Some of my friends that I think too highly of myself, in local slang, “nagkarga ng sariling bangko.” Perhaps I could curb thinking “I’m fucking awesome” all the time and feel pity for myself. That’s too easy, no? I mean, I’m in my late 20’s, with a kid to support and not enough money to support her with, still living on my dad’s dime, almost my entire family is in another continent, this isn’t what I wanted to do with my life, and I’m single. And before you argue that last part, a lawyer once said, “Unless you’re actually married, you’re still single.”
A lot more nights like these.
I put myself down a lot. Like, A LOT. Even when I’ve done well at work, I think that it’s only because I’ve fucked things up for so long that it was bound to get better. When I get praise from other people I immediately think that they’ve felt the opposite about me until that point in time. “You did a really great job with this report! Coz, you know, you fucking things up a lot around here.” “That’s a really nice haircut you got! Because it usually looks like a dirty mop.” “Thanks for the great advice! I mean, not that I’m going to take it because let’s face it, what do you *really* know about succeeding in life?”
I’ve come to accept my ugly cry face.
And as much as I love throwing pity parties, I also tend to careen towards the opposite end of the spectrum and become a self-entitled dick. If I’ve asked you to do something for me, you better do it right and the way I want to do it. Because doing it any other way is just a waste of MY time and just insulting since I know that my way is the only right way to do it. And this not only applies to work. Oh, no. You have a bad sense of direction? Get better at it. I don’t care how but I expect you to be able to fully navigate yourself around your neighborhood in at least a year. A YEAR. If it takes longer than that then I will think you’re either royally retarded or just trying to piss me off. And you say you’re your father’s fastest sperm?
I’d tell you to get lost but that’d be redundant.
Or the fact that if you know your kitchen is starting to smell bad (because of the garbage can, unwashed dishes, etc.), then you should, as any normal person would do, close the door (provided you have one) so the stink won’t reek into the other parts of the house. Simple, right? So if you don’t close that damn door and the living room is starting to smell like rotten meat, then you’re fucking stupid. I mean, that’s my take on it anyway.
Or if you haven’t seen someone in a while and you don’t call because there’s been a mutual understanding that you’re both going to be very busy that week, so you try to busy yourself on a day that you’re actually not, then that person texts about making plans and you call and discuss and leave it at, “Yeah, sure. Just call me and we’ll see.” Naturally, you assume that this person who’s made first contact has desires intentions of seeing you. And so you call him (or her, whatever) and find out if plans are pushing through. Then s/he doesn’t pick up after, oh I don’t know ELEVEN MISSED CALLS. Clearly, plans with you are not that important. So what? You admit to yourself, yeah, it’s not that important. I’m not that important.
And so you stew because you mistakenly thought you were important and found out that you weren’t and then it pisses you off that you’ve belittled yourself and then get mad at the fact that this is so petty that it shouldn’t matter and then speed up into Insanity Highway where you just keep ranting and venting until you start throwing things at walls. Then add a dash of follow up texts that indicate if you still want plans to push through, you will have to share it with a friend. And the fact that there’s someone else just ticks you off all the more because WHAT THE FUCK? This wasn’t where this was going earlier. And maybe if you weren’t so mad it would have gone better, but who the fuck is he to tell me to calm the fuck down? This was important to me and not important to you. How can we not be on the same page about this??
This, folks, is why you shouldn’t be with someone who doesn’t share the same sentiments as you.
I mean, today it just might be about dinner plans but who knows? Maybe tomorrow it’ll be about how to spend the weekend. Or how to spend money. Or what things are worth investing in. Or how to raise a kid. Or where to live. Or all those other grown up things people are supposed to think seriously about. What then? WHAT THEN?
And people will say, “Cross the bridge when you get there.” But what if I reach that bridge 5 years from now? 10 years from now? Will that be enough time for people to come to an understanding? And what if we still don’t see eye to eye when we get to that bridge? Do we just shake hands and go our separate ways? I’ll be fucking 40 by then. FORTY!!! WHAT DO I DO THEN?!
Fuck you if you think my life is dependent on another person. But the thought of investing all this time and energy just so I can waste 10 years and have nothing to show for it in the end is a really fucked up thing to do. No one wants to preempt the future but FUCKING HELL. WHAT. THE FUCK. DO I DO THEN??
You’ll have to excuse me for a little bit. I think I may have written myself into a panic attack.
