Rejection Depression

Abandon:

verb

cease to support or look after (someone); desert
____________________
Also known as 'to reject'... 'devalue'... 'to give up on'... 'to be better off without'... 'to feel no moral obligation towards'...


My life feels like one big instance of abandonment; a game to see how much I can withstand. The feeling of building a connection with someone, be it over days or weeks or years, only to have them walk away without ever looking back, is a feeling that cant be described. The sense of rejection and lack of value that I feel is so immense that it overwhelms me and sucks the breath right out of me. I feel so unwanted and I hate knowing that the impact I make on people is so disposable.

Andy:
You gave me life; you created me. You know how to reach me and you choose not to. I am your only daughter and possibly your only child. Am I not worth getting to know? Do you not remember what it was like to hold me on the day I was born and to watch me learn to roll over and sit up? Do none of those memories matter?

Marvin:
You were the only father I knew as a young child. You took me Trick or Treating. You held me in the waiting room as my brother, your son, was born. I visited you in the AA facility every Saturday and you wrote me letters to read at bedtime since you couldn't tuck me in. You grieved with us... and then you disappeared. Do you not ever wonder who I turned in to; whether I lived or died?

Tom:
You promised the moon and the stars to me; you used to tell me how special and important I was. You helped me build my first tree house, you used to help me pick out my dress for church every Sunday and you came to all of my school functions. You were such an asshole but I was a child that looked up to you for so many years. You had your own children and I knew you would never see me as the same but before you took your last breath this year, did you ever question what became of the little girl you helped raise? Death made it easier for you but you walked away years ago and never looked back.

Bob:
You were around for everything; high school graduation, buying my house, family vacations and other milestones. You treated me like the princess who held your heart and used to bring me coffee at work just to have an excuse to visit. You would call me for gift advice and we had sneaky little secrets that made me laugh. You used to go out of your way to do whatever it took to make me happy and then you disappeared. You don't know anything that is going on in my life. You don't care how I am doing. How did I go from being one of the most important people in your life to being a distant memory?

Becky:
You are the friend who has known me the longest. You've been in my life since 1st grade and you went out of your way over the years to make sure our friendship stood the test of time. I was your shoulder to cry on and you were my source of laughter and strength. You gave me the best gift I could have ever asked for in the world when I got to look into those beautiful eyes after hours of patiently waiting for Madelyn to be born. Just seeing her smile or hearing her voice was enough to brighten my day regardless of whatever else had taken place. She stole my entire heart and I loved you for allowing me to be a part of her life. Then you left and you took her with you. After so many years and with so much history, you abruptly slammed the door shut on our friendship with no hesitation or looking back.

Heather:
You are the friend who knows me the best. You know things about me and relationships that no one else does. You shared things with me that no one else will ever know and I cherished those moments of trust so much. I relied on you for emotional and mental support, while offering the same. I supported you in times when it felt like the world was against you because I had faith in your ability to know what needed to happen in your life. You walked out on me at a time when I needed you most. You chose a guy over me, based on a huge misunderstanding, but you made it look so easy to cut me out of your life. No apologies, no expression of regret, nothing. Just silence... and because of that, I am missing out on your wedding and your future.

B:
You are the hardest reality to face. You abandoned me completely; mentally, physically and emotionally. We were there for each other through so much stuff over so many years. We experienced things together that I wouldn't wish on anyone else. We were both so broken but together we provided support. You walked out on me, leaving me to clean up the mess you created. But - that wasn't enough. You came back, broke me into a million pieces, and then walked out again. You took every weakness and insecurity that you knew about me and you used it against me. You shattered me. How can you do that to someone that you loved? How can you harm the person that has saved you time and time again? Why would you want to pull me under the current with you, just because you weren't able to keep your own head above water? Did I really offer that little value to you and to your life? Did you not feel any moral obligation to protect me from the storm you created, after I sheltered you and bailed you out of so much over the years? You never looked back; you don't know where I'm at or what I'm doing. You left behind responsibilities that you take no ownership of. You left me and you built a whole new life with no regard for mine.


