To Be Brutally Honest
Dear Phinn,
You're absolutely right about the phone thing. I've been an absolutely twofaced friend in that regard. I should've been upfront with you when I reached the point where I couldn't bear to speak to you, especially since it isn't your fault in the least. More details on my precarious psyche below.
There are some points you made that make absolutely no sense to me. When have I called you when I needed help? Generally, when I'm in a situation where I'm in need of help, I can't talk to you at all. In fact, that's why I haven't taken your calls for the past however-long-though I still grant I should have been honest about that. .Unfortunately, I don't think there's anything between us that could be fixed by any number of phone calls. That rather is the problem.
Now, I'm really confused about your "I can make my own decisions" thing. WTF? I don't recall ever haranguing you about a decision that qualified as opinion or lesser-of-two-evils. Maybe it's just my poor memory, but that just doesn't fit with how I think about you. Sure, I advise you to do things that are pretty clearly good ideas, such as visiting the doctor and eating regularly, but when have I ever demanded that you do anything? Am I really just forgetting?
As regards doing things behind your back: Operation Pazienza was a horrible idea, and you're not the first one to have let me know that I shouldn't try anything of that nature. I don't even want to think about it anymore. Even including Pazienza, I haven't made any conscious effort to manipulate your circumstances. That was purely a "who else is out there?" affair, not intended to cripple or manipulate you at all, and (more to the point) universally frowned upon and used as a chastisement by everyone else who ever cared about you.
I only told Dr. Maksym about your situation in high school because I could not handle the psychological burden of your secrets. Yes, I'm a psychological wimp compared to you, but just because my breaking point comes sooner than yours doesn't mean I'm not obligated to keep myself away from that point. Why do you think I ended up in a mental hospital? I couldn't let myself go any further towards insanity, and the treatment included not spending time with people who make me more insane.
Phinn, I did everything I could to help you, and I had no idea how to do it, and I only made things worse, and I nearly went crazy because of it. I'm fucking sorry I haven't been able to be there for you, but I can't deal with my utter helplessness as regards your situation without shutting it out completely.
I don't want to control you. I don't want to screw you over. Dammit, Phinn, I don't want to have anything to do with you, and the only reason I hadn't literally broken off our friendship is because I didn't want to do any worse damage than I'd already done-and obviously, once again, I've utterly failed. Aren't I fucking smart?
Now I have one perfectly legitimate gripe with you-not just a defense or a non-defensive explanation. It's the way you talk about me to others, those who know me and those who have never met me. Yes, you have lots of issues with me, and I acknowledge and respect your right to be angry with me, but you have a lot of fucking nerve to go badmouthing me behind my back. I have never, ever done that to you, no matter what else I have done.
AND another thing. I may have been horrifyingly negligent-I have been, in fact, and I'm not about to stop rubbing myself in the face over it-but I have not ever ONCE tried to be mean. Anytime you randomly decided I was mad at you was all in your head. I got frustrated, annoyed, overwhelmed, upset, but I have never deliberately treated you with cruelty.
I'm really, really proud of you for finally acting like a regular selfish human being, because it's long overdue. Now that you've called me on the carpet, I'm rewarding you with complete honesty. STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME. I'M FINALLY GETTING BETTER AND I DON'T NEED YOU OR ANYONE ELSE TO FUCK IT UP FOR ME. You don't need me to fuck things up? That's just dandy, because the feeling's mutual.
I wish you nothing but continued progress towards comfort and joy. As ever, I'm sincerely glad that my old friends are still supporting you in a way that meets your approval. I hope that everything goes well for you-however crazy that may sound after the rest of this letter-however hypocritical you're sure to paint me in your next LJ post, I'm serious as death. Fuck guilt-I don't care whether or not you care, and don't you fucking implicate my faith in your cynical pity-harvesting.
Good night and goodbye, Swallow.
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If you have any criticism or commentary, be fucking brave and COMMENT. Any more talk behind my back and... I don't know what I'll do, but I doubt it's good.
