You thought you were being funny. You thought you were making a joke, and probably that I wouldn't see it, because it was on my boyfriends wall and not mine. But you forgot, he's my boyfriend. I tend to go on his Facebook a lot. So here's the thing. It wasn't a joke, and it wasn't funny. It was hurtful. Really hurtful.
My whole life I have struggled with anxiety and what I suspect is probably depression. I have spent my whole life thinking I am crazy because I've always felt wrong in relation to every one else. I can't go in to Walmart when its busy and I routinely call out of social events because I realize I won't know most of the people there. I lay in bed for days and don't do anything because my motivation no longer exists, and I spent two months over the summer believing I was a worthless waste of space. I have spent days, months, years, hating myself because of who I am and where I came from. I have convinced myself that I am a failure in every sense of the word for every reason.
When you posted what seemed like a harmless "inside joke" between you and my boyfriend (that he has no recollection of) on his wall, you didn't realize what you were doing. You didn't realize that you were pouring salt in every self-inflicted wound I have ever given myself. You didn't realize that I would sit alone and wonder if everyone else can see my crazy, too. That I would beat myself up for coming to see Cory at work, for calling him on his lunch, for asking him to come home and hang out with me instead of doing other stuff. Because how could you know? Why would you know that I am terrified of being so insane that my boyfriend leaves me? He wouldn't tell you that, I wouldn't tell you that, I don't tell most people that. Until now it has been a secret that I carry around, weighing me down.
And then, and then you said that even if it was a joke between you two he wouldn't tell me? Let me tell you something. I haven't kept a secret from my boyfriend since the day we met. A month after we started dating he was sitting next to me while I got my stomach pumped. He has had to force me to get out of bed and do day to day things like brush my teeth and comb my hair because I won't do it if I feel low enough. I have seen him cry, I have listened to his every fear and hope, and he has done the same for me. There are things about him that he has told me that no one in this world knows. We don't keep things from each other. So even if you did have an inside joke, if I asked him about it, he would tell me. Let me remind you that you're not special to him. You mean nothing, and let me emphasize the nothing here, to him . You are an insignificant passing thought that we laugh at over the course of the day. You have nothing with him, and mean nothing to him, so why you would think that one of your jokes would ever be special enough to keep from me, I do not know.
I know that you'll never see this post because you blocked me on Facebook for calling you out about this whole ordeal. So maybe I am crazy. Crazy for putting this effort out into the universe to respond. But if I've learned anything, it is to always speak up for yourself, even if no one hears you.
I care about myself enough to tell you and the world that I am not crazy. And my boyfriend will never make me crazy. I love him, he loves me, you remain irrelevant.