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Mourning what could have been and moving on.
4 months ago
With all the anonymous acquaintances I've alienated and abused in mind,
With how obnoxious and batshit crazy and spamming your messages I was to you all, it was necessary for you all to cease all affiliation with me. I'm stabilized now, but as I can finally breath fresh air out of a years-long mental health crisis, it's still come at the cost of the trust and love of people who were good friends to me, and who I was terrible to.
There's no point crying over it anymore, but I probably will anyways to the rest of my days. It's teached me harsh lessons of how I should be treating people, including myself. It's been a long road and a lot of work and pushing through my self-loathing, and will likely continue to for a while still. I make the choice to be a good person instead of a complete jerkass anymore like I was until two years ago.
Thank goodness that I've made new friends and even reconciled with old ones too, which I consider a miracle in itself, considering how aggressive and belligerent I was.
For all the bridges I've burned, the knowledge and acceptance they're all happier without me, does make me happy in some bittersweet way.
I stopped drinking when I humiliated myself at a comedy club at the very beginning of May, so I'm almost two months alcohol-sober now. I need to look after my health, because last year I found out I have an inflamed liver.
Friends, current or former, I'm happy you all played a part in my life. And shall continue too for the friends I have now, in ways I wish I was able to treat my former friends the better ways they deserved, instead of the abuse I inflicted on them.
Grief is less linear stages like the Kübler-Ross model, and more like a rock tumbler of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, that can arrange itself in any order and strike at any time.
With how obnoxious and batshit crazy and spamming your messages I was to you all, it was necessary for you all to cease all affiliation with me. I'm stabilized now, but as I can finally breath fresh air out of a years-long mental health crisis, it's still come at the cost of the trust and love of people who were good friends to me, and who I was terrible to.
There's no point crying over it anymore, but I probably will anyways to the rest of my days. It's teached me harsh lessons of how I should be treating people, including myself. It's been a long road and a lot of work and pushing through my self-loathing, and will likely continue to for a while still. I make the choice to be a good person instead of a complete jerkass anymore like I was until two years ago.
Thank goodness that I've made new friends and even reconciled with old ones too, which I consider a miracle in itself, considering how aggressive and belligerent I was.
For all the bridges I've burned, the knowledge and acceptance they're all happier without me, does make me happy in some bittersweet way.
I stopped drinking when I humiliated myself at a comedy club at the very beginning of May, so I'm almost two months alcohol-sober now. I need to look after my health, because last year I found out I have an inflamed liver.
Friends, current or former, I'm happy you all played a part in my life. And shall continue too for the friends I have now, in ways I wish I was able to treat my former friends the better ways they deserved, instead of the abuse I inflicted on them.
Grief is less linear stages like the Kübler-Ross model, and more like a rock tumbler of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, that can arrange itself in any order and strike at any time.
