but I’m growing quite wary of the type of person who tells their life story at the drop of a hat.
Sure, I used to be like that too. Everyone feels misunderstood at some stage and so you can end up going way too far to try and explain yourself. I get that; I really do.
I’m up for light-hearted chat as much as the next person, and I also know what an intense conversation is. I’m not a dumbass. I can spend a few minutes not making stupid jokes if something serious is going on and I can help. But what’s not-so-adult is when I get a case-study load of stuff that sounds made up and imperceptibly ages me slightly from a roommate’s acquaintance in the time needed for a bathroom break. I’m not naming names, but here’s the rundown: there were family troubles, violence, runaway phases, multiple suicide attempts, an evil older family member in particular who deserves ‘all the blame in the world’, having loose-lipped friends and a multi-faceted eating disorder.
I needed to sit down. She didn’t even tell me her name before any of this.
Do I come across as one who wouldn’t judge? Because I think that’s kinda fair enough, I like to think I’m approachable. And my life hasn’t exactly been a picnic either, so I must be showing sympathy. But that’s what sticks out: nobody’s life is spent completely in the sun. We all suffer to varying degrees and in subjective ways. Which gave way to… well, annoyance and a loss of patience. Ashamed to say it, but it’s true. The reason why is that with a few small changes (I’m talking names and locations) my story is very similar to hers.
I was a very intense child and I didn’t always know how to deal with it, and none of my family did either. We were surrounded by terrible people and it affected us all. We were thrown apart for a while, then back together, then apart again. Then come health scares for 4/5 of us (I counted my uncle because he deserves to be) to put our priorities straight. And with our clean bills of health, the team’s rolling together pretty fucking tight these days (with the exception of the little brother, but he’s got his own shit and we’re always here). Enough of that.
Perhaps what I’m trying to say is… Suffering is universal. And to pretend that it’s unique to you is deluded. People lose their sanity to self-pity and being in the right – well, if self-pity is so comforting, then why does it keep showing me the inside of mental wards? If being in the right and blaming others all your life feels so good, then what’s wrong with all the shit that can make you feel better, yeah, even better than this? People hurt people and it’s terrible. It’s not right and it’ll never stop. I didn’t always know this and now I do.
But my favourite people don’t cry all day. They get their hands dirty. They solve problems. They do things for themselves and others – excellent things. They’re not perfect, but this is somehow made into an asset. I notice things like that. I wish she could, but I can only express so much when I’m reeling from such unsolicited outpourings.
Maybe she should have a blog too. I dunno. JUST SOMETHING CONSTRUCTIVE, JEEEEEESUS.
Edit: (23/05/14) The person in question has now irrefutably been proven to have completely fabricated a very serious incident to get attention from my roommate following a disagreement. Tugging on heart strings just to be manipulative. Guilt-tripping little sicko. I fucking knew it. This is one instance in which I hate being right about someone. Damn it straight to Hades.