Identity Death

Today I Hate: Being alone. Why? Because while I usually savor my alone time this is definitely too much of a good thing.
Today I Love: Me. My stuff. Who I am. Everything that makes me me. Why? Because I'm pretty damn awesome.

Identity Death

  It always sucks when someone dies. And while there may be plenty of people who disagree with me on this, I think it sucks even more when the dead person is still technically alive. For me, I'm usually the first person I blame. I think that if someone I knew and was close to did such an extreme one eighty to the point where they don't even resemble the person I was friends with then I must have been wrong about them the whole time and am an idiot for ever being friends with them in the first place.
  In actuality, this is not the case, doesn't make much sense, and is something that I believed because everybody kept telling me it was so. Since realizing this I have gotten much better at not blaming myself. I realize that I have no choice over what someone chooses to do with their life or the pile of shit they decide to turn into and maybe that's what sucks most of all.
  Usually when this sort of personality/identity death happens after some amount of time passes and my wounds aren't quite so fresh as they had been I will check out the person because, hey, you never know (although most of the time I find, you do.)
  This happened to me not too long ago and as I looked at some recent photos of the person I found I didn't feel hurt or angry or sad. I didn't really feel anything because the only thing that was going through my head was, Who IS this person? Because I honestly didn't know. This person, looking like they are about to snap in every single photo, stressed to the max with a strained smile, always holding a drink because how else could you possibly live so many lies and all at once...I didn't know them. Even though I recognized the face it was as if I was looking at a stranger.
  At some point during all this it hit me like a good sized stone right on the noggin that the fake, pathetic person I was looking at wasn't someone I would ever want to know. The person I was looking at wasn't the same one I had befriended and who had befriended me, they were just a pathetic little child who couldn't deal with their self or their problems, who will only spend time around people who support those lies and will drink away any of their remaining doubts.
  The next thought that went through my head was, How long can someone possibly live like this? Unfortunately, I already knew the answer to that question and it is A Very Long Time, usually for their whole lives.
  When someone you care about decides to take a path that self-destructive it's not so much like watching a car accident as it is like watching a car accident involving the person you love, in slow motion, as they crumple up and die and there is absolutely not a thing in the world you can do to stop it or even to help. You just have to turn and walk away, soaked with the knowledge that you will never be seeing your loved one ever, ever again.
  I know the advice given in this scenario is very similar to advice given when a loved one physically dies. That you have to move on with your life and meet other people, etc. But I've noticed that in this situation, unlike with a physical death, you are not allowed to mourn at all. People will tell you something along the lines of, "They were never your friend," (both insulting your intelligence and making you feel like a complete ass) and that they aren't worth your tears and that's all bullshit. For me, while it's true that the person in those photos sure as hell isn't worth a second of my time or a drop of my tears, the amazing person I once knew is, even if ultimately that is not what they chose to be. They were my friend, I loved them, and I have a right to mourn them and that is exactly what I am going to do.