basilmemories (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
basilmemories) wrote2010-02-24 05:43 am
basilmemories) wrote2010-02-24 05:43 am
A note on jealousy:
I really wonder just how bad a person I am for constantly being jealous of my friends.
It’s not their looks (though I do wish I looked different), or their intelligence (and I wish I was smart enough that my friends would stop treating me like an idiot sometimes), but it’s their standard of living.
Yes I’m going to mention situations, but not names, so hopefully this won’t blow anyone’s cover. The truth of the matter is I’ve nearly written this post about a dozen times in the past, but each time I talked myself out of it and just stuffed my feelings about it down. At this point though just thinking about one of the comments a friend said awhile back has me nearly seeing red, so I recognize that it’s not healthy and I need to vent.
Perhaps it’s all the people who I’ve been exposed to lately, but whenever one of my middle-class friends complains about their life I want to reach across the internet and shake them like a rag doll, screaming “YOU FUCKER. DO YOU HAVE ANY GOD DAMN IDEA HOW GOOD YOUR LIFE IS?” These are the people who complain about not being able to buy a six-hundred dollar doll, or how they can’t splurge for the car with the leather seats, or how they won’t be able to have as much play money now that so-and-so has moved out.
They have warm houses with loving family. They have healthcare, dental coverage, and they can fucking see past 20 feet. Their parents could afford to send them to colleges and own (or mortgage) their own houses. Their parents can bail them out if they fall on hard times. They don’t have to rely on public transportation for everything. They can get good food without feeling buyer’s remorse a second later. They can afford pets. They can go to museums and cultural events without their parents and/or family screaming that they’ve used the food money for that.
They don’t get told things like “It’ll be 800$ to finish the root canal we started a month ago.” They don’t have to deal with things like walking down to a small health clinic at eight in the morning while either being hit on, or spit at while being called a fag. Their doctors and dentists will smile and act polite to them, while mine will tell me that yes, we know you only make 5k a year, but we’re not sure what we can do...
They’re the people who act surprised when I tell them what the dentist said to me (despite them acknowledging that they read my blog), and then say they’ll “keep me in their thoughts.” I wonder if they know how it really sounds when they say things like, “Well I’d help, but I have this policy about...” I know I’m a deadbeat, thanks. There’s a part of me that wants to say, “So does your fiscal policy end before or after I wind up in the hospital?” Because most of all I want to be treated like a person instead of a financial risk. I put up the little donate button ages ago, but as far as I can remember I didn’t go around PMing anybody for spare change. Yeah did I mooch off of my friends for food? Yes, but I know that I don’t want to burden anybody with that much. Moreover, I don’t like even owing that much. I already owe a good friend 150-180$, I owe 50$ to another friend, and 65$ more to the person from the con last year. Even if I didn’t have this problem going on, that’s at the higher limit of what I can pay back in a reasonable time.
Then there’s my friends from all social classes who say those kind of things, but then do something to support me. A long while ago a good friend told me “we get it, your life is hard.” She’d been going through some shit herself and I thought that I gave her enough space. But the moment I really had to say something she went and said that. She’s been supportive in her own way, but it hurt like nothing else. I should be over it by now, but it still stings a bit.
Last week I found myself angry at myself, angry at my friends, wandering SF, and thinking about stupid things. I thought about how my boss says I should pity the people who used to be middle class or rich, and I just wanted to crack him across the face. Those people still have an advantage over the people who’ve been poor longer. They had proper medical care and more belongings they can sell off. I remembered the douche in the restaurant who said that poor people “liked” living where they lived. I wanted to grind that piglike mug into the table when he said the government already gave the poor too much.
Tomorrow I have a interview. I’m going to walk in and charm the heck out of the bosses and hopefully get something. I’m going to be the best person for that job and I’ll get out of this job where my co-workers sexually harass me.
-And if I don’t get the job, I don’t even fucking know anymore.
It’s not their looks (though I do wish I looked different), or their intelligence (and I wish I was smart enough that my friends would stop treating me like an idiot sometimes), but it’s their standard of living.
Yes I’m going to mention situations, but not names, so hopefully this won’t blow anyone’s cover. The truth of the matter is I’ve nearly written this post about a dozen times in the past, but each time I talked myself out of it and just stuffed my feelings about it down. At this point though just thinking about one of the comments a friend said awhile back has me nearly seeing red, so I recognize that it’s not healthy and I need to vent.
Perhaps it’s all the people who I’ve been exposed to lately, but whenever one of my middle-class friends complains about their life I want to reach across the internet and shake them like a rag doll, screaming “YOU FUCKER. DO YOU HAVE ANY GOD DAMN IDEA HOW GOOD YOUR LIFE IS?” These are the people who complain about not being able to buy a six-hundred dollar doll, or how they can’t splurge for the car with the leather seats, or how they won’t be able to have as much play money now that so-and-so has moved out.
They have warm houses with loving family. They have healthcare, dental coverage, and they can fucking see past 20 feet. Their parents could afford to send them to colleges and own (or mortgage) their own houses. Their parents can bail them out if they fall on hard times. They don’t have to rely on public transportation for everything. They can get good food without feeling buyer’s remorse a second later. They can afford pets. They can go to museums and cultural events without their parents and/or family screaming that they’ve used the food money for that.
They don’t get told things like “It’ll be 800$ to finish the root canal we started a month ago.” They don’t have to deal with things like walking down to a small health clinic at eight in the morning while either being hit on, or spit at while being called a fag. Their doctors and dentists will smile and act polite to them, while mine will tell me that yes, we know you only make 5k a year, but we’re not sure what we can do...
They’re the people who act surprised when I tell them what the dentist said to me (despite them acknowledging that they read my blog), and then say they’ll “keep me in their thoughts.” I wonder if they know how it really sounds when they say things like, “Well I’d help, but I have this policy about...” I know I’m a deadbeat, thanks. There’s a part of me that wants to say, “So does your fiscal policy end before or after I wind up in the hospital?” Because most of all I want to be treated like a person instead of a financial risk. I put up the little donate button ages ago, but as far as I can remember I didn’t go around PMing anybody for spare change. Yeah did I mooch off of my friends for food? Yes, but I know that I don’t want to burden anybody with that much. Moreover, I don’t like even owing that much. I already owe a good friend 150-180$, I owe 50$ to another friend, and 65$ more to the person from the con last year. Even if I didn’t have this problem going on, that’s at the higher limit of what I can pay back in a reasonable time.
Then there’s my friends from all social classes who say those kind of things, but then do something to support me. A long while ago a good friend told me “we get it, your life is hard.” She’d been going through some shit herself and I thought that I gave her enough space. But the moment I really had to say something she went and said that. She’s been supportive in her own way, but it hurt like nothing else. I should be over it by now, but it still stings a bit.
Last week I found myself angry at myself, angry at my friends, wandering SF, and thinking about stupid things. I thought about how my boss says I should pity the people who used to be middle class or rich, and I just wanted to crack him across the face. Those people still have an advantage over the people who’ve been poor longer. They had proper medical care and more belongings they can sell off. I remembered the douche in the restaurant who said that poor people “liked” living where they lived. I wanted to grind that piglike mug into the table when he said the government already gave the poor too much.
Tomorrow I have a interview. I’m going to walk in and charm the heck out of the bosses and hopefully get something. I’m going to be the best person for that job and I’ll get out of this job where my co-workers sexually harass me.
-And if I don’t get the job, I don’t even fucking know anymore.