Sometimes being right sucks.

The visit went 5/6ths as predicted. What’s worse is that right at the start I felt that long dead feeling of enjoyment of seeing an old friend after a long time, and soon after was shocked at actually being asked what’s been going on with me, but instead of really listening or asking for details (I don’t give them up lightly) was basically just told “oh maybe you’re on the very shallow end of the autism spectrum”. Wow. Okay. Thanks for that useless and completely off the mark “advice”, if it could even be called that.

The next several hours were, as they have been in recent years, just listening to her talk about herself and own life incessantly. The only ways to take part in the conversation were either asking about details I’d be force fed anyway, making detached responses, or just trying to interject things. Basically no questions about me, anything that might turn toward my own existence quickly redirected to her.

Very surprised when, of course very near the end of our time together, she (sort of) returned to the topic of my unwellness…again in a presumptive and prescriptive way. You know, typical “you should do these things that will help you and they will help you” type bs. Eventually I had enough I guess and said as much as I could without saying I actively think about offing myself…a light finally seemed to go off and she mostly dropped it, though it still felt too little too late.

This is someone because of whom, when I first noticed suicidality creeping into my psyche, I said to myself I would never act on it because we had lost a common friend to it. Now I feel like I don’t care. She and our dynamic have changed so, and the misery of the existence I lead so much more severe, this is not something I feel like would stop me in particular over the other few stupid things inexplicably keeping tied to the farce of living (the other one person previously in the same boat I now feel some level of active disdain towards no less).

fuck.