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Oh baby, are you feelin' guilty for what you did

 

Last night on Facebook I posted an image the requested people answer the following question Which side of me did you meet first?

I posted it with the caption “I might regret this…”  But honestly, I didn’t. It gave me some awesome reassurance, but it also gave me A LOT to think about because there were some answers I didn’t expect to see. Specifically RUDE from people I went to high school with. I figured I was pretty invisible in High School for the most part. My graduating class was over 800 students and I was only involved in one thing, the school Newspaper, but a lot of my writing was opinion and entertainment reviews. So really, not enough of anything to REALLY make a point. But I am starting to think I might have been an ass hole in High School.

About 10 years ago or so a friend had mentioned that one of her friends said I was a jerk in high school because she claims I called her an asshole once. Which, me now. Yeah, I definitely will call someone an ass hole if they were being one, but I didn’t think I truly got my stand up mentality until my Senior year when I became homeless and was sleeping on friends couches, breaking into my grandmother’s house when she was away or sleeping in my car. I would have actually labeled myself more quiet, withdrawn, and only loud to those closest to me.   

To say that I went through a lot in high school is actually quite the understatement. High School isn’t usually fun for many people and we’re all going becoming people at that time, but I faced an excessive amount of trauma at that time and my brain definitely protects me from remembering some.  

But, this girl had probable cause to think it WAS me who called her an ass hole. Identifier she gave? “Didn’t you used to wear a Lobster necklace?” Guilty. I got one of those Mardi gras bead necklaces from Red Lobster that hat a little red lobster and I wore it a lot in high school. Can I cringe at myself anymore as I write this? 

So another person I went to High School with responded with “Rude.” And I was taken back for a moment. WHAT? This girl is someone I had always thought was cool. She was super pretty, dressed how I wanted to dress and she was a good writer. But apparently our first interaction was me telling her “Small things amuse small minds.” Fuck. That’s totally something I used to say. And after she said it, I totally see me saying it. She followed it up with the fact that she adored me now, but her first impression of me, wasn’t great. And probably why weren’t closer in the Journalism class.  Having these memory recalls just made me think about how our realities are not all the same realities. And that’s not to say that having two people tell me I was an ass hole means I was TOTALLY an ass hole in High School…. But….I truly think I was.  Because when I am hurt, scared, or feel completely alone… I get vicious, and easily provoked.

My self-preservation method is to push EVERYONE away before they can get close enough to hurt me. I’ve been hurt too many times by those who were meant to guide me and shape me.  It’s something I need to work on because I still do it to this day. And the reasoning behind it would terrify a lot of people close to me today.  It’s like I constantly fight two sides of myself. The person who collects and keeps friends forever, and the person who doesn’t want anyone to care about them because If people care about me, it weasels its way into my heart and plants this seed of guilt should I ever die. A child of abuse, one of my biggest fears is disappointing those close to me or those whose opinions matter.

As difficult as it is to say or even write out loud, I always feel like I am close to the edge on wanting to die. But I find small things to keep me on the cliff instead of the ledge. Small things like being part of the body positive movement, supporting my friends, staring into the vastness of the ocean or listening to music in a cool dark room. But the biggest thing that keeps me off the ledge, is my fear of disappointing people or causing them any pain.

I’m glad that those who said they had negative first impressions of me stuck around. I don’t mean to be a sour patch kid, but my heart gets attached and I am easy to shatter because I have never quite been whole.

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