I had to do it - break into the 200 mark. Yay!! 200 posts of whiny existentialism and bullcrap.
Anyway, last night I hungout with some good people. But I have to say - seeing a friend struggling with self-esteem issues/depression and whatnot is really rough, especially because I can empathize because I used to struggle (and still do to a certain extent) with the same things. And that sucks. But it also makes me cherish my friendships and makes me want to cultivate them moreso than I do.
In pseudo-related news - my righthand middle finger knuckle feels fucked up. As if I punched something last night. Like a wall. I do that when I have emotions I need to get out. The last night we all went out in Budepest, we saw a guy beating up his girlfriend. We broke up the fight, but they left together. Cops never came. Fucked up situation all around. I went home. I was drunk, started crying a bit because that entire clusterfuck of a situation really got to me. Angry tears mixed with sad tears. Angry because I wanted to fucking curbstomp that scumbag, but didn't/couldn't. Sad because there was really nothing I could do. I stood in the bathroom, drunkcrying, and punched the wall as hard as I could. For the next 3 weeks, my hand/righthand middlefinger knuckle was messed up. It was both the smartest and dumbest thing I could have done. Smart because in that moment, I released a lot of tensionemotion and converted it into something I could focus on. Dumb because...what did it really prove? Oh yeah, I'm so tough, I can punch a fucking wall but not that fucking piece of shit who slammed his girlfriend's head into a brick wall. Way to go me! It was basically catharsis for dummies.
I still think about that night. What I could have done. What I did. What I didn't do.
I'll never hit a woman. Like, not to sound like patriarchal/chauvinist, but women deserve to be treated with respect (guys do also). I'm not saying I'm looking to start a fight with a dude, but sometimes, you gotta punch a motherfucker. But a woman...you just don't do that.
A year+ after the fact, that shit still eats me up some nights.
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i just wanted to grab her and say, "get out!" why did she go home with him? i'm just frustrated and angry and sick for her. i hate when people feel impossibly stuck in such relationships, whether they're physically, mentally, emotionally abusive....i know this is one of those things that stuck with you (and always will) from our semester. thanks for posting, paulnak.
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