The Perimeter

I was offended months ago, when you wouldn't accept my help. I was more offended when Madam St. C of W offered you the same help and you were gushing over it. But then I remembered how sick you are, and I forgave you. Despite what St. C says, I know its not all about me ;-) So where's St. C these days? Won't she bathe you, and clothe you, and anoint you in oil and Bless you and pray for you? She doesn't work, and she's not sick like I am right now. I can't carry my own self around some days, how the hell am I supposed to carry you? Nope. Not offended. You make up these scenarios, and you believe them, but I know they're not true, so why would I be offended?

You fucking bitch. You have some goddam nerve. Did you even bitch at anyone else saying the medical system was bad all over? Fuck no. Did you even notice my first three sentences? Fuck no. All about me? Fuck no. But you think its all about you. Poor you. You try so hard. You're so hard done by. "Wah-wah-wahh, oh me, oh me, oh me. me. me. me" "MY boat" "she stuck her oar in MY boat!" Dumbass fuckface crazy psycho controlling bitch, its HER boat, not yours.  I don't wanna see your smug, judgeMENTAL fat face, and I don't wanna have to deal with you and your fake, self-serving God shit I heard she kicked you out of her house two weeks ago, because of YOUR frustration with her. She's a very sick woman right now, in addition to everything else, her BPD is gone full blown, and you're antagonizing her. I think you thrive on the drama. You do. You thrive on the drama and the attention. She won't accept help because she...

I used to have a little keychain with a pink fluffy guy on it, that if you whacked him on a hard surface, that's what he'd say. I feel like that today. For the last 3 mornings I've been having conversations with her in my head first thing when I wake up. I've dreamed about her too. I've dreamed she's feeling great, and we were hanging out, having all the fun we used to have before this horrible thing started happenning. There were times my anxious self had convinced me she didn't want to be my friend anymore in the past: When she had a gf, when she spent a lot of time online with a man, and when she  hung out with this other person for a while, but really, it was still fine between us, even though I had twinges of jealousy, and twinges of feeling like I wasn't good enough, because I didn't have the means financially to give her things I wanted to, while I watched  them lavish her with gifts. I had to remind myself that my unconditional love for her w...

and then I would ask you why you don't have any compassion for my illnesses. Why you always have to "one up" me. Why you always say such invalidating things like "it could be worse". My pain is not a competition. Its just my pain. I want you to acknowledge it exists! Why can't you do that?! Why do you always have to diminish it, dismiss it and deny it. Why do you always have to compare my pain to someone else's and then say "and then they were fine". I am not them! Why is it when I get brave enough to tell you how I'm really feeling, you say "don't dwell on it". Why can't you ever say you're sorry I'm sick, and you hope I feel better. Or something along those lines to show that you actually give a shit. Why are you so against me having a dog? People think I'm a hero for rescuing this poor dog who was on death's door TWICE, and you don't even want to give him a chance? You say you don't like his...

Is a weird thing. I've done it since I was a teenager, and now I'm almost 53 years old, and I think I'm just starting to figure out WHY I do it. I used to think of my zits, flybites, scabs and especially the callouses on my feet as imperfections, and I figured if I picked at them and made them go away, they would be better somehow. Which is odd, cause when I pick at them, I actually make them worse. I sometimes even make them bleed. As I write this, I have 4 bleeding spots on my left foot. My left foot has been a target of my self-harm behaviors the most I think. It has always been more calloused and ugly than my right. I first started believing my feet were ugly when I used to get ingrown toenails on my big toes on both feet all the time from shoes that were too small. I remember having growth spurts as a child. I was a big kid. I was targeted, insulted and bullied as fat, but when I look back at myself, I wasn't fat at all, I was just a big-framed, tall kid. I w...