being left behind, and leaving it all behind
i'm still coming to grips with how i've essentially cut ties with one group of friends, only to be forced to do so again, more than half a decade later, for very similar reasons.
---
i knew that one of these days, i'd have to leave a record of this in some semi-permanent form, just so that i could finally let go, or something like that - though i never imagined that i'd be doing so because i have so little free space in my mind, so little time to feel, and too much work to do for it to fully sink in.
i had a barkada, back in highschool. i spent some of the happiest times of my life with those guys - doing pranks and other forms of silliness and stupidity, getting in trouble - generally being truly wild and free, for the first time. so wild and free, in fact, that i've never quite figured out how i managed to NOT learn how to drink, smoke, and maybe do some drugs (with a very select few of them, mind you) hanging out with them.
we all (well, mostly) went to the same university, so we never had any trouble finding time for our group. when the time came to join an org, i went with where they'd be - and that's when i realized that, maybe, this isn't the right crowd for me.
-
i remember how some of us treated pol. at first, it was just very light teasing, as a way to pass the time and have a few laughs among us. slowly, i noticed a change in how a lot of us suddenly treated him. instead of laughing with him, we were laughing at him.
to my credit, i knew when to stop, mostly because he was one of the guys i was closest with in the group, along with marc, micky, and abuzo. a lot of us didn't, until finally, we noticed that he wasn't there anymore.
-
the same thing happened to me after we joined that org. they formed a clique with the other macho idiots there, guys who were never there when we went through the tough times, like when we were all nearly expelled in highschool (or at least we were being threatened with expulsion, because we wouldn't stop covering up for someone who, in hindsight, really deserved what he got), or when we stuck up for each other when some of us, including me, were facing the prospect of not being able to finish highschool because of, *cough* academic obstacles.
the others seemed cool, and flashy, and so much more fun to be with, so they flocked to them - which was ok, except that they needed a replacement for paul. they needed someone who could be the butt of every joke, to be the laughingstock so they and the people around them could laugh. to project happiness. activity. to show people they were cool, and more that that, to project that gang feel.
but i wasn't cool with it, and i wasn't cool with how other people in the org began to treat me because of how my own friends treated me. besides, my schedule wouldn't allow it; my academics had been suffering immensely because i was spending too much time with friends who were rapidly becoming, well, not friends. i felt betrayed. after all we've been through, after all the time and effort i invested in our friendship, our barkada, i was still not worth more than the acquaintance of a few strangers, and that saddened me deeply.
so i left, and never looked back.
-
i would spend the rest of that year very deeply entangled in depression and self-loathing.
the sting of being thrice rejected at roughly the same time, first by my family, second by the friends i thought i'd have forever, and third by love that will never be reciprocated, is hard to endure without some form of comfort, so i took to sloth and gluttony.
of course, after the worst year of my life - i had my worst academic year ever, managed to develop mild heart and liver disease because of the two 'comforts' i spoke of, and twice attempted suicide (thankfully, i failed both times. i also very thankfully have a pretty hard and durable skull) - i decided that, maybe, it's not the end of the world. maybe i'm taking all of these the wrong way.
-
given that this post is already over ten paragraphs long, i'll spare my fingers the trouble of typing everything down and just say that, a year later, i was in a pretty good way, in almost every way possible (except in the way of weight management and living a healthy life in general).
life was good again. i felt renewed.
i had something broken inside me, but, i thought, don't we all have secrets to keep, and wounds that will never heal?
living is a choice, and the fact that i'm writing this down says that i made a pretty good one, don't you think?
-
there is a saying that you are the company you keep, and i believe that, especially with the things that happened to me.
the company i kept before, while happy and fun, was undisciplined and, towards the end, not respectful of me. and so i lost all sense of value for myself. if only i could have left the barkada but still be close with the four i mentioned. at least i remained so with pol and marc, for the most part until this day. *sigh* sometimes you just have to do what's best for you, because in the end, it's your life you're living, not be a pawn to be played with in some other person's who won't care what happened to you one way or the other.
i credit my recovery from depression to the group of friends i found, and i've been with them for the past six years. they're not as fun or as wild as the previous ones, but i found that i was more suited to this kind of friendship. thoughtful, disciplined (though i'm still quite far from being this), and always cautious and considerate of others.
---
...which is why i feel half-guilty at being, not quite angry, but very, very disappointed, with two of my closest friends from that group.
i suspect they never meant any harm in doing what they did - but they still did it, knowing full well what it would have caused, and behind my back as well. i won't pretend i don't understand. if i really, really wanted to get that something, i'd have done the same - except i wouldn't, and to my credit, i haven't ever done this before, even to those friends that left me.
-
...which is precisely why i feel incredibly upset - because, once again, after everything we've been through, everything i've done, and everything they've done for me, our friendship is still not worth a little bit of decency and honesty, and certainly not worth at least the same as other's friendship - it's far below it.
i feel like an outsider, and that stings when you realize that, maybe, that's exactly what they feel about me.
maybe it's because i've had the misfortune of losing, and being forced to leave, a lot of relationships before, but i really, really felt the same kind of stab i felt more than six years ago.
maybe i left in this way because i know that the same thing is happening again, and i wanted them to at least feel some semblance of what i feel right now - to teach them an important lesson as a parting gift.
i do feel betrayed (again) though, and that's what's troubling me.
-
...but i'm not angry. i feel sad and disappointed, but i feel more like i have to do this as a way to repay them for all that they've given me, being some of the major reasons i'm still alive and all.
even friendships come and go, and we all take along a little bit of it - but in the end, it's us who decide what we give our friends when the time comes to drift away.
