Blog it out. Part 2.

Reasons why I’m depressed, in somewhat chronological order:

1.  B. R. B. (Yes, his initials are BRB. Oddly coincidental. Huh.) For the very few of you who don’t know (or don’t claim to know) everything about this, here’s the brief version. Or at least, the briefest possible. I’d had a crush on B. since early sophomore year. At the end of sophomore year, he started dating my very best friend. Drama ensued, but he and I became friends. At least, I thought we had. He later claimed he was only friends with me because he was dating her, but I think he was just trying to piss me off. Anyway, he later broke up with my best friend to date my middle school best friend’s younger sister. But when he broke up with my best friend, he said it was because he felt like he was pulling us (me and my best friend) apart. After this, my best friend calls me and says she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. This was the first time I actually tried to kill myself. But that’s not important to the story.

So my best friend hates me, B’s dating someone else that I know, and no offense to her, but she was a total bitch to him. (I only say that, cause she’ll admit it.) Basically she couldn’t handle his emotional baggage, and so she dealt with him by being a bitch to him.

So, she breaks up with him, he spirals into major depression, keeps threatening to kill himself, blah blah blah. (It may seem like I’m taking this lightly, but I’m kind of used to it all by now, so it’s really just a normal part of life for me).

Then comes the day when B decides he’s going to climb up on the roof of the school, intending to jump off. And of course, I get to be the one who realizes something’s amiss, and the only one who sees him climbing up. All I have to say is, thank god for Will and Josh. Anyway, they ran to get help, and I decided to follow him up in hopes of getting him to come back down. However, he’s a 6’3″ heavyset drummer, and I’m a foot shorter with no arm muscles to speak of. Needless to say, I fell down, tore my jeans, and didn’t manage to get up. Then I hear screaming, so I instinctively run over to the noise, and see him standing on the edge of the roof. The screaming was basically a bunch of kids yelling “Don’t jump, don’t do it,” etc. I pushed my way through the front of the crowd and stood there, long after they’d moved everyone else to the gym, long after they told me to leave. I just stood there, staring at him, pleading with everything I had in me for him not to do this. I stood there, until he finally looked down at me and told me to go. I cried for hours, and this pushed me into major depression for most of the rest of my junior year, just when I’d finally started getting better.

I can’t even explain how painful and hard it was to watch someone you cared for very much nearly take their own life. I hope no one ever has to go through it. It sucks.

So, B transfered to another high school, started dating some other girl, and I didn’t see him for months.

Then he broke up with this girl, and we started talking again. This one day he texts me and asks me if I’d consider having sex with him. Me, being a stupid naive little girl, took this to mean that he liked me. So, I ended up having sex with him, wrote about it in what was supposed to be a private blog that somehow ended up posting to my facebook account, and spent the last half of my senior year being laughed at, made fun of, and basically living in hell on earth.

And the best part was, a week after telling me that he wanted to date me, he called me to inform me he was going out with another girl and he never wanted to talk to me again. Hurt much? Oh yeah.

And the also best part was how he made everyone believe that I lied about it, that the blog was fake. And people still believe that. His girlfriend believes it, my ex-best friend believes it, and sometimes I wonder if he might even believe it.

I should also point out that before B, I was a virgin. So I lost my virginity to a boy that denied it, later told me he was using me for sex and didn’t even find me attractive, and broke my heart.

I can’t entirely blame him. I knew his track record. I knew he was an asshole. I guess I was so desperate to be wanted, or at least to believe that someone would actually want me, that I ignored all the obvious signs. But that still doesn’t make what he did any less painful.

So I think it’s safe to say that I’m still reeling over that. My heart still aches when I think about it, or him.

2. On top of the above, there’s the normal ish that comes along with the major changes that come with starting college. I’m lucky that my fam’s only across town, or I don’t even know what I’d do. There’s all this sudden, added pressure of being “an adult” and having to take care of myself and considering the fact that I’m a disorganized mess, this is hard as hell.

3. I quite honestly don’t have any close friends. I have tons of acquaintances, but no friends. I’m too scared to get close to anyone, cause I can’t take getting hurt again. So I don’t really have anyone to open up to. Obviously, or I wouldn’t even be posting this. So I’m kind of on my own with all this. Not that I necessarily want to rely on another person, cause they always get sick of my pessimistic bullshit and that’s that.

4. I’m sick of dealing with all of the above, and more than anything I’m sick of myself. I feel like I’m supposed to be happy now that I’m in college and I’m free. But I’m not a party-girl, I have yet to find more than one person that shares any of my interests and will actually talk to me, and I’m pretty sure the first guy I’ve managed to like that isn’t B is only interested in cute, preppy sorority girls.

There might be some other stuff, but that’s mainly it.

So the question is: What the fuck do I do now?