I spent the weekend in the company of an older male friend of mine who I now realize negged the shit out of me for two straight days. He negged my current hair, my hairline, my athletic ability, my mountaineering experience, my taste in cuisine, my use of a smartphone, my ability to help friends with English as a second language, my educational qualifications, and I’m sure a bunch of other stuff I’ve forgotten. It was in every single conversation and most of the time I spoke. Every time, it elicited further conversation to defend myself and often the standard deflect-through-gentle-humor-that-could-be-construed-as-flirting.

And I didn’t even fucking notice that that was what was happening. It really only clunked with me when I was halfway home in the car. How did I miss that? I listen to the Guilty Feminist, for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, I also realized just how shitty it makes me feel. I’m usually pretty good about not hanging out with toxic people and obvs it’s been awhile since I was in the dating scene, so I had sort of been able to forget just how exhausting it is to be constantly on the back foot like that.

Changing the subject slightly, I think that might be the straw that broke the camel’s back and sent it careening into horse traffic. Over the last four weeks or so, I’ve had a series of failings happen between me and a different close friend every time. (One threw me under the bus about a professional matter, or rather let the bus run over me, and I had to do the heavy lifting for her. Another met a man and went from being the most reliable and organized person I know to breaking plans and keeping my housekeys in a hot minute. Yet another set me up for the most epic miscommunication that made her son and I both mutually make each other feel absolutely terrible, and then both have since made me feel responsible for it.) Objectively it looks like bad luck, but equally objectively, statistically that says I probably suck a lot as a person. It also kind of undermined my trust in just about every single one of my close friends. Then after this epic negging weekend, all of herr honk’s foibles about refusing to make plans and about not giving me compliments and about only telling me things that need fixed just sort of... added up with the other stuff and coalesced into me having that sort of brutal realization* that I’m just not good enough to do anything worthwhile and wouldn’t it be better for all involved if I didn’t exist? (With the respect due herr honk, he was also super supportive when I quit my job las week, and all foibles mentioned are ones I know and usually deal with very well. I was just depleted.) As a result, I’ve just hit that depression wall where I suddenly am not dealing with my shit anymore. About 90% of the time I can keep the demon at bay through endorphins, distractions, and future plans, but when suddenly that fails, I can’t seem to muster the energy or attention to enact any of that. All I want to do is sleep but whoooo fun, I also get insomnia. So, joy of joys, let’s sit and stare at this fog of numb pointless existence.

Anyway, life is shit. But I’m still glad I quit my job. That, at least, was a good decision.

*objectively not a realization or genuine logic. subjectively, unassailable Vulcan logic.