But I'm a Bad Friend

Location

 

Am I a bad friend?

I’ve always had trouble with relationships. Whether it be with a friend, a guy, or family.

Am I a bad friend?

You know I recently had a discussion with my mom. Barely breaking the surface of where my ture issues lie but shaving off some of my problems in life. “You would do almost anything for a friend but you probably wouldn’t do the same for family”

That shit still rings in my head. That’s pretty fucked up of me. But somehow I am still a bad friend.

There are times when I have stayed up til the wee hours of the morning to console or provide advice to people in need. But somehow that makes me a bad friend.

I’m not going to lie—I judge people based on first impressions. If you look like a b!tch, I will most likely think you are a b!tch. Yet somehow I am able to look past the hard outer shells and see them for the usually kind hearted person they are. Somehow most of the people that at one point I had coined as “best” or “close” friends, I at one point didn’t like. Yet somehow I am a bad friend.

I realize now I should have just gone with my first impression of these “friends”. Because these “friends” are the same people who I considered “ride or die” who I considered “best friends” who at one point thought we had gained the bond of “sisterhood”. Yet somehow I am a bad friend.

I am the one who at their lowest point in life would be more than willing to take in and console until they felt able to get back on their feet—emotionally and physically. But I am a bad friend.

I have always been the one that would take time away from studying, working, or even sacrifice time with family to be with these “friends”.

How am I a bad friend?

Being bullied at such a young and vulnerable age, I have always grown up with this feeling of being inadequate. Of not being liked. Of longing to be accepted. Even sitting here damn near 19, I want to be liked. I want friends. I have “friends”. I want friends. I thought I had done everything right but somehow it has all backfired on me.

How am I a bad friend? I can’t seem to wrap my brain around the fact that I have broken rules, stepped outside my comfort zone for “friends”. I have sacrificed relationships with other people for “friends”. I did everything I was supposed to do for “friends”. Yet somehow I am a bad friend.

Someone explain to me. Please. How can you can I am your “best friend” but sit there and break the first rule of friendship: communicate. How can someone sit there and drop the person who was there for them through the ups and the downs? Oh yeah, but somehow I am the bad friend.

I keep my guard up now. I smile when inside I cry.

I am too open. I am too trusting. I am too naïve.

I am just trying to figure out how I am a bad friend.

You know what I hate most? The fact that I have a lot of friends who won’t hesitate to ask for help. Who will keep me on the phone with them for hours to talk about their problems Who will play those stupid ass mind games to get me to stress out about how they feel. But when it comes to me, I am brushed aside, made fun of, ignored. Something that has happened all my life. But somehow I am the bad friend.

I should never have to sit in depression in the presence of people who are supposed to be my “friends”. I should never feel as if I can’t speak. I should never feel intimidated by people who are irrelevant to me. I should never forget that being a nerd has never been a bad thing. I should never forget that my grades are the shit when theirs are a piece of shit. Most importantly, I should never be in a position where I am the only one on the path to success. Never in the position where my last choice options are better than their first.

I have always supported my “friends”. I never boasted about shit in my life. If I ever did, be sure that someone was quick to put me in my place. I am not a doormat. I am not a flunkey. I should have gone with my gut instinct.

I surrounded myself with people who made me feel like shit more than the shit. I chose popularity over reality. I know now you can’t win em all.

I always was accommodating to the needs of others. I always tried my best to diffuse situations. I tried not to cause confrontation. Yet I am the fucking bad friend.

Well you know what? I am not a bad friend. I am a great friend. I am the type of friend who will do anything for my friends.

Everyone shows their true colors eventually.

To all the people who were never supportive of me, to all the people who brushed off all my problems as if I wasn’t worth the time, to all the people that spent more time bringing me down than bringing me up, to all the people who didn’t believe in giving back, to all the people who influenced me to change who I was, to all the people that didn’t accept me as I was, to all the people who I thought were my “friends”… I just want to give you all a big FUCK YOU. And thanks. Thanks for proving to me that I am not the bad friend. You are.

Sincerely,

The (at one point) depressed, suicidal teenager that never thought would be completely accepted by her friends, that never realized that she had given so much of herself to people that are complete worthless pieces of shit, that tried so hard to accept the harsh criticism of her life choices as friendly gestures, that felt as if her accomplishments would go unrecognized, that wanted to prove to others that she could be successful more than herself, that continues to fuck up relationships with the people who really matter because of irrelevant shit. Yeah that girl. That girl who has been emotionally, physically, and spiritually abused nearly her whole life. That girl who is nearly as innocent as Mary, but continues to be compared to hoes and sluts. That girl who has been forced since her sophomore year to take those degrading comments with a crooked smile. That girl who became a bad friend as soon as she decided to do something for herself. That girl that now makes you feel and look like shit because you didn’t know her whole story. And you never will.

Comments

mkbgirl94

I wrote this late one night after staying up wondering why I wasn't happy.

I realized I hated the person I had become. The kind of person who worried 

too much about how others viewed her. I've lived and I've learned. 

It can only get better from here...right?

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741