I had another sad night due to the usual circumstances. I was feeling pretty good since the weather was nice, went home, cooked a nice steak dinner for one (I use nice as a vague term because I actually don’t like steak and did not enjoy consuming it, but the cooking part was fun). As I was finishing cleaning up, I noticed that it was 9pm and neither of my roommates were home.
That’s what always happens, as you may remember from my previous posts. I immediately get to thinking that they’re hanging out without me, excluding me, as they tend to do. It’s kind of hard to not jump to this conclusion because two weekends ago, they all went to Chicago with inviting me (but invited the one friend’s roommate that everyone barely knows), and last weekend, I actually ran into them all at a concert that I just happened to also be at that they didn’t tell me they were all going to. So yeah, it’s been a problem.
I’m feeling okay, but it’s a nagging thought in my head because maybe they’re just both working late tonight, but also, if they’re always hanging out without me, what’s the harm in another night? Does it even matter?
But it does matter, apparently, because my thoughts keep going back to it as I’m trying to work on a relaxing coloring book to calm myself the fuck down. So I do something that I know won’t end well and I usually avoid doing at all costs—I check Lisa (my roommate)’s Instagram story. Yup. They’re all hanging out without me, the whole gang. And they’re taking cute pictures together and posting them on social media like they’re not even worried about the fact that I’m going to see them and turn into an emotional wreck. And they know I will turn into an emotional wreck because I told them so many fucking times how much it bothers me.
I’m fine. I’m breathing. I’m rationalizing through it. I’m saying it doesn’t matter because I had an enjoyable night to myself, and whatever other lies I can tell myself. I reach beside my bed to pick up my laptop to distract myself, and slam my head against the corner of my desk, and while the pain was slight, it triggers the feeling that there is no happiness left in my life, and I feel in so much emotional pain that I start crying and can’t stop. I eventually wrapped myself in a blanket burrito, stuffed plugs into my ear hole (so I wouldn’t be able to hear them talking and laughing to each other when they came home) and stare blankly into space. I try to read stories from my emotional support book, but I’ve read all of those stories so many times they’ve lost most of their impact. I just sit there, trying to breath, crying intermittently.
Today, I still feel like a wet mess, and I have teared up already multiple times. It’s hard, and I’m trying to navigate my way through it to figure out where to go from here because I definitely do not want to continue a friendship with these fucking monsters, but I’m also sort of trapped because I live with 2 of them and I don’t have another friend group.
So here’s what I’m thinking. If I didn’t know they weren’t hanging out without me, would I feel differently? If I didn’t know about the Chicago trip, or the Europe trip from last year, or the concerts, birthday parties, the movie they’re all seeing together this Thursday, etc., etc.—would I feel okay? My other question is, can I still have a friendship with them with all of this going on? And my third question is, do I need them to be happy?
Here’s the thing. I can’t change their actions or how they feel about me. I can’t even learn from them to do better because after agonizing over it for years and years, I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong, and therapy hasn’t brought about any answers either. However, I can change how these things make me feel. I just need to figure out how I want to feel about this.
Here are my options:
- I can carry on with my life as is and let all of this roll off my shoulders because in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. This is hard, though, because this is what I’ve been trying to do and it has not been working at all. But, I can keep trying.
- I can accept that we’re not friends anymore but use them as they are using me—as disposable people to do things with when I need someone to do things with and to casually pass the time with when I’m bored, with all of us knowing that it’s nothing deeper than that.
- I can cut them out of my life, and my roommates will simply be people that coexist in the house with me and we can be cordial to each other without any connection. I can avoid being around them for the most part, stay in my room with earplugs/white noise machine to shut out any sounds that they are making, and just going about doing my own thing.
I am leaning toward #3 because I have tried being vulnerable with them, I have tried changing myself, and I have tried not caring. None of it works, and at this point, I’m convinced it’s not me, it’s them, and I really don’t want people like that in my life. However, it’s kind of hard when I live with them (and I really don’t want to move because I love our house and everything about it is perfect except for them), and I don’t have another friend group to fall back on. I could try leaning more heavily on my significant other’s friend groups, but I think we’re going to be breaking up soon, so that probably won’t work.
None of these are a good fix, I realize that, but I just need to tread water for another year and a half, and then I’ll be moving to an entirely new place with a clean slate (where hopefully this doesn’t happen again!!). Ugh, life and personal connections are so hard.