Him...

Yet another horrible day today. **sigh** These days all the days seem horrible to me. I suppose that it is just really a side effect of the depression and not that the days are really horrible, just that I perceive them as horrible.

Tomato. Tomato.

Yesterday was horrible too. There really isnt anything that really shows itself as a cause. If I were a normal person, it would have just been a regular day. I did a stupid mistake at work, which did not really mess up anything; it just added an extra hour or so of work. I didnt even have to stay late or anything.

I guess that I just read too much into people and their moods. Of course, I see everything as if it relates to me. Of course the girl that sits next to me at work is crabby because I must have done something to piss her off. And then I spend the rest of the day (or next few days) trying to figure out what I could have done. Sometimes, it has nothing to do with me at all; other times, it does.

Of course, today, I am convinced that she is pissed off at me. I am probably right. The evidence suggests so. But whatever. I should not really be so focused on what other people think of me, and I should be more focused on getting done what I need to get done. That is what I tell myself. And that is why I mostly spend the day with my iPod on tuning out the world. And of course, everyone else sees me as cranky or bitchy or angry or whatever. The music is saving me and them from the real me.

Anyway, yesterday, I was finished with what I wanted to get done at work early, so I left at 4pm. So what? Today, I was done around 2pm, and I was just getting more and more pissed off. Partly, I was just in a foul mood most of the day. Partly, I hate a lot of the people at work. I probably could have come up with some more things to do to fill out my afternoon, but why bother? I texted my friend that is moving away in less than two weeks, and he came and picked me up and we went shopping. I just had to get the fuck out of there.

So, we are driving out of my work area, and I look up while stopped at a red light. And you know who is crossing the street right in front of my mother fucking car? Mother fucking Oron! What the fuck? It was all I could do to stop myself from running him down with my car.

So the nice spontaneous shopping trip was tainted by seeing Oron and over-analyzing the whole 10 second thing in the back of my mind the whole time. What was he doing there? Why was he at my work? Was he there to see me? Did he see me in my car? Did he think that my friend was my boyfriend? Why wasnt he at work at 230pm on a Tuesday? Why did I have to leave at that exact moment? Five minutes earlier or five minutes later, I would have missed him. Did I walk by him on the sidewalk on the way to the car without even realizing it?

All this is then followed by the anger. Anger at him for being a shitty human being. Anger at me for being with him for a year. And then, of course, anger at myself for still being angry. Think about it. I was seeing him from February 2006 to January 2007. IT HAS BEEN THREE FUCKING YEARS!!! What the hell is wrong with me? Why cant I just get over this?

If I take a step back and think of the whole situation rationally for a bit, Oron really is not that horrible of a person. Ninety percent of our relationship was all in my head. Sure, he played on that and strung me along for so long because he liked the sex, which was his own admission.

ENOUGH!

I am done. I can not drag myself through all this mental torture any more tonight. All that shit with Oron is over and has been over for a long time. Yes, I hate him. No, I probably should not. But with a few exceptions, I hate all the guys that I have been with in the past. Hell, I even hate guys that I had nothing with. But that is the joy of being me. I am full of hate an anger, and you just fucking have to deal with it.