I feel like the subject of my most recent post has just been in my face and in my thoughts ever since I wrote it. It’s inescapable and it comes up when I see my couple-friends and even when I don’t, by way of social media in its many forms.
I saw them again this weekend, obviously, we’re good friends. After pre-gaming we went to a local hangout, where we ran into the fuckboy again. I mean, it’s not that unexpected or even as much of an issue as it would have been some time ago. We’re civil, and as I told his bestie while super drunk, and most likely completely against her will, that’s all we need. There was a bit more to this story, but that’s not what this post is about.
Honestly, I’m not completely sure what this post is all about. Half the couple just mentioned to me that they were unaware of my feelings for and concerning fuckboy. I was told that I internalize. Now that made me wonder if that’s what I do. I post on here about my complete emotional instability all the time, or at least occasionally. But do I actually speak to the people in my life about what’s going on with me? I guess not.
I’m a very open person. People know a lot about me, they know what happens in my life but they very rarely know how I feel about the things that they know bout. Then it freaks me out when someone assesses me as internalizing or as sensitive or really any adjective that describes a part of me that I didn’t actively share with them. Maybe that’s why I share so much? To overload news cycle, take attention away from what I’d rather not dwell on. It’s been known to work in certain recent political campaigns both locally and abroad.
Look at me pretending that I know anything about the human psyche. Two weeks of psychiatry hasn’t really equipped me to even deal with my own issues. Dear reader, thanks for sticking around through my absolutely ridiculous self-reflection, I promise the next one will be an anecdote with some more flesh.