The End of an Era

I pulled out of Storybrooke for the final time last night. Haven’t let it sink in yet, and honestly, I’m not really even sad about this decision in the least. It feels like bricks have been taken off my shoulders.  The community  there as a whole just felt really toxic, and if I’m being completely honest, nothing I wanted to be a part of anymore.

Of course certain people have made that decision regrettable because now I am dealing with her “abandonment issues”.  It’s ridiculous. I get that she has been psychologically and emotionally damaged by ex-friends, lovers, whatever. But so have I, in a sense.  I don’t show it often because it takes a lot for those memories and things to surface and cause me trouble. For her, it’s every little disappointment/something not going her way that does it.  And that’s why it was so hard to get up this morning.

We were up till a quarter to 11 my time (she’s on the Pacific Coast) with me trying to explain what happened between 7 and 7:15. And the short answer to that is that I really don’t know. I had just started thinking about all the negative feelings I was getting from that group of role players. These were my friends, and I still consider a couple of them friends, but now I hold them at arm’s length. They had become toxic to my well-being, and with all of the positive changes I’m making in my life, I just couldn’t allow that into my head or heart anymore.  I’m not going to name names, but some of them had gotten to the point where they were more annoying than helpful.

I had one of them (the one I’ve been the closest to through all of this, no less!) tell me that I needed to start LJ-cutting my entries if they were going to be longer than a paragraph. Ha! That’s not going to happen. All  of my journal/diary entries are longer than a paragraph because by the time I actually decide to write, I’ve got a lot to  say.

Momfriend has gotten repeatedly annoying on my personal Facebook. I had considered blocking her, but I know that she thinks she’s being helpful, so I’ve let it slide while actually whining to my friends who are not a part of that circle anymore. I also try not to do that,  but sometimes it just needs to be said to someone.

I have never been one for conflict, so it never gets said to the person it needs to be said to.  Conflict actually is one of my anxiety disorder triggers, so… I avoid it at all cost. I realize that is probably not the most realistic things to do, but I have yet to figure out how to realistically deal with it without sounding like a child instead of the 37-year-old adult I am.

Now my only problem here is that I have all of these muses and nowhere to play them, and the more I read, the more muses that develop.  Its not something I can ultimately stop doing. Because my muses are like my secret “friends” that I keep when no one else is around. They inspire my own creativity, and I don’t know who I am without them. I don’t know if that makes sense for anyone here, but I’m hoping that anyone who reads this is a writer/ or some kind of creative person that will get where I am coming from.

Anyway, it’s almost time for volunteering so I’m gonna go, and see if I can find a book to borrow. (Keeping with the tradition of borrowing a book after returning one…. lol)