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Isn't it ironic?
It’s been a stretch of time since I’ve written and it was getting about that time again. I don’t talk to friends about myself because it would seem that every time that I have, I lose them. But it’s always great when I listen to them and what’s going on with them.
It’s been a hard 2 weeks for me. Many of those that know me know that I do online writing. I love writing. It’s the one thing that tends to keep sane in my boring life. Let me explain that first. Online writing via forums or chat rooms has always been a hobby of mine. The idea to slip away into another skin and be a character almost like in a movie, book, or tv show is just something that is enjoyable. I’ll never be a published author or anything, but it is something that I do to enjoy myself. I’ve never had any real hobbies outside of writing. Normally I could afford any. The nice thing about writing was it was mostly free. Even now it only costs about ten dollars a month to do. It’s usually enjoyed with others and while I enjoy forums, I’ve once more tried my hand at chat rooms even if that hasn’t been going so well.
So about 2 weeks ago, after having what I thought was a good conversation with a friend, she was busy convincing my ex to join the room. Apparently, she hadn’t told him I was there nor bothered to mention it to me. So, while I was in a pretty good mood, it was shot when I got up the next morning. The anxiety attacks returned and I had to settle myself that he was there. For the record, it was my Narcissist ex, the very one that lives for destroying me. Things seemed fine until he decided to message me about something about my profile. (Basically a full description of the character.) After blasting me forever and a day about assuming things about him, he decided that it was still okay for him to do it with me. Finally, after keeping myself neutral he went about his day. Then he mentioned something in the main screen about my “moving out” so I corrected him to “thrown out”. When I DM’d him that I hadn’t appreciated him saying that out in the open, he went on one of his tangents about how I better not step on his toes or else. All from my simply saying that I hadn’t appreciated something he had done.
Now it would seem that I’m going to be forced to write with him. I know he can’t stomach the thought of it. He makes it seem like his whole world is a shit sandwich and in some parallel universe it is somehow my fault. To be honest, I had nothing to do with it. Three failed relationships in 2 years would have me wondering if it was me. Hell, 22 yrs worth of 4 failed ones has me thinking it’s me. All the abuse and everything that happened, I still think it’s all me. I deserved it all because I was a horrible person. Perhaps take his advice and find a nice abusive guy to settle down with. As he said, it’s what I deserve. So now he’s going to be forced to write with me and I’ll have to tolerate his stupid threats again. I’ll say this though; I doubt very much that he’s going to bother. He was just trying to placate the others and likely he’ll just find ways out of it once more. Why? Because it makes him look good to say. What’s more ironic? This had nothing to do with me. I had wanted nothing to do with him, but said friend had insisted that he be involved. I’m sure that he thinks that I had something to do with this like some way to force him to write with me. Which I had tried to avoid as much as possible.
So, now I wonder if I should just take his advice. He had told me the best thing I could do was find a nice abusive guy to put me in my place. I never was remorseful enough for the one time I slapped him. I should have just known my damn place and let him have his affairs. That I’m this horrible person that destroys everything I touch. But around others he wants to be sympathetic and not mention things like that. He wants to pretend that he ever gave a damn. Of course, it is just to make him look good. What’s worse is that I had been doing so good. I had nearly gotten back on my feet and in these last 2 weeks he has once again managed to rip all that away and make me the monster. I can say that I’m glad that his lady managed to get out of things. I tip my hat to her. She even did it faster than any of us that came before. To hear him tell it though, he had nothing to do with it. He was perfect. Where did I hear that song and dance before? Oh. That’s right. He did it to me.
Even with my feet in my life getting under me once more, that I did it myself (something that I’m used to), that I’m almost to where I can breathe again does nothing. I don’t bother taking pride in that any more. I’ve done it all my life alone. I’ve never had anyone that bothered to be there to help me. It was always about what I can give. Give everything and get nothing but being the demon of the story. What’s the be all end all? When I’m on my feet and have some money, then I’ll be attractive again. Right now, I’m getting to where I need to be to survive. Though when I have money, I’m everyone’s favorite. Doesn’t matter then that I’m not a size 0. Doesn’t matter then that I’m a piece of shit. Doesn’t matter then that I’m “abusive”. All of that goes away because money’s nice. Until then, I get to be alone and isolated. Isn’t that great?