cly on Collarspace

2/1/2010 9:05:43 PM

Had a chat with a co-worker (J) of mine over drama. We both have serious relationship drama going on, so we take turns listening and talking. He'll tell me his woes and I give him what comfort I can, then I'll tell him my woes and listen to him make some smartass WoW joke out of it and tell me to smoke another cigarette (I only smoke one once a day, IF that). That's how men and women differ. Even happened during a violent wrestling session at another guy friend's (M) house, where I beat him so bad he was rolling around on the ground crying about pissing blood, and I asked if he was ok so he threw my wallet at me and smacked me on the side of my head, then chased me down and well... the bathroom was not as safe a hiding place as I thought, lol. And walmart clothes rip too easy. But besides that, dramaless partners don't exist, and J and I have discovered it's simply a matter of how you handle the baggage. Neither of us are depressed, and we do our best to only confide in each other about our problems. We don't get greedy with "My problem is worse than yours..." and that's what makes it work. "Here's my problem, you say 'awwww,' now tell me your problem and I'll just smack you on the side of the head and we'll both laugh." My other partners (J is not a 'partner,' just to make that clear) know only a tiny bit of my drama, just enough so they know I'm human too, and I know some of theirs. But we don't cry over it, or expect sympathy. Sympathy and understanding are two entirely different things. I just want a person to know I'm really stressed out, so if I accidentally throw a small fit over something cause my nerves just snapped, back off and let me chill. It happens to all of us, to the strongest of us, even those whose ego is so huge and blinding they can't see it, we all snap, and there doesn't need to be sympathy, just understanding of why and a little leeway to make stupid mistakes because of it. But then again... no pity for self inflicted wounds.

Depression is self inflicted, I know because I was depressed and then realized it took too much effort to be depressed and stopped. I don't believe in "bipolarism" or "PMS" and I don't believe in "clinical depression induced by hormones," or whatever BS people can come up with. We are humans; we control our bodies, thoughts, and emotions, not the other way. Instinct is different, but that's for another time. Anyways, I'm falling asleep at the computer, I should crawl into bed, after I bribe the cats to move ("LOOK! Catnip! ....Oh shit!" *runs*) and dream of far happier things than my job, divorce, and lack of a committed mate. Friends with benefits may be fun... but I'm starting to see red and that is not fun!