— Andy Warhol (via dulcetdecember)
Surprisingly, perfectionists are often procrastinators, as they can tend to think “I don’t have the right skills or resources to do this perfectly now, so I won’t do it at all.”
This sums me up.
I was never one to have many friends. I am an introverted person, slowly trying to get on with the fact I don’t need other people in my life. Occasionally, yes, but not on a daily basis, and not people I would be close to.
It’s still difficult to accept I’ll never have a best friend. You read and hear about others having found their best friends, and it sounds like you’re missing out on something. Being able to tell someone your troubles and relying on them to help you. Them taking time out of their lives in order to listen to you and spend quality time together.
To me, it almost sounds too idyllic.
Every person I ever considered a best friend was not one, now that I look at it. It was never genuine, mostly on their part. I feel like I was often used until someone better came along.
I don’t regret losing all those people however. I regret losing the person I have trusted to be my best friend during the past 6 years. Because I genuinely thought I had finally found someone who would stand by my side. Who won’t grow tired of me. Who would offer to help me whenever I needed them.
I know I can be a difficult person to deal with sometimes because of all of my insecurities caused by depression and anxiety. I just wish I hadn’t been lead into thinking I would always have support. Because I clearly don’t have it anymore. When I call or text, I’m lucky to get a reply now. At least a compassionate one; I would honestly rather not hear about how I should just get my shit together and just move on. If it were that simple, I would have done it long ago by myself.
Another thing seems to be time. Always time. No one has it. Work seems to be way more important than your so-called best friend’s troubled mind. I’m not stupid, I know everyone has to work for a living, but constantly putting it first makes me wonder if that’s all there is to it. Either you’re lying to me that you don’t have time for a 5-minute phone call, or you’re lying to yourself.
I feel like it’s me, though. If you truly didn’t have any time, you wouldn’t post on facebook and snap photos of coffee times with other friends on instagram.
I have to tell myself I don’t need that. I don’t deserve to always wait around until someone feels like maybe spending time with me - only when they feel like it, not when I do, too. I’m sick of being left guessing when the next time will come. They keep saying I’m worth more than that, but no one ever actually shows it. It’s disrespectful.
I don’t know what it sounds like to say I’m forever alone - funny or attention seeking - but maybe if I accept it and stop worrying about not having friends, at least I won’t get hurt anymore.
Not sure how this will make me feel, but it keeps occupying my mind and I might try writing it out.
I’ve been single for 3 years now. Maybe not long to someone else, but time is relative and in this particular case, it feels like a lifetime.
I never wanted relationships as much before as I do now. I never had a boyfriend during my high school years, but that was because I was painfully anti-social and lived in my own world too much. I did dream of having someone and would get depressed at times for being single for so long. But I also had other problems to deal with that usually prevailed.
Fast forward a few years, when I then broke up with my boyfriend of almost 2 years at 22, I truly didn’t want to have a new relationship immediately after. I actually wanted to be alone for some time. But it just so happened that I met someone new.
He pursued me. He made me fall in love with him. He had that something special in him. I still don’t know how, but I never imagined I could fall for someone that much. It almost seemed surreal. He played me a song on youtube titled “Please Don’t Go”. I said I wouldn’t.
But then he did.
Only 3 months later, “it wasn’t the same anymore”. Out of thin air. I don’t know what happened. I never got an honest explanation, and at the back of my mind I think it was my fault. Because I was dealing with depression at the time and going through some tough changes he probably couldn’t accept.
Of course he knew that - we met in group therapy for depression and anxiety. Which is why it surprised me even more that he didn’t understand.
This was the first time I had my heart broken out of love. It shattered to pieces and never fully healed. It was all so intense, and then suddenly - everything was taken from me. So abruptly.
I still feel empty.
It was his birthday yesterday. I clicked on his facebook profile, telling myself I’ll be fine. But I wasn’t. Seeing him looking different, socializing with all those people. It caused an anxiety attack.
He’s the one person I have to keep getting over, but I never truly do. I keep searching for him in other guys, and he’s never there.
I had the right person at the wrong time.