people don’t usually understand me and while it’s incredibly isolating, i don’t want my friends to understand some of these things. I’d like Someone who gets it, but i think that’s best found in someone who already has those similar experiences, i don’t want anyone to become like me who isn’t already.
And I’ve spent the past few days (on the conservative side of that estimate) thinking about this and we’ve found ourselves at a point where i’m quoting a play that i’m quite frankly too harsh on; “I have actually asked to be hospitalized so i could be with other nuts. But the doctors don’t want to. They can’t diagnose me. That makes me even more isolated. (There is a moment of silence.) You see, right now, it’s an awful moment because you don’t know what to say or do. If i were with other people who [are like me], they would say ‘‘Oh yeah. Sure. It’s awful. Those dummies, they don’t see anything.’’ ”
People often try to equate their experiences to mine, or at a minimum compare them. They go “yeah, I’ve had a similar thing” and then often proceed to describe something completely different. And when I say “well that’s not the same because xyz” they go “i know it’s not the same, but it’s similar.” And it isn’t. It really isn’t so much of the time. And I don’t want to go “no i’m a special snowflake and no one understands me” but I’ve surrounded myself with people who have had deeply different experiences of the world than i have, and while some of them share with me a handful of similar issues, most larger things simply do not compare in the slightest.
My friends will never truly understand what my specific life experiences have done to me, and that gap in understanding grows greater each time someone says “I understand what you’re going through” when they haven’t listened to the whole story. Or usually; even a notable portion of it.
Now going “that makes no sense and i don’t get you and no one will ever understand you and i’m not even going to try” isn’t the solution either, some have tried that approach, but no one seems to do the one thing i have continuously begged people to do: just listen. They either speak over me to assert their claimed understanding of the subject from the start, or they ignore me and deem me incomprehensible the moment i speak. And both of these groups are quick to claim they hold no similarities. They are both certain that they are deeply, innately different from each other. Yet both do the same thing; both refuse to listen. It reminds me of that one thing about how both a communist and a capitalist argue over whose ideologies are better, yet neither take out the trash. Are you all that different - let alone better - if your actions are the same as the people you speak against?
I’m asking too much. Clearly I am asking too much or it wouldn’t be such a recurrent problem. People once in a while do ask “do you want to talk about it” but the issue is that to them, this just means “you can say whatever you want in my messages, i may respond with up to four words within one business week.” They don’t get that i’m not looking for somewhere to go on a rant - i do a mighty fine job of finding that myself. The location doesn’t matter if no one’s listening either way. Does it matter if it’s in an inbox or long post or journal or draft of a play if no one is reading it? Does it matter whether it’s directly said to someone if the most it will get is a glance and maybe a half moment’s consideration?
They don’t seem to get is that what i want is for someone to care. And caring is a verb, not an adjective. Caring is a choice, caring is actionable. Caring means doing SOMETHING. I want them to ask questions. I want them to truly consider what they would do in my position. I hate when people go “i have no clue what I would do if i was in your position” because to me, all that means is that they aren’t considering it deeply enough. No one seems to understand that for me, in my own issue, not making a choice isn’t an option. So if you were in my position, you would have to make a choice. There is no abstaining. So consider again when you want to say this, if refusing to make a choice simply isn’t an option, what would you do? “I don’t know” is a refusal to truly consider it. It’s apathetic. If you care about me as you claim, try the fuck again.
maybe you wouldn’t make a choice confidently, I very much am not much of the time. Even if your hypothetical choice comes with the precaution of “but i wouldn’t feel good about it” that would be far more helpful than “i don’t know.”
I know my friends don’t understand me. I’m well past expecting them to. But what I want is for someone to try for once. I want someone to say “I’m here with you through this, I am thinking about your issue when we’re not directly talking about it because i consider it my issue too. I want to figure this out as well. I want to be there. I want to help you.”
Sometimes, that means saying “i don’t know what you’re going through, could you tell me more about it?” and asking for more details in specific ways, and not just expecting me to cover everything to which you give a monosyllabic response. I want people to engage. I do it for them all the time, why won’t they do it for me? Why are they adamant to lean on me and then leave when i ask the same - when they offer the same? I pull through for them all the time. They tell me how easy it is to talk to me, they thank me for being there, they say they want to do the same. So why is another roofing tile hitting the floor? Where’s the beam they said they would lay? They promised. They promised.
I know they all have their own things going on, this is about the collective, not the individual. This is the community. This is all the people put together who are okay watching me slip through the cracks, or maybe think too much of all the others. Maybe they expect someone else to pick up the slack.
