being stronger, for not being able to put my heart out there more often and tolerate possible abuse from false friends, but I also felt pride. I managed to keep a friend like her somehow. I must have done something good in our relationship, right?
All my life I wanted a friend like that, but knew they didn't exist. I abandoned my ideology of such a person and lived my life developing friendships in a false open hearted manner, concealing a section for my own private security team should any one of them betray or disappoint me. Perhaps I should say "when" they did. I generally have a lousy memory, except for when you hurt my heart. I will remember it even if I don't want to, and my heart's 'security team' writes a little report and files it away for use later. Sadly, I have had to use these tactics against others, but I do take pride in knowing that there were times where I could have really publicly tore someone to shreds with my evidence, but instead chose to spare them and leave quietly. Maybe this mercy is what rewards me now?
Water under the bridge. She saved me with these words.
[ Tip! ]
I now realize that when I'm losing myself, its important for my friends and loved ones to bring me back to earth. Remind me who you are and that you aren't here to hurt me. Something like that will give me pause. Hopefully enough pause to help me reconnect with myself again.
I am fortunate. I have always been told that I am too poor or too low in status to be picky about life - especially in partners and friendships. Heh. I'll have you know that those words spurned me on. I was determined to define my reality based on whom I let in it; and while my world's inhabitants may be low in number, the people I let in are truly amazing and noble individuals. This woman being one of them.
Thank you, God, for at last letting me have such a friend.