Why am I so easy to walk away from? What am I doing that not only gives people the ability to simply turn their backs on me but to also prosper once doing so? Here I am sitting and crying and thinking about all the people in my past when none of them have given a single thought about me. This is why I get so upset about broken friendships or loss of acquaintances; it's just another example of someone making a conscious decision to completely remove me from their life. The only person who has stayed in my life for any significant amount of time is someone who doesn't see or talk to me on a regular basis; he is there when I need him and vice versa but it's not a daily or even weekly occurrence. I cant help but to think that has something to do with his ability to withstand me for this long though, I believe that if questioned, he would be forced to admit that I offer no true value to his life. I just exist... and when people are tired of me existing, they delete me from their lives and move on. It's that simple apparently.

Phase 5

You've put me back in that place I came from. You've reminded me how it feels to cry and question my own sanity. With your words you crumbled my impression of you and my belief in myself. I'm comfortable there; comfortable feeling like I've done something wrong. I'm familiar with the feeling of wrongdoing, simply for standing up for myself when someone treats me like crap. It's always been my fault before, why should that change? Instead of taking ownership for your actions and how they cause others to feel, it's easier to deflect your anger onto me... making me the enemy. I become the psychotic crazy female who thinks she knows everything and who can never be wrong. Am I really lucky enough to just keep welcoming this kind of person into my life or am I really the problem like they've made me believe? I've tried to convince myself that I'm not that person he told me I was... that I am more than just a 'fat, salt-and-peppered face lazy bitch that no one likes'. I had almost began to believe that I was. I know I'm blunt and to the point; I speak my mind. I'm also a human, with emotions and feelings. Why should it be ok for you to say and do whatever you want, with no regard for others, but when I call you out on it, I'm the one at fault? Maybe I am the monster he said I was... a monster he created.

Escape Route

I've made so many memories in this town. There are so many moments I wish I could forget, bottled inside the invisible lines that divide this town from the rest of the world. Even moments that took place outside of this county began and ended in this town. I cant turn a corner without seeing a shadow left behind by a moment that once existed. I want to be free of memories, free of things and places that trigger an explosion of smoke in my already foggy brain. I cant breathe in this town; its as if my former life has consumed all of the oxygen that was intended for me to survive on. I'm choking, suffocating. I want to be in a place where my brain cant connect the dots of what once was... a place filled with newness. I want new sights, new experiences, new people, new air. I want to be excited to explore instead of living in a constant state of anxiety and panic. Where do I go? How far away from a flame is far enough to feel the warmth without being burned? The people that matter to me are here, buried somewhere beneath the ashes left by those who don't. How far can I run, without ending up cold and alone, with nothing familiar? How far can I run?

Gross National Happiness Index

I'm eating Cheetos and drinking beer, like your sad ex-lover. I'm crying over her captions and fixating on your photos that capture the same life we had but with a modified cast. I've been so focused on your comings and goings that I've forgotten to keep moving myself. Social media is a daily reminder of everything I'm missing; a path of circles that I get lost in. It is also my door to world; a means of justifying my existence to the single or several strangers that choose to watch. Just within hours of deactivation, the colors of myself seem to fade without an audience to impress. There's no one but myself to pass judgement on, no one else to compare my life to, no one to water the flower that is my ego. With nothing else to fixate on, I'm forced to look within for acceptance and to focus on my own choices. I chose this path willingly but I'm scared to be alone on my island. I fear the thoughts that I've made room for and I worry that the isolation is framework for failure.

Crash and Burn

You returned to the scene of the crime. You committed murder and ran, only to return to do it again. Was I not already dead enough? Was it psychologically pleasing to return to see the chaos you had created? Perhaps you, being the psychopath that you are, saw your crime as a work of art that needed to be admired. Without empathy or a sense of remorse, you were an arsonist who came back to watch the fire- the fire that you started- burn me to the ground. Just as my ashes had begun to disburse into the wind, you swept them up and rebuilt 'us'. You created a false sense of stability and integrity in the composition of my soul... leading me to believe I had been reconstructed to be stronger and more sturdy than ever. I should have recognized that the foundation was built on muddied water. I should have known that the remnants of what was left of my heart could not support the load that would be hoisted upon it. When I crumbled once again, the dust was too fine to capture. I can not be rebuilt.

