Breaking Down

Ya know, it feels to me like no one gives a good rat’s ass what’s going on in my life. Guess what? 90% of the time, I’m fucking right. I used to be the pretty one, the sweet one, the one that would bend over backward to help a friend in need. Hell, even today, when I am visibally falling apart, I am the one everyone calls to lay down their burdens. Here’s a few examples: (1) About 3 months ago, a good friend of mine called me crying. Now mind you, this is a big, strong man. And he was having suicidal thought and had cut himself. It was 3am, and I got dressed, went to his place, brought him home with me, sobered him up, and talked to him for hours. He left a much happier person. Now,  last week, I called him because I had sliced my fucking arm open, and I needed an outlet for my pain. He said, and I quote “It’s 4am, can you break down at some other point, because it’s rude to call people this late. I’ll talk to you sometime tomorrow.” And hung up on me. Now, I realise that he may have been tired, but when he called me at 3am, I had been asleep maybe 20 minutes, and had just gotten off of a 20 hour shift. But he was important enough to me for me to ride to the rescue like some kind of fucking white knight. Guess I just don’t factor as an important concern in his life. (2) I have a friend that lives out of state and he tells me to call him, because he wants to be my support system. Okay, I’m sitting here at 3am, been awake since 1:30, sent him a text. He responded with “I’m here baby. Let’s talk.” Well, that was at 1:34… It’s 3am, and I have sent 10 texts with no response.(3) A “good friend of mine called the other night because her boyfriend was beating her ass. So I went to pick her up. He not only kicked her ass, but mine, my roommate’s and a friend of ours. So the police got involved… Now that she has taken him back, I’m a liar and I made a mountain out of a mole-hill. And “people need to keep their noses where they belong.” Is it bad that I hope he whips her ass every night? What a fucking idiot. (4) My roommate and “best friend” wants me to talk to her when I’m upset and sad… Yeah, right. She’s knocked out asleep and I’m sitting here alone as usual with my blade. So,, when people tell you they want to support you, what they really mean is “Only if it doesn’t affect my life in any way.” Well, so sorry I had to wait have my fucking latest meltdown at an inconvinient time for you. I fucking apologize. Hopefully, next time I decide to break, I’ll try and do it at a time that works better for all of you. I have come to realise that most people don’t give a goddamn how you feel. As long as my destruction doesn’t mess with their fucking perfect, wonderful, full, healthy lives. Well, guess what all of you. Next time you self-destruct, I hope that I’m not dead… Cause apparently I’m the only one that gives a fuck about other people. I’m trying my damndest to help everyone else, and my life is burning down and no one can focus on me long enough to see that I need help too. I don’t want to die… It terrifies me… But it crosses my mind every day. What would it matter really? No one gives a fuck while I’m alive… Why would they give a fuck when I’m dead?