Recently, I was added to a group on Facebook for people who were involved in the bulletin board scene in my hometown; keep in mind that this was nearly 20 years ago. This was a huge portion of my life for a while, maybe lasting about 5 years, and I knew a lot of people back then. This was also the scene of some of my most humiliating memories.
I tried to get out of being in the group - quite a few times, actually. I removed myself 5 times. And somehow, I kept being added back, by different people, over and over again. I finally spoke with someone that convinced me that "it'll be okay, are you going to let what happened 20 years ago affect you", blah blah. I fucking hate it when people are logical. So this time I stayed. I haven't spoken one word in there (and so far don't plan to)... but I'm watching. Observing. Staying silent - for now.
What I'm seeing, so far, hasn't been much of a surprise. It's the same people, with the same malfunctions, only it's 20 years later and no one seems to have "grown up" too much. It's nice in some ways to see people that I've only wondered about for a long time - some really have matured and grown and they're leading happy lives, with partners and spouses and kids. For them, I'm happy. I wish them all the success in the world.
For others... it's the same sad dysfunction. Those people, I don't wish to get involved with again. It's not surprising that the sad dysfunction stems from the very people that had a direct hand in some of the bad things that have happened to me.
One of the topics that is being discussed in there right now is, "So, list all of the people you had sex with, I bet it'll be a six degrees of Kevin Bacon thing." You know, trying to be clever and witty and shit.
Like I REALLY want to go on that particular trip down memory lane. Who gives a shit? What fucking business is it of theirs, anyway? Yeah, okay, I had sex with a few people - so the fuck what?
This is the level of immaturity that some still have. Is it any wonder I asked to be removed, over and over?
I've grown up in 20 years, despite the depression, despite the abuse, despite the shit sandwiches that others have tried to make me swallow. It is nobody's business who I had inside of my body, regardless of how "fun" they try and make the topic. It's also nobody's business WHY I did the things I did, though I'll go ahead and tell you now - I did it all for the approval of people who, quite frankly, didn't deserve it or warrant the attention.
I was duped in a lot of situations, quite honestly - by one who took genuine feelings and used them as a platform for massive humiliation - and I had a couple of genuine (if short-lived) relationships that I still remember fondly. I had one massive crush on someone that never really knew I did (and that's because I was careful after being humiliated pretty much metro-wide). One relationship that slowly faded over time (and it's not one I remember fondly).
And that's it. Some "hot ticket", huh? At least everything I did in those days was motivated by wanting to actually love someone. What's their excuse? An itch to scratch?
This has not been a good week for me. I was NOT ready to confront the things that have happened in this portion of my life, and it's been very, very hard to read the writings of people I once knew on a somewhat intimate (well, as intimate as talking digitally over a telephone connection can be) basis. My mind has been racing a mile a minute over various memories. Some good, some horrific, some I just wish I could bury forever. I've been crying on and off for the last five days, because it's all coming back to me like a big fucking pile of sick. And I'm resentful that I'm being forced to confront it now, at a time when my life is pretty much set - graduation in 4 months, Greg and I thinking seriously about getting married, etc. This had to come into my life now, like a big piece of shit that just won't flush away. Great timing, thanks so much.
So there's the answer to one of the "burning" questions everyone wanted to know. Yes, I whored around in those days, and I DID it all for your approval, which I never ended up getting in the first place. Happy now?
Fuck everyone that's ever hurt me. Just... fuck them all. Oh, wait, but I DID that already, right?
I'm going to go buy some stock in Kimberly-Clark now, you know, the makers of Kleenex. Because I have a feeling that I'm going to need it for a while.
You may ask yourself at this point why I stay in the group. I don't really know. Maybe because I'm waiting for an apology that will never come. Just like I did with the latest Douchebag - it seems that I don't learn my lesson very well. I guess when I get tired of the self-abuse, I'll leave, I have no idea. Since I'm being forced, more or less, to confront this shit now, maybe it's just as well. My life is set - I have a great life. No one is going to take that from me.
Over my dead fucking body.
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