I'm a resilient chick. I've always thought so. But then again, maybe I'm not. I cannot cope with this. I am, as you said, naive and stupid, although those weren't exactly your words. I should be able to deal with mistakes, with little spurts of hostile behaviour, but I am finding that exceedingly hard. I feel like I'm back in class 3, with the smarty pant bitches looking down their noses at me and complaining to the teacher. The teacher is also a bitch, and listens only to the smarty pant bitches. And then there's me, glowing with stupidity and embarrassment, standing there with my pants down, and averting everybody's gaze.
I don't fit. I just don't fit. And I don't even love it anymore.
Maybe I am Daddy's spoilt little Princess who should stay in her giant Ivory tower and gaze upon the blithering mess below. Why did I even think of being a part of it? I should be a part of the Mad Men era, a Stepford Wife, a part of the decoration.
I am inept at handling this. I can't fight anymore.