You're absolutely right about the phone thing. I've been an absolutely twofaced friend in that regard. I should've been upfront with you when I reached the point where I couldn't bear to speak to you, especially since it isn't your fault in the least. More details on my precarious psyche below.
There are some points you made that make absolutely no sense to me. When have I called you when I needed help? Generally, when I'm in a situation where I'm in need of help, I can't talk to you at all. In fact, that's why I haven't taken your calls for the past however-long-though I still grant I should have been honest about that. .Unfortunately, I don't think there's anything between us that could be fixed by any number of phone calls. That rather is the problem.
Now, I'm really confused about your "I can make my own decisions" thing. WTF? I don't recall ever haranguing you about a decision that qualified as opinion or lesser-of-two-evils. Maybe it's just my poor memory, but that just doesn't fit with how I think about you. Sure, I advise you to do things that are pretty clearly good ideas, such as visiting the doctor and eating regularly, but when have I ever demanded that you do anything? Am I really just forgetting?
As regards doing things behind your back: Operation Pazienza was a horrible idea, and you're not the first one to have let me know that I shouldn't try anything of that nature. I don't even want to think about it anymore. Even including Pazienza, I haven't made any conscious effort to manipulate your circumstances. That was purely a "who else is out there?" affair, not intended to cripple or manipulate you at all, and (more to the point) universally frowned upon and used as a chastisement by everyone else who ever cared about you.
I only told Dr. Maksym about your situation in high school because I could not handle the psychological burden of your secrets. Yes, I'm a psychological wimp compared to you, but just because my breaking point comes sooner than yours doesn't mean I'm not obligated to keep myself away from that point. Why do you think I ended up in a mental hospital? I couldn't let myself go any further towards insanity, and the treatment included not spending time with people who make me more insane.
Phinn, I did everything I could to help you, and I had no idea how to do it, and I only made things worse, and I nearly went crazy because of it. I'm fucking sorry I haven't been able to be there for you, but I can't deal with my utter helplessness as regards your situation without shutting it out completely.
I don't want to control you. I don't want to screw you over. Dammit, Phinn, I don't want to have anything to do with you, and the only reason I hadn't literally broken off our friendship is because I didn't want to do any worse damage than I'd already done-and obviously, once again, I've utterly failed. Aren't I fucking smart?
Now I have one perfectly legitimate gripe with you-not just a defense or a non-defensive explanation. It's the way you talk about me to others, those who know me and those who have never met me. Yes, you have lots of issues with me, and I acknowledge and respect your right to be angry with me, but you have a lot of fucking nerve to go badmouthing me behind my back. I have never, ever done that to you, no matter what else I have done.
AND another thing. I may have been horrifyingly negligent-I have been, in fact, and I'm not about to stop rubbing myself in the face over it-but I have not ever ONCE tried to be mean. Anytime you randomly decided I was mad at you was all in your head. I got frustrated, annoyed, overwhelmed, upset, but I have never deliberately treated you with cruelty.
I'm really, really proud of you for finally acting like a regular selfish human being, because it's long overdue. Now that you've called me on the carpet, I'm rewarding you with complete honesty. STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME. I'M FINALLY GETTING BETTER AND I DON'T NEED YOU OR ANYONE ELSE TO FUCK IT UP FOR ME. You don't need me to fuck things up? That's just dandy, because the feeling's mutual.
I wish you nothing but continued progress towards comfort and joy. As ever, I'm sincerely glad that my old friends are still supporting you in a way that meets your approval. I hope that everything goes well for you-however crazy that may sound after the rest of this letter-however hypocritical you're sure to paint me in your next LJ post, I'm serious as death. Fuck guilt-I don't care whether or not you care, and don't you fucking implicate my faith in your cynical pity-harvesting.
Good night and goodbye, Swallow.
------------------------------------
If you have any criticism or commentary, be fucking brave and COMMENT. Any more talk behind my back and... I don't know what I'll do, but I doubt it's good.