---
i knew that one of these days, i'd have to leave a record of this in some semi-permanent form, just so that i could finally let go, or something like that - though i never imagined that i'd be doing so because i have so little free space in my mind, so little time to feel, and too much work to do for it to fully sink in.
i had a barkada, back in highschool. i spent some of the happiest times of my life with those guys - doing pranks and other forms of silliness and stupidity, getting in trouble - generally being truly wild and free, for the first time. so wild and free, in fact, that i've never quite figured out how i managed to NOT learn how to drink, smoke, and maybe do some drugs (with a very select few of them, mind you) hanging out with them.
we all (well, mostly) went to the same university, so we never had any trouble finding time for our group. when the time came to join an org, i went with where they'd be - and that's when i realized that, maybe, this isn't the right crowd for me.
-
i remember how some of us treated pol. at first, it was just very light teasing, as a way to pass the time and have a few laughs among us. slowly, i noticed a change in how a lot of us suddenly treated him. instead of laughing with him, we were laughing at him.
to my credit, i knew when to stop, mostly because he was one of the guys i was closest with in the group, along with marc, micky, and abuzo. a lot of us didn't, until finally, we noticed that he wasn't there anymore.
-
the same thing happened to me after we joined that org. they formed a clique with the other macho idiots there, guys who were never there when we went through the tough times, like when we were all nearly expelled in highschool (or at least we were being threatened with expulsion, because we wouldn't stop covering up for someone who, in hindsight, really deserved what he got), or when we stuck up for each other when some of us, including me, were facing the prospect of not being able to finish highschool because of, *cough* academic obstacles.
the others seemed cool, and flashy, and so much more fun to be with, so they flocked to them - which was ok, except that they needed a replacement for paul. they needed someone who could be the butt of every joke, to be the laughingstock so they and the people around them could laugh. to project happiness. activity. to show people they were cool, and more that that, to project that gang feel.
but i wasn't cool with it, and i wasn't cool with how other people in the org began to treat me because of how my own friends treated me. besides, my schedule wouldn't allow it; my academics had been suffering immensely because i was spending too much time with friends who were rapidly becoming, well, not friends. i felt betrayed. after all we've been through, after all the time and effort i invested in our friendship, our barkada, i was still not worth more than the acquaintance of a few strangers, and that saddened me deeply.
so i left, and never looked back.
-
i would spend the rest of that year very deeply entangled in depression and self-loathing.
the sting of being thrice rejected at roughly the same time, first by my family, second by the friends i thought i'd have forever, and third by love that will never be reciprocated, is hard to endure without some form of comfort, so i took to sloth and gluttony.
of course, after the worst year of my life - i had my worst academic year ever, managed to develop mild heart and liver disease because of the two 'comforts' i spoke of, and twice attempted suicide (thankfully, i failed both times. i also very thankfully have a pretty hard and durable skull) - i decided that, maybe, it's not the end of the world. maybe i'm taking all of these the wrong way.
-
given that this post is already over ten paragraphs long, i'll spare my fingers the trouble of typing everything down and just say that, a year later, i was in a pretty good way, in almost every way possible (except in the way of weight management and living a healthy life in general).
life was good again. i felt renewed.
i had something broken inside me, but, i thought, don't we all have secrets to keep, and wounds that will never heal?
living is a choice, and the fact that i'm writing this down says that i made a pretty good one, don't you think?
-
there is a saying that you are the company you keep, and i believe that, especially with the things that happened to me.
the company i kept before, while happy and fun, was undisciplined and, towards the end, not respectful of me. and so i lost all sense of value for myself. if only i could have left the barkada but still be close with the four i mentioned. at least i remained so with pol and marc, for the most part until this day. *sigh* sometimes you just have to do what's best for you, because in the end, it's your life you're living, not be a pawn to be played with in some other person's who won't care what happened to you one way or the other.
i credit my recovery from depression to the group of friends i found, and i've been with them for the past six years. they're not as fun or as wild as the previous ones, but i found that i was more suited to this kind of friendship. thoughtful, disciplined (though i'm still quite far from being this), and always cautious and considerate of others.
---
...which is why i feel half-guilty at being, not quite angry, but very, very disappointed, with two of my closest friends from that group.
i suspect they never meant any harm in doing what they did - but they still did it, knowing full well what it would have caused, and behind my back as well. i won't pretend i don't understand. if i really, really wanted to get that something, i'd have done the same - except i wouldn't, and to my credit, i haven't ever done this before, even to those friends that left me.
-
...which is precisely why i feel incredibly upset - because, once again, after everything we've been through, everything i've done, and everything they've done for me, our friendship is still not worth a little bit of decency and honesty, and certainly not worth at least the same as other's friendship - it's far below it.
i feel like an outsider, and that stings when you realize that, maybe, that's exactly what they feel about me.
maybe it's because i've had the misfortune of losing, and being forced to leave, a lot of relationships before, but i really, really felt the same kind of stab i felt more than six years ago.
maybe i left in this way because i know that the same thing is happening again, and i wanted them to at least feel some semblance of what i feel right now - to teach them an important lesson as a parting gift.
i do feel betrayed (again) though, and that's what's troubling me.
-
...but i'm not angry. i feel sad and disappointed, but i feel more like i have to do this as a way to repay them for all that they've given me, being some of the major reasons i'm still alive and all.
even friendships come and go, and we all take along a little bit of it - but in the end, it's us who decide what we give our friends when the time comes to drift away.