I’m really resilient nowadays, really resilient. Panic attacks aside, my emotional health is peachy for someone who’s undergone a very draining year. We’re not even talking about failed relationships… I’m talking about constantly being the accidental other woman, about being pursued by total assholes, about having a hand in ending other people’s relationships… Those are all the things that have contributed to my lack of faith in love.
The thing is, I haven’t always been like this. I used to be a believer in the best in human nature… I don’t like how I’m jaded and hardened, but let’s be honest: I’m falling apart here even though I have made myself numb to just about everything. Cynicism is my savior. I don’t care what my peers are saying because they’ve said worse. I don’t care about some guy’s vendetta because guys have done worse. Can you imagine if I came into this expecting the best? I would be a wreck. It’s my growing distrust and my expectation for disappointment that’s prevented me from completely descending into full-blown depression. I’ve seen the ugliest side of my peers, the worst examples of manipulation by men, the most wrenching instances of heartache in beautiful and talented women who deserve much better than to be lied to. And it is probably because of all of that (and more) that I’m able to approach this situation without surprise and with minimal panic.
I’m peacing out and I can’t even really say that it was fun while it lasted. It was fun, sometimes, but all the fun-ness combined still wouldn’t exceed the suck-age. And I’m really tired of everything sucking.
— lenachen
