It’s my turn. Don’t worry, it’s not my goal in life to hurt people. That’s not where I’m going with this. A bit ago, gimmemocha disappeared because she needed to. She went to the hospital, checked in, got new drugs, help, yada, yada. Me? I just need to disappear so I don’t tell everyone I know to fuck off. Oh the temptation is there. There are a lot of people who have been just pissing me off and playing hopscotch with lines that I’ve drawn. Yet, I won’t. Just a few.
Now, let’s discuss empathy. Sorry, I know some of you try, but there’s something you need to understand. You can’t. Normal people can’t empathize with us. You process things completely different.
Here’s the most important part about empathy. Sympathy, too. This is something I’ve been fairly vocal about most of my adult life. My pain is more important than yours. MY pain is more important than yours. And yet… Your pain is more important than mine. YOUR pain is more important than mine. That’s just it. People don’t realize. Everyone else’s pain is more important to them than yours. And it’s more painful, too. And you can’t imagine, or relate, or empathize. You can’t know what it feels like for me to get a paper cut, much less feel like my world is ending.
Why does any of this matter? Because I’m sick of people. It seems like for every person I can trust, there are three to five that I can’t. Paranoid? Possibly. But just because I’m paranoid… well, you know the rest of that sentence. So, as I’ve said before, gimmemocha disappeared, she’s good now, she’s back. Now it’s my turn to disappear. Granted, I’m not going into any hospitals. (Also, I’m not suicidal–since I apparently need to throw that disclaimer in there for a few fucktwats.) I just don’t WANT to deal with any more assholes right now. I’ll still get contact page messages, but otherwise, down periscope. *salutes* I’m out.