Suicide is Painless

I never would have thought that this place would be worse for me than for others.  Well, I did.  I figured it would be terrible.  I figured we'd break up and I'd become a loner and get depressed and mess up every aspect of my life.  Which hasn't happened.  So I guess that's probably good.  But oddly enough, it's been worse for me than that.  At least that wouldn't make me a terrible person, it would just make me a misguided, antisocial, improperly raised, maladjusted individual.

But really, it's been worse for me than even them.  And I often go on about how bad it has been for them.  About their depressions, their problems, their habits, their thoughts.  And I sit here and think about how my life has turned around, how I'm not (as) depressed, how I have no bad habits left, not like that, how I've changed.  And it works rather well until I realize that I'm no better than that one person.

It's made me arrogant.  And caustic.  That's not me, that's just the way I've become here.  And certainly it's my own fault.  This place has made me believe that I'm better than everyone around me.  It's made me think that I am wonderful and excellent and everyone should realize that.  It's a worse form of adolescent egocentrism.  It's a grown up delusion, and this place has bred it into me.  I've let it.  I've used it to grow and thrive.  Because really, I've done well, I've "grown" as a person, if you want to put it that way.  I've also become absolutely intolerable.

And the more you try to tell me otherwise, the more intolerable I become.  You can hear it in my tone.  Stability makes me arrogant.  I pronounce words differently.  I speak out more.  I stop being afraid of interfering or being offensive.  And maybe at first that's a good thing for me, but I always wind up overstepping that line, which seems so imaginary and uncertain, but is really quite solidly there (although I can never place it with particular accuracy).

It gets to the point where I hate hearing myself talk, and that should tell you something, because I've always thought I had something worthwhile to say.  I wasn't like this when you met me.  I wasn't this harsh and cruel and bitter about the world.  I have to say, I was much better off turning that anger inward, toward me, than I ever will be trying to use it to propel myself forward.