Shambles

Whether it's religious beliefs or the alignment of the stars, people always have a way of explaining and justifying the idea of cause and effect in life. For some, your actions determine the events that occur in your life. If you are a dick, dick things happen to you. For others, the world spins on an axis that is not altered or affected by your decisions; what is destined to happen will happen. I don't actually know what I believe but I think it is best described as some combination of karma and divine intervention. I can apply this to others' lives; you annoy the fuck out of me so it makes sense that bad things happen to you. In my own life though, I can't figure it out. I don't understand why it feels like I'm constantly being shit on, when I don't feel like a shitty person. I believe I am a good friend, a loyal person, a hard worker, an honest human being.. yet I am continuously hurt, abandoned and seemingly punished. I committed myself entirely to two different 'best friends' in life, both of who were able to completely cut me of out of their lives, and the lives of their families, overnight. I was a grateful and appreciative granddaughter. I was a protective and proud older sister. I can no longer play those roles anymore and it feels as if I was deemed unfit or unable to fulfill the duties, thus the opportunity was taken away. I loved with all of my heart and gave all of myself that I knew how to give, only to learn that it was all a farce. I feel unlovable; unable to love.  Maybe I'm a dick.

Across the Miles

It was 3:27am and every possible thought there was to think was floating through my mind, purposeless. Amidst all of the worry and fear and self loathing, I kept going back to how lucky I am to have someone in my life that understands me. 

Although it defies all logic, you understand my thoughts better than even I do. Despite my lack of rationality and my extreme judgements towards things that are foreign to me, you know exactly what I am thinking and why. Without having to explain myself, you decipher my words... you can tell the difference between my real and fake smile by a simple photo...you can hear the whole story within the tone of my voice, even when I cant bring myself to tell it. I don't know how you do it, and at times I hate that you have such abilities, but I am lucky to have you as my voice of sanity and reason. I am thankful to have someone that says the things I need to hear, whether I want to hear them or not. You remind me often of the person that I am, despite the definition that I have been led to believe by others. You make me feel beautiful; a feat no one else in my life has ever accomplished. 

What makes you so different? Why do you remember the things I said during drunken conversations 13 years ago? Why do you believe in me in ways no one else ever has? Why are you able to see the side of me that I try so hard to show others, without success? Most of all, unlike every other person, why have you not yet abandoned me? You are the voice in the back of my head that makes me push forward on days when I'm ready to give up. The insurmountable joy I feel when you tell me you are proud of me encourages me to be strong when I feel weak. I know that I do not fulfill any of the same needs in your life, partly because we do not share the same voids, but I like to think one day there will be some way that I can be there for you as much as you have been for me. I don't know what I did to deserve to have such a gracious and loving person in my life, and I'm not always sure that I have earned it, but I am forever grateful. 

I know you believe that you understand all the ways that I think but knowing the full extent of how much you mean to me may be the one rare thought that you will never truly be able to grasp. 

Forever and always, thank you.

Monotony

Do you ever get to a point when reading a book where you decide to just skip ahead a few pages... pages it seems like the author should have just left out all together? One moment things are exploding and bad guys are being chased and amazing earth shattering sex is occurring... and then suddenly the author is describing the view of the sunset and the taste of steaming coffee on the balcony on a blustery winter Tuesday. "Get to the good stuff!" you yell, as you toss the book aside, bored by the monotony. 

I feel like that is where I am in my life. My days come and go, with narrative about the happenings around me and nothing more. I wake and admire the sounds of the birds and the scampering of the bunnies on my morning jog.. I go to work and complain about the annoying tendencies of coworkers and the moaning sound of the coffee maker... I sit on my couch and watch the hummingbirds feed in the evenings while I eat frozen dinners in my underwear. The world is spinning around me but my life feels as if it has halted. Perhaps I've seen too many movies or have a distorted view of reality but it seems that this is the point in my existence where love should happen; life should happen. 

Why cant I be that girl that answers a wrong-number phone call, only to end up chatting up the stranger on the other line and falling head over heels? When will it be my turn to turn the corner and ram my buggy into a cute and eligible bachelor in the cookie aisle of the grocery store? If nothing else, I feel like this is the part of the story where I should have committed a heinous crime and am contemplating where to run to and what to name myself. None of that is happening. After spending over a decade of my life with someone with whom reality television and chicken fingers was our greatest common denominator, I am ready for the life I deserve. I should be having drinks after work at a rooftop bar or gathering around the grill on the weekend with the love of my life and all of our friends. I want to be the cute couple that rents a beach house with our other pairs of acquaintances and gets together for doggy play-dates at the local park. 

It feels as if once the scene is set for something exciting and interesting to happen, the author starts scribbling out words and eventually balls up the page, tossing it into the nearby wastebasket. While I understand the need for character and theme development, which are imperative to a good story, I cant help but to yell "Get to the good stuff!" with every passing day.