#impulsecontrolprobz

Confession- I’m a horrible friend.

After everything that I’ve been through in the past 8 months, I have an extremely low tolerance level. I just don’t put up with what I see as bullshit, useless drama, or stress and it does not take a lot for me to classify what use to be everyday, normal events as such.

I’m not emotionally available, I am not nurturing, I am not a “beat around the bush” kind of girl. I call it like it is and have serious issues suppressing my word vomit and controlling my impulses. It all comes back to Commandment Number 1: Thou Shalt not Take Shit. 

This recently acquired personality trait has been both liberating and burdensome. 

It’s liberating in the sense that I am a much happier, healthier individual. I cut away the bullshit from my life, don’t tolerate any form of manipulation that I use to so easily fall for, and I have taken control of the trajectory of my young-adult life. It is burdensome because my sweet and endlessly supportive friends have not asked for or invited Sara Wildes into our conversations. Even though the blunt, bold, and honest truth works for me, it doesn’t work for everyone and not everyone is on this level.

Here is a recent example of how my intolerance and insensitivity has interrupted my relationships….


Peter

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So I may or may not have called Peter’s ex-girlfriend/girlfriend/sloreface a bitch… And she may or may not have banished him from talking to me now. He won’t text me back. He won’t even read my texts. Even when I texted a well thought out apology… The only thing is, she is a bitch. Someone should tell her that she has been acting like a bitch and that she is ugly on the inside and out. But it probably shouldn’t have been me, it should’ve been Peter.


A nice friend would support whatever made Peter happy and keep quiet about the rest. A nice friend would be endlessly kind and positive. A nice friend wouldn’t call the bitch a bitch. But I’m having a really horrible time being a nice friend. I have reached my max. I have seen this girl rip him apart from across the Atlantic Ocean. I have personally been ripped apart by bullshit in the past.

It also helps that I’m moving and will NEVER have to see her face again and I have zero concerns about the repercussions from these actions. I mean, even if Peter decided to marry Rachel (the thought literally makes me gag) I wouldn’t have gone to the wedding or sent a gift. It’s no secret how I feel about Rachel, Peter knows. I’ve just spoken the words softer in the past and now I am spitting them out like nails.

Oops.

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