I’ve watched a friend get abused on Twitter recently and it inspired this post.
She gets bullied/abused for rooting for teams other than her primary team, which is The Red Wings.
I try to stay out of Twitter drama that doesn’t concern me, but tonight it touched a nerve and I finally gave her what I’m sure was advice she didn’t want or need.
But I did it anyway and here it is:
I’ll give you the only advice I have: it’s only a game. I know to us fans it can feel like so much more, but in the end it’s still only a game. We, as fans, have nothing to do with the actual outcome. Losses hurt, but friendship is so much more important to me. I’m friends with fans of all teams. I turn a blind eye to a lot of smack talk.
Those were my tweets to her, but here is what I didn’t say because it would take too many tweets:
I will never condone calling a female hockey fan a puck slut, puck bunny, or any other derogatory term unless I actually see that person in the act of being one and then I’ll still probably not say shit. You are a very knowledgeable hockey fan and I like that we get along regardless of the fact that the Wings and Jackets are supposed to be rivals. I like that you seem like the type that would explain a rule/penalty/call to someone without being a jerk. Yeah, sometimes there’s a bit of drama on your timeline that gets on my nerves, but when I see random people attacking over nothing, it pisses me off. I grew up without the internet and if you bullied someone you had to do it to their face and better damn well be prepared to back your shit talking up.
So, there you have it. I will never condone Twitter bullies.
Especially if they’re little jerks that would never have the balls to say shit to anyone’s face.
I don’t have a lot of friends in my town, but I have met some wonderful people via Twitter/Facebook.
I am a good friend.
I will drive to visit my friends from Twitter.
I have on occasion lent/given them money if they needed it.
I’ve bought my friends wonderful gifts for their birthdays/Christmas.
I mail out holiday cards to my Twitter friends. (I didn’t last year because of personal problems)
I am a very loyal and protective friend.
Besides, who died and made you fan police, random Twitter troll?
It’s just a game. Don’t ruin a friendship over a game.
Here look at my cat:
And can’t we all just get along?
Chibi Rj Umberger drawn by my friend, Brett.
I don’t think it’s a secret to anyone that knows me that I love Rj Umberger.
Today’s news, sigh, it hurts my heart a bit.
I want so bad to not believe the ever elusive ‘sources’, but I fear it may be true.
I did read an article that he’s been hurt since the Olympic break, but who knows what’s true anymore.
I love Umby and he will always be one of my favorite players, but if he’s not happy then I don’t want him on my team.
My prediction is that by Friday he will be traded and gone.
And I will cry, just like I cried when Arroyo left to go to the D’backs.
Good luck to you for the rest of your career, Rj.
*Both pictures were taken by me at the CBJ/Isles game.*
I’m sorry, I’ve been meaning to post. Honest. It’s just I’ve been writing a story because I’ve recently rediscovered my passion for writing fiction.
I promise I’ll write more soon.
So, tonight was my fourth session with my awesome psychologist, who I’ll just call Dr. Ash, and she made me feel a Hell of a lot better about my conflicting feelings.
She told me:
Yes, it’s okay to say hockey makes me happy.
Yes, it’s okay to still want my ex back.
Yes, it’s okay to be upset and feel sad when I get no response from her.
No, it wasn’t overreacting to be upset after seeing a gift being snarkily made fun of on Twitter.
Yes, I have every right to cry because I feel like I was her four year experiment.
I know I deleted a few posts at the
ex’s request because they made her uncomfortable.
She’s trapped in the closet. And that’s fine because I’m not sure she’s actually into women anyway.
I forgot this sage advice from Orange Is the New Black:
It’s true. Follow it to save yourself heartache.
I wrote this long winded email begging her for another chance and her response was she had to mull it over. (not an exact quote) That was Thursday? Friday? Almost a week later and not a peep. I think I have my answer.
I actually said everything that went wrong was my fault.
Bull fucking shit.
It takes two to fuck up a relationship. I don’t know why I want to let her off with no blame.
I still love her deeply and probably always will.
Does she feel the same? I’d like to think she loves me. She said she did.
My whole life throbs like a toothache right now and honestly the only thing holding me together is Blue Jackets playoff hockey.
I know just how stupid that may sound to some people.
I’m barely holding on from one day to the next. I’ve cried at work several times this week and on the way home from the Jackets game on Monday, because I admitted I was trying to win her back. Luckily, my friends I was with assured me that this was normal, because I still loved her.
I just wish she felt the same or something.
Go Blue Jackets!
Beat the Penguins!
This is me from Monday’s game.
Until my next post, ta!
This group of young guys with a few seasoned veterans mixed in have made me so, very happy.
All things in my life right considered.
ICYMI: I essentially got dumped by my gf of 4 years, via email, like 10 days ago.
I wanted to crawl in to a dark place inside my head and stay there.
Of course, I have a few wonderful friends that kept ahold of me, refusing to let me hide away in my own sadness.
There was hockey, namely The Columbus Blue Jackets.
See, before the split I snagged a great deal on lower bowl tickets and my co-worker/friend, Amy had agreed to go with me. She had never been to an NHL game before and I wasn’t going to flake on her.
We went, the picture above is from the end of said game.
At that game it clicked for me, these guys might actually pull off a playoff spot this year.
Fast-forward to April 9th and after much bouncing and nail-biting the Jackets clinched a wildcard playoff spot.
Then after finally drifting off to sleep, I woke up a few hours later groggy and still tired as Hell. I decided to scroll through Twitter on my phone for a couple minutes, smiling as I looked back on the amount of pure joy on my timeline from the night before.
Saw someone tweet at the Blue Jackets about where was their flag bearer code email. I had no clue what this was and dismissed it, deciding to go back to sleep.
As l was getting comfortable again, I heard my email alert and picked up my phone to look at my email.
Holy shit, I got a playoff ticket pre-sale flag bearer code.
I literally jumped up and set up my laptop to investigate tickets.
I scored a ticket to game 3 at Nationwide Area.
And this, my friends, is the story of how hockey made me happy.
Go Columbus Blue Jackets!
Beat The Pens!
Wake me up when 2014 is over. Because this year has sucked out loud and swear I would sleep until Monday morning, but I already have the tickets bought for Sunday’s Jackets game.
Then next week an entire 7 whole days of being curled up as a human burrito of sadness.
My therapy session last night really opened up my eyes.
She asked me to describe myself to her as if I was meeting myself for the first time. So I did. I said fun, silly, geeky, sarcastic, sports nut.
Then she gave me her first impression of me:
Unwilling to accept blame.
I literally couldn’t speak for a couple minutes. Am I really like that to the people around me?
And then I get to work and hear the same things. A customer complained that I was bullying the PIC. Are you kidding me?
I’m not sure I’m buying that one. How does one bully their boss and not get fired?
Anyway, back to the point of this post.
There’s a point? I never knew I came off that way to others and gods, I feel like an ass if I’ve treated anyone like this.
So, here’s to trying to be fun, silly, geeky, reasonably sarcastic, geeky, and a sports nut.
I used to be so much stronger.
I used to be able to fight the dark thoughts that haunt me.
I used to think I meant something.
I can’t fight anymore.
I give up.
This is me throwing in the towel.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger.