Starting over
I haven’t blogged in a long while. My longest streak was with WordPress, but I find myself liking Bearblog’s simplicity and freedom of customization much more. (The former’s word editor was clunky and a lot slower). Plus, the community in here seems active as well.
So now, I am starting over. I’m most likely going to be talking about my mental health here if we’re going to consider how my previous blog went.
What’s been going on?
Oh god, where do I start? I had no choice but to cut off a friend group that turned toxic a few months ago- give or take. The exact number eludes me now.
They seem to have been building up resentment against me, and it led them to judge my character—exaggerating the negatives, erasing the positives, and refusing to even acknowledge that they had their own faults in the situation. When I bring up a concern, tell them how I was hurt, or they dismiss it by saying that my source(s) are invalid because they lack context, that or I / my source(s) are biased.
They have made a very hostile environment for me and I’m inclined to believe that they feel justified to do so because I’m “the problematic one” in their eyes and they can be harsh as needed to “fix me”. On the other hand, if I criticize them they see it as retaliation because I’m, again, “the problematic one”.
Hell, my therapist at the time said that the dynamic I had with them was toxic and they were picking on me because they don’t extend the same courtesy they expect to be treated with when they get upset.
She, along with my other, saner friends — bless them — had to convince me to cut them all off.
Needless to say, they haven’t given me any reason to come back. I suppose you could say I’m starting over on more than one thing.
So, what now?
The entire situation went on for months, and I had to lose several spaces we shared because merely being in their presence brings tension.
So I ended up becoming isolated. (Great).
A part of me died that night. I could no longer recognize the person I used to be when I was with them. (They wanted me to change— Great news! I sure have). At the very least, I could find peace in the fact that the old me’s death was less of a suicide and more of a mercy kill.
I feel damaged, but I wouldn’t heal if I had stayed. I could liken it to extracting a rotten tooth.
I’ve managed to get involved in new spaces and talk to new people. (Even though it’s not the same, it still beats the alternative of lying belly up and taking on emotional abuse. And yes, dear reader, even on the generous interpretation that my ex-friends meant well, their actions still count as such).
As I’m left picking up the pieces that broke in me, there have also been some…concerning new mental health symptoms that have been popping up. I might talk about it in another, separate post if I still feel like it. Stay tuned.