Scumbag brain

My scumbag brain has come up with a whole new narrative to torture me with. It goes something like "you are a foul-weather friend, and that is all you are. Sure, yes, of course people want you around when they are moving or going through bad things, because you carry boxes and are stable and you listen. Those are good sometimes. But when people get back to their regular lives and want to have a good time, of course they don't want you around anymore. Why would they?.

This one is evil because it has a seed of truth, of course... I've thought of it before with respect to friends, but I very much don't like extending this same sort of idea to lovers. I'm basically so pissed at my brain for coming up with this one that I haven't even started refuting it yet.