Cleaning house

And I am. And I have been. I've been cleaning for days. My house, my life. It's slow going, because things have been pretty dirty. And scrubbing through the layers has taken quite a bit of time. Good thing I have spare time, right?

When I got back from Bakersfield, I found some things broken that weren't when I left, and I ended up angry. There are quarters missing from my jar, which made me angry again. That's my OCD compulsion jar, the thing I use when I'm freaking out, and the fact that it's short makes me very angry indeed, because that jar never gets used for spending. In fact, the only reason I had grabbed it was to add to it, because I had gone through the spare change in my room, and when I realized that there were quarters missing, it both freaked me out and made me mad. So now I have nothing to compulsively count and sort and I don't know what to do.

My earlier blog referenced the fact that I'll be cutting ties with the drama in my life. This is true, and that cutting will indeed be taking place. I have tried very hard to balance a great many things. I have been making excuses and ending up frustrated and crying repeatedly, because I wasn't willing to let go of things and people who kept hurting me, simply because I wanted them too much to walk away. I have been making every excuse under the sun to keep hold of things that hurt me. I was simply a convenience in their lives, something that made their lives easier, while mine was painful. Broken promises. Tears and heartbreak and misery. And while everyone else who loved me noticed and was angry on my behalf...the actual problem never actually acknowledged their wrongdoing. It was never a problem for *them*, because honestly, I never actually mattered, I don't think. When confronted, yes, I'd get an apology of sorts, for a while. But I'm easily forgotten, and I know it.

We go 'round and 'round. And I'm honestly just tired of the merry-go-round. Even something as mundane as keeping their word about making a phone call, can't be bothered. And I'm just tired of it. I deserved better than that. I *deserve* better than that, even from a friend. I've heard over and over that no matter what, I'd not be abandoned, because I mattered too much. But none of the actions match the words. And at this point, I no longer trust the words. Words matter. Actions matter. And I'm finished now.

I told myself I'd never allow things to get so far that all I did was cry. And I hit that point, and now it's over. When I stopped being happy, it was time for it to end. I refuse to be caught in the middle of some sick twisted game, where I'm a pawn to get something else. I refuse to be in the middle of anything at all. And I refuse to keep crying and wondering and waiting for something that hurts me. I've always been stronger than that.

I'll miss my friend. He knows where to find me.

Listening to: Let her cry - Hootie and the Blowfish