Facebook just is NOT an appropriate venue for a lot of the thoughts and feelings I have inside. Sometimes you just need somewhere to dump off all of the things you keep inside. This is what this is going to be used for, as well as a place to try and track my progress from going from cripple kid to a somewhat functional adult female once again. I can't even get .25 miles into a walk without my muscles screaming at me to give in.
I've been making progress over the last year and a half but it's not enough. I have NOT been pushing myself nearly enough. I do give in a lot more than I should. I need to touch that core of fire inside and draw from it but there are so many damned things that I find disheartening.
I don't have an awful lot of support. My family is distant. Maybe I'm responsible for part of that, but there are a lot of unresolved issues. My closest friends are all 40 miles and more away from me.
Truth be told out of that group, there is truly only one that stands by me at all. He has his own series of issues and problems to contend with, though.
Thursday, July 6, 2017
Alone
I suppose it's just how it is for everyone. Perpetually alone. Alone together. Alone apart. It never used to bother me when I was younger. When I was stronger. Now I find myself living in a remote place with just a cat to keep me company.
No one wants to deal with the medical problems I come with. Entirely too heavy for anyone to take the time to bother with. Don't get close. She's going to die.
To be fair, that has NEVER been said to me. It doesn't have to be. It's in every pitiful look I get from people who want to know my story. I resent that look. I do not want nor do I seek that sort of attention from people. When it comes down to brass tacks, I'm just the same as anyone else living on this rock. I, too, have hopes, dreams, desires, needs.
Lately, I find myself at rock bottom. I'm in the depths of a depression I've never experienced before. I'm on the verge of just giving up completely. People always say "Reach out. Call someone." No one has answers for me. No one can help this. Even doctors just pass me around with quizzical looks. And I am damned tired. My soul is in pain and it's on ragged breath. Like a tornado of razor blades.
There are people, too, who when they're tired and sore and aggravated who will turn their words loose on me. As the closest thing to hit I suppose. I don't know if they realize just how strong those words are and it makes me recognize the real truth of how they feel. So why am I still here? To catch them when they fall? To make them feel less alone (and myself, as well)? I feel like I do nothing but run to them when I feel they need me but the return has been slim. Way more effort on my side of the fence. I field the cost. The time. The disruption of my day. And I just find myself giving until I have nothing left and receive nothing outside of someone to talk to and who will come see me once or twice when I'm in the hospital IF I'm on the right side of town.
No one helps me with bills. No one helps me eat. No one helps me with gas money. I am truly alone in everything. Rarely a human touch or spark of affection. I am just a vehicle and a delivery service and a sounding board to look at other girls.
What have I lowered myself to? How did I devalue myself to such a degree? It's all because I know no one else could ever possibly love me as I am now. And I need to accept this and realize I can't ever ever in this lifetime have what I dreamt of when I was a little girl.
I think I need to write more often. Perhaps it will help me to process my own acceptance as I spiral downward.
No one wants to deal with the medical problems I come with. Entirely too heavy for anyone to take the time to bother with. Don't get close. She's going to die.
To be fair, that has NEVER been said to me. It doesn't have to be. It's in every pitiful look I get from people who want to know my story. I resent that look. I do not want nor do I seek that sort of attention from people. When it comes down to brass tacks, I'm just the same as anyone else living on this rock. I, too, have hopes, dreams, desires, needs.
Lately, I find myself at rock bottom. I'm in the depths of a depression I've never experienced before. I'm on the verge of just giving up completely. People always say "Reach out. Call someone." No one has answers for me. No one can help this. Even doctors just pass me around with quizzical looks. And I am damned tired. My soul is in pain and it's on ragged breath. Like a tornado of razor blades.
There are people, too, who when they're tired and sore and aggravated who will turn their words loose on me. As the closest thing to hit I suppose. I don't know if they realize just how strong those words are and it makes me recognize the real truth of how they feel. So why am I still here? To catch them when they fall? To make them feel less alone (and myself, as well)? I feel like I do nothing but run to them when I feel they need me but the return has been slim. Way more effort on my side of the fence. I field the cost. The time. The disruption of my day. And I just find myself giving until I have nothing left and receive nothing outside of someone to talk to and who will come see me once or twice when I'm in the hospital IF I'm on the right side of town.
No one helps me with bills. No one helps me eat. No one helps me with gas money. I am truly alone in everything. Rarely a human touch or spark of affection. I am just a vehicle and a delivery service and a sounding board to look at other girls.
What have I lowered myself to? How did I devalue myself to such a degree? It's all because I know no one else could ever possibly love me as I am now. And I need to accept this and realize I can't ever ever in this lifetime have what I dreamt of when I was a little girl.
I think I need to write more often. Perhaps it will help me to process my own acceptance as I spiral downward.
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