A person who has never experienced depression or anxiety will never understand those of us who suffer from it. Especially people who are very outgoing, love being the center of attention, who have a positive self image and high self esteem, and who love themselves above everyone else. I do not expect you to understand, but I expect you to respect the fact that it is a real illness with real symptoms that affect my every day life. It's incredibly disheartening to find out after twelve years of friendship, one of your so called good friends, really isn't that good of a friend at all. In fact, they are not that good of a person at all.
I always believed that I knew what my friends thought of me, understood my psychological problems and my anxiety, only to find out that they, in fact, do not. I thought true friends were the ones who stick with you through good times and bad times, especially when I was there for them during difficult times. But now that I am unable to work, receive temporary disability benefits while I attend counseling to get better, and currently live in a trailer park, they are too good for me.
Well, I hate to break this to you, but not all trailer parks are trashy. Not all people who live in trailer parks are trashy. It is an unfair stereotype, like when people use the term "puerto rican shower" when referring to a Hispanic person who uses too much perfume. It's rude, judgmental, and just plain wrong. My fiance, who works full time, and I are in the process of saving money so we can eventually buy a house, and living here gives us the opportunity to do so.
In retrospect, you and I being friends was quite strange because we are indeed polar opposites, with you being an extrovert and myself being an introvert, but I guess I was just a convenient babysitter for you. I was useful when you needed someone to help you move, or needed a shoulder to cry on when one of the fifty men you were dating at the time realized they could do better. It's just a shame that the one your with now hasn't realized this yet. But one day, when he is no longer ashamed of himself and his love of men, he will find his soul mate at a Bieber concert and will finally see everything he'd been missing all the years he wasted with you.
So the next time you feel the need to judge the way I'm living my life, remember that at one point you received food stamps, and you rely on your baby daddy to pay your rent.
No one can do it themselves. Sometimes, we all need a little help. I do not "get paid" to stay home and plan my wedding. In fact, there hasn't been any real planning done except for choosing the song. Not that I owe you any form of explanation, I just wanted to clarify. I do not wish for us to ever be friends. I do not wish to ever see or speak to you again, because I have absolutely no desire to be associated with someone like you.
I have learned from my mistake, and I will never repeat it.
So excuse me while I go work on myself to become a better person, while you continue to dig yourself into your shallow, materialistic, egotistical little hole where you think you're the center of the universe, and I'm over here like:
You are so insignificantly small.
Just like the rest of us.