I have to hold them to a different standard than i hold myself, because I’m not sure I’d be here writing this otherwise. When I say “I know they have things going on themselves” I have to append that with “but so do I. So do I and I’m there for them. I still pull through for them.” And I have to accept this, somehow. “I don’t understand your situation, I’ve no clue” appended with “And I don’t know yours, but I try. I ask questions. I stay engaged. I consider it deeply and wholly. I give my thoughts. And I am there. I am there. I am always there when i can be.” And maybe they can’t be there. But surely, surely they could be there some of the time. Surely some of the time it would have to not be the utmost inconvenient.
And I know I do the opposite to the extreme, i know i’m not the healthiest either. I let them push boundaries, because even when i set them they are rarely respected and often forgotten (although sometimes blatantly ignored, those I am a little more forceful about). I’ve very few triggers, and most i don’t say anything about, but no one ever takes into account the handful i’ve explicitly expressed.
They don’t get my triggers. Because I always “look fine.” I internalise everything extremely well most of the time. I can keep the same affect if i so desire 99% of the time. They don’t notice when something they say or do launches me into a panic attack or leaves me overstimulated or fucks with any number of my issues. And I don’t want to make them feel bad - I’ve been accused of trying to do as such many a time - and if they’ve already done it,,,, what’s the point in bringing it up? They won't remember. They never do. Or maybe they just don’t care. I’ll just make them feel bad in the moment, then they’ll forget, do it again, and if i bring it up - again - they’ll feel worse. In these scenarios i don’t have a choice to not feel bad, but i do have the choice to not make them feel bad. We don’t both have to suffer, i can suffer alone.
They’ve always been perfectly content with me suffering alone. Why change now?
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a slight continuation of this
no caller ID pops on your screen, pulling your attention away from your previous task at hand: not fucking up your eyeliner. you typically wouldn’t care if it was a little uneven, but you’re going on a date tonight, for the first time in so long, and you want everything to go as smoothly as possible.
which is why you groan when you end the call, and that same no caller ID pops right back up seconds later. you know who it is—who else would it be? you figured he’s already seen your story of being excited for going on your first date in a while, on the only app you hadn’t blocked him on. petty? perhaps, but it’s on him to be keeping up with you despite you cursing him out for wasting your time and then blocking him right after.
you watch it ring though, contemplating for a while longer than you should. you blocked him for a reason. no need to entertain his same shit that he always spews to you when he realizes that he might be losing you once more?
….but it doesn’t hurt to hear the hero beg for you.
“What do you want, Bakugou?” You sigh irritably as you finally answer his call, putting him on speaker as you go back to even out your eyeliner. You hear him huff on the other side of the phone at the use of his surname, but he doesn’t say anything about it, instead, quickly telling you what he’s been bothering you for.
“Who’s the fuckin’ loser that’s gonna drool over how good your tits look in that stupid green dress you love so much?” Bakugou grunts, and you instantly feel your face heating at his crude words. You glance over with a frown at that same green dress that makes your tits look good, where it hangs on your closet.
“None of your damn business, Bakugou.” You snap at him, wondering if it’s too late to find something else to wear. “Not like you ever took me out in my stupid green dress.” Your voice holds a level of bitterness that only he can bring out of you, and you hear his sigh through the speakers.
“I told you this before, I’m always—”
“Busy.” You cut him off, voice suddenly thick as you think back on the countless rejections he’s splattered at your feet every time you tried to further your relationship with him. “You reminded me of how busy you’ve been since you first started this whole situationship.”
“Situation—? Huh? We were dating!” Bakugou protests with a huff, and you can hear how he paces the floor quickly. You glare at your phone, setting down your liner to instead pick of your (his) favorite lipgloss.
“You’d have to ask me out to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to court me to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to make time for me and take me out on dates and not hide me to fucking date me, Bakugou.” You spit at him, venom dripping off of your lips in waves. You don’t know why you answered, why you even entertained him. You shake your head with a huff when the line goes quiet, eyebrows quirking up when your date sends you a text to make sure you’re still on for tonight.
“I’m sorry.” Bakugou mutters pathetically, his voice suddenly soft. You hesitate, for some reason, when it comes to texting your date back. Why do you always hesitate when Bakugou is around?
“Let me make it up to you, court you, and shit. I can take you to one of my favorite places, you can wear that pretty green dress and that gloss you know I love.” His voice is pleading, thickening and sweet and suffocating. You shouldn’t respond, should reply back a yes to your date.
“Please? You know how much you mean to me.” Bakugou mumbles, and you can hear the earnestness in his voice. Why haven’t you said yes to your date yet?
“I’ll do better this time. Just one more chance, sweetheart.” Bakugou’s voice is so soft, you’ve never heard him this vulnerable before. You sigh with a shake of your head, slumping back into your seat in defeat.
…
Sorry, I can’t make it tonight. Something came up. Maybe we can reschedule for another time?
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