You know what I hate? I hate not being able to be real about my life because dealing with other people freaking out over the things I say or am going through or feel is a burden that I don’t have the strength to carry on top of everything else.
I hate that on the basis of not a God damned thing people think that they have answers for you. That if you were just doing it right, everything would be fine. That if you would just fall into line, things would come together. Cuz they know – their lives are just fine.
I hate the way that even when the things that are going wrong are clearly not my doing, the troubles I have erase the reality of who I am and the sort of person I have worked very hard to become.
I hate that people will pop in to say something nice and vaguely encouraging when prompted but otherwise will never reach out, never check in, never make the first move. “I can love a leper who crosses my path, as long as they’re just passing by.”
I hate that if you respond to advice, “concern” and “help” with honesty – “I’ve done that and it’s not working” (I don’t even add in the “how the FUCK can you not see that already – do you see me AT ALL” that I really want to scream at them) – it means that you are an arrogant know-it-all. Like I’m not begging for some bit of wisdom or advice that would help. Like I’m not dying for some bit of wisdom or advice or course of action that would help. Sorry, your advice sucks.
I hate that if you call people out on their bullshit, they can work themselves into quite a lather over how you have mistreated, not appreciated, and some other “-ated” I can’t think of right now, but they can’t begin to fathom how anything they have done could possibly have caused another any pain at all.
I hate that people think you’re supposed to be a fucking mind reader: “now I want to talk, now I want to listen, now I think you should anticipate all of my potential desires, preferences and needs and comport yourself accordingly. It’s exceedingly clear to me – I shouldn’t have to actually tell you any of this. If you don’t, then screw you, you terrible, terrible person!”
I hate that people seem to think that their silence is a neutral thing and not a knife in the back and a jackboot in the head.
I hate that “I don’t know what to tell you, you don’t want to hear what I have to say” rolls off people’s tongues so easily, but speaking encouragement, praise and pretty much anything positive is just unfathomable.
I hate that 1 error erases a 100 hard-fought sucesses.
I hate that I know and will readily admit and apologize for being guilty of every last one of these things that I am complaining about here, but the response will always be, “how dare you criticize? It’s not like you’re perfect.” No shit, Sherlock. You don’t say.