Her Charmed Life

Well, Well, Well. Look who has finally made her appearance. I thought all the therapy and late night wine talks with friends had gotten rid of her. Nope. I was wrong and probably a little delusional. The Rage Demon that lives in my belly has returned. Fair warning to anyone who reads this, she is such a cunt.

Telling the truth is hard. For most people, if not everyone I think. It takes courage and grit to stare someone in the eyes and say the, sometimes harsh or hurtful, truth. It’s exposing. Your soul is bared- just a little. It’s giving someone the power to hurt that pin hole of a naked soul. It’s so much for someone to do. There’s so many emotions wrapped up in simply stating the truth. It’s scary and difficult and intense. That being said, let’s not get it fucking twisted. It’s basic goddamn respect. I hate when someone lies. It sinks the opinion I have of them so low that they might as well set up camp in the Hellscape they created. Whatever the dishonesty is, a little untruth to spare someone’s feelings to a crushing hidden secret that wrecks lives. If you have the gall to lie to my face about something trivial, how am I to rely on you with something more?

So last night I went out with Sabrina and James, and someone else from work. I’m going to call him Ken for this blog, why? Because he’s a basic fucking bitch. Plastic, fake, boxed in and a total scam. He’s clearance rack. Now, Ken was one of the first friends I made when I moved to Ohio a few years ago. My 25th birthday, the Destin beach trip I wrote about? He was invited, he paid, he got the plane ticket, and he literally flaked on us the day before we left. So that’s Ken’s backstory. Anyways, all of us went out last night, planning to drink and have a good time. Well James had already drunk a whole bottle of wine plus a few shots before we even met up. He was hammered. We all were out for maybe an hour or two before Sabrina had to take James home. So we all Ubered back to hers with plans of hanging out there but Sabrina ended up being tired (probably of James haha). I was too drunk to drive and my ride was 20 minutes away so Ken was going to wait with me until I got in the car safely. I was ready to keep the night going, we had been planning this all week and I was excited to destress from work. SO I asked Ken and he agreed to go to another bar closer to home with me. We got a few more drinks, I was pretty drunk but not incoherent. I knew what was happening and all that. We were drinking and talking, he was asking me for a lot of advice. I didn’t really want the night to head in that direction but it’s where he was taking us. I have such a hard time saying no to my friends when they need help, even if I know I should. So the night went on and the drinks flowed.

At this point in the story, you should know I met someone. (Yes another someone, Lover Girl, remember?) He’s different, not in the sappy “I can fix him” way but in the “he actually gets it” way. I’m looking forward to going out with him once our lives calm down a little. Nothing is official or anything like that but I do feel a bit of an obligation to tell him about certain things. It’s respect, you know?

This someone I mentioned was texting me, I had been drunkenly flirting with him all night. I wanted to talk to him but also get away from the heaviness of Ken and his emotions. I went outside and we chatted on the phone for a little. It was nice. I really like him. He was going to bed so I went back inside. Soon after last call was called, and Ken seemed… weird. We were talking about some pretty heavy topics for him so I was thinking he just needed some time to digest all that I had told him. He was literally begging me to help him. I should have just said no but he’s my friend. I didn’t know what to do. We ended up outside while he smoked, we talked about what to do next. I wanted to stay with him because I felt like he needed me, like he shouldn’t be alone. It was really weird. I wanted to go but I just… didn’t. So I said Ken could sleep on my couch if he wanted. We got back to my apartment and the mood immediately changed. It was like whiplash, like someone blowing out a candle. Something I didn’t expect from him at all. I think if I told anyone this, even Sabrina, they would think I’m lying. He suddenly didn’t want to just drink and watch TV and talk. Maybe that’s just me being naive and stupid.

I am and always have been a very upfront and blunt person. I’ve been called a bitch, I’ve been called cold and callous and I’ll be called worse, I’m sure. But I’m reliable, I’ll never back out and you can always trust me with whatever you need too. I’m fucking honest, I will be the first peron to tell you that I’ve been the hurtful kind of honest. The down right nasty kind of honest. I’ve used honesty to hurt people as deeply as I was hurt. As I have grown (and literally felt my frontal lobe develop like some kind of rude spiritual awakening), I figured out how to use honesty as a tool to help and protect- to wield it humbly and with grace. I know how to be honest and give that honesty to others gently, kindly.

In all my relationships, I ask for the same level of respect and honesty in return. I’m a pretty intense person when we get into it and I know it can be intimidating to people. I understand that, I really do. But I…don’t care. I still expect you to be honest with me. I can handle whatever you throw at me and I will help you figure it out. We can get through whatever the situation is, as long as you tell me the fucking truth. I felt so betrayed last night. It’s kind of silly. I’m thinking… What else did you think he wanted? But Ken? The token nice guy at work? Ken would never. Well Ken fucking did so here we are.

Am I in the wrong? Am I the one with the problem and I’m just blind to it? I’ve done so much work on this. I know that I’m doing okay. Hour and hour spent in a small office, with someone telling me what’s healthy and what’s not. The noise machine, the light bar, the vibrations in my hand, the grounding of my feet on the floor. That was real and I’m not confused. It’s wrong to use people, and it’s wrong to manipulate people with half truths and veiled promises.
I feel like this kind of thing always happens to me. I’m too trusting, too open, too much. The boundaries I hold are shaky at best. I’ll never beat this gaslighting and manipulation shit. It’s like some great beast. The Kraken, pulling me deeper into the ocean. I can never escape this. (I’m so dramatic, chuckle chuckle).