But I am always forgetting that this site even exists. It's the only site that I even publish my short stories, with the exception of the blogspot where I post some poems...
Since the last post, a lot has happened but I rather not go through all that. Maybe I should just make a quick bullet list:
-Jennifer and I no longer talk or write to each other. Sad, I know, but she never sent me an address back and from what I could tell from her Facebook (which she has eventually gotten access to again), she has another person in mind. Oh well. Moving on...
-Being assistant director of anything is hard work with little recognition. You don't get paid in this position and many times, it's the executive director who is shown in the spotlight while the AD just sits back and claps along with the audience. However, after a shitty week of thinking through whether I wanted to keep going, I decided that it's something that I rather stay with.
-Junior year so far has been alright. I seriously need to go see my therapist again (who has yet to contact me back) because I've been having a rough time lately. Not with classes, but I've been dealing with triggers and depression-filled nights.
On top of that whole list, I've been pretty bitchy lately. Recently had a tell a guy to fuck off bc even though he wanted to be friends with me, every time we would chat, he would bring up some triggering information.
See here's the story.
So this guy named Kalan from my school thought it would be nice to be friends with me. I am not against being friends with straight guys so I was nice to him. He, out of nowhere, started to give me his life story about how he grew up with an overprotective mother and in poverty and how now he is dealing with depression. I tried to be the supportive friend by trying to be the good listener and even mentioned to him before that I struggle myself. He completely dismissed that and every now and then, would dismiss my efforts of trying to give him uplifting thoughts and support by saying "Elizabeth, you don't know what it's like to be depressed. I grew up poor, etc etc."
Now I am not the kind to spill my whole story of struggling with poverty, depression, AND abuse (especially not with people I BARELY know), but eventually I snapped at him and told him that I wasn't his therapist and I no longer wanted to talk about this stuff because of how uncomfortable it makes me feel (really, it was bringing back awful feelings, flashbacks, and my depression was getting in on this). I mentioned that I tried to be strong and supportive, but in the end, I was not his therapist so I suggested that he would just stop talking to me. He felt sorry and decided not to bother me anymore.
Until an hour later when he decided that he really wants to be my friend so he begged for forgiveness and I forgave him. He said that he would now be happy to talk about other stuff... but again, in every conversation he would bring up something about his life again. (I once mentioned that I was made fun of for being a chubby kid when I was younger and he was like "poverty basically made me skinny" and I thought, "well wow, it's not like I was chubby because i ate a lot since my family of 7 was poor too")
So I began trying to ignore him and his messages. (This was all in facebook and text) and recently, he texted me thanking me for being there... which i thought was a nice change for once. I texted him back saying 'no problem' and all of a sudden, he mentioned "i have to tell you something, i tried to overdose a year ago, a week before my birthday."
Why the fuck did he decide to just bring that up? I didn't even know this guy then.
So I began to be a bit more apathetic... how many pills? which kind?
4? Wow, that's such an awkward number...
I asked him, did you really wanted to end it then? 4 seems contemplative.
He said, i guess i wasn;t sure.
I said, what kept you from getting a gun instead?
He said, i would have if i had one. there's no way you could get a gun here.
Me: were you actively searching for one? not too hard to get one with little gun control you know? have you heard of our shootings here at USC?
He kept asking me how to get them.
I said, look, i know it's easy because people in Compton got them. my dad had three when i was a kid and i know that if i really wanted one, i could easily get one but i won't tell you because i don't want to be your accomplice.
we eventually got into a debate about gun control, me being against gun control. personally, i just really don't think guns kill people... people kill people and to have guns, our right to bear arms, taken away would be shit. maybe i don't trust police officers to do their job well enough (not because they can't but because they wont; and yes, there are officers like that)
but then eventually i got fed up with him completely because even in the debate, he would talk about how he would have sleepness nights without guns going off where he's from. so i blurted out, "in compton, there was never a quiet night. if it wasn't guns, it was a helicopter; we had school wide lockdowns from elementary to high school and it's nothing surprising to see or hear about someone getting shot. but whatever, i'm through with this and talking to you."
he didn't get it so i went on.. "it's just not about this debate, it's about our conversations in whole... like talking about suicide last night... wtf bro? that whole convo was a joke... you keep bring up triggering shit and i am tired of it."
he texted me, trying to sound all self-righteous and said that if it bothered me so much, why didn't i tell him before that it never made me comfortable.
so that's when i really blew up.
exact text:
if you've been paying attention, i've tried to give you positive outlooks and change the subject but you would continue to bring up or mention something triggering. you're not the only one with depression, poverty, or abuse issues and i've tried to stay strong bc i hate talking about my own struggles with people that i don't know. but again, you've dismissed my efforts and i already told you once that i am not your fuckin therapist so that was your first fuckin warning and if you don't remember that shit, then fuck off and i don't ever want to deal with you again... im through with being triggered. good bye, don't even respond.
he texted back against my wishes and again with his self-righteous self: im sorry our friendship had to end because of my self-pity and vain and i hope to learn from this. i wish you all the best, ms. soriano.
Then i texted back: fuck off. i said, don't even respond.
So yeah, i'm still a bit unstable but that's why i need to see a therapist soon.
but i am trying... and right now, being angry helps.
Not registered?
Create an account