I hate myself sometimes

but before you look or talk down on me, look in the mirror. No one is perfect. In fact, we all have moments when we just seem like complete assholes to everyone around us. Even the most caring people. We find out what's real, but then we go back into a society which is so hard. Today, someone in my Ethics class, was in a very interesting discussion about freedom, and self-respect and whatnot. He shared a personal experience; when we lived in the dorms years ago and his roommate and roommate's friend came in drunk one night and they just beat the shit out of him. You couldn't even tell it was him. Why did they do it? Because he's gay. He moved out, and years later he is now going to the school again. But he feels like no one there will understand him. He goes to his classes, does his homework, and goes back home. He has one person he actually talks to. That's it. One friend on a campus of thousands. This really hit me, as it should. I raise my hand to comment on it, and I had something else to say, I can't remember; but I was going to start off by saying; "I'm sorry that happened to you. That's screwed up, and I can't blame you at all for isolating yourself after that. But I hope you are able to see the good people too." Or something like that. The professor didn't notice me, and just made a quick comment about it and moved on. No one said to him that it was wrong that that happened to him. It was unfair. That he didn't deserve it. No one said sorry. And I was thinking about how I wanted to talk to him when class ended. Just offer to listen, maybe tell him about TWLOHA and building community. Or just say if he'd be up for it, I'd love to just sit and talk with him sometime, get to know him. But then I was thinking about it. How hard it is to do that. How I felt like I knew no one else in the class would say anything to him. It's almost expected. And that is so FUCKED UP! Why is it that I feel uncomfortable going up to someone like that and offering to listen? Why is it that everyone does? Cause I mean, no one else did, so they either felt uncomfortable or worse didn't care. I walked out of the class and walked to the end of the hallway. I stood at the stairs, waiting for him to come planning on talking to him for a minute. But he came out, got a hug from his one friend; and headed the other way. I didn't head after him. I want to write him a letter, give it to him Monday. Or just offer to talk to him Monday after class. (though I like the idea of a letter more because I have a class shortly after that one) And that leads to another thing. Why the fuck is it in our society, that a class, a job, a homework assignment or anything like that seems more important than having a conversation, or being there for someone who is going through shit? When I was real depressed, I'd skip school a decent amount. But i think it helped my recovery process so much. And I hate that I have conversations with people going through an absolute load of shit. But they don't feel they can skip a day of school, or blow off an assignment. They don't think they can say forget school, I need to help myself right now. ITS FUCKED. And maybe there is some psychological explanation. But it needs to change. And it needs to change right now. I'm not involved in TWLOHA and whatnot just to help people with depression and suicide and those things. I think it can overall make the world a better place. Anyway, I got off topic a little bit there. I hope I do talk to this guy in my class. I'm hypocritical for what I just said, I know. I walked away when I could've chased after him. But I think that goes into the idea that we are all broken. I know I'm wrong too. But helping broken people makes the helpers less broken too. It's a two way process. It just needs to start. I don't know if I'm just writing this to clear my conscience, motivate myself, or motive others. But I'm sure there is a reason for it. I have made this too long already, even though I haven't even said half of what I would like to. Maybe in another blog, maybe in another conversation, maybe in another life.