A Stone

I've had a hard time the last few days trying to write something for my blog. Every time I get a few sentences in, I stop and frown because it just sounds like I'm whining or trying to start a pity party. That's not what I'm trying to do but I understand that that is probably what the three people who read my blog must think.

I'm down; I'm not happy. And yes, I do know that things could be worse. I try not to think about that because honestly, in my tiny and lonely world, I don't want to think about what that worse could be because that worse tends to come to fruition. But I don't expect people to understand that. One thing I've learned over the last five years is that people, those who unluckily orbit my unhappy universe, haven't bothered to try and understand what I'm going through. They're judging me based on what they see and/or my actions or words but they are not interested in trying to understand me. Which is fine. I'm not the type of person who will force other adults to do things they don't want to do. Not only can you not make people love you, you can't make people (or family) care.

And why should they? They have their own lives, their own troubles. The list of troubles that weigh on my soul is long and complicated. I wouldn't want to take it on but I know I have to but it's such a mountain before me. I don't have a support system and when I try to tackle that mountain myself, I end up mimicking Sysiphus.

Part of my problem is that I am naive. I always have been and even though I am slowly growing wiser, it's not at a helpful pace. I believed growing up that my parents always had my best interests in hand but it wasn't until both my parents were dead did I realize how that wasn't the case at all. My parents did not prepare me to live as a successful adult and the more mistakes I make, the deeper my hole becomes. I take steps to help myself but that damn stone just rolls back on down the hill.

I was also naive in thinking that family mattered. You can make the ultimate cry for help but they will not answer it. This is damaging to the soul and is irreparable. So is the realization that those you thought were your friends are truly only acquaintances and not very good ones at that. Their words of 'I care' ring hollow as those words have no action. Just as with family, that cry for help went out unanswered. It's always been a fault of mine that I take my friendships seriously and assumed everyone else did also. But, you know what they say about assuming things.

It is very hard for a person who has been ignored in such a way to ask for help but as I've said once in this blog, and I repeat often to myself, you can't make people care.

The one thing I got out of my cancer battle is that I wished people had more consideration for me. I'm not saying I should have been treated special or like I was a princess. It just would have been nice to have someone, anyone, say to themselves "Hey, she's going through chemo alone. Maybe we should give her a ring and ask her how it's going."

And the same goes for now. Since that bad day back in September, I have never been asked a simple question - How are you doing?

Again, you can't make people care but it would be nice to be validated.