Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Call the waaaa-ambulance

This is a whining pity poor me vent. Just ignore it, I had to get the thoughts out of my head. This one really is for the nether.

Some family members have the power to hurt me even though I'm an adult now. Logically I know where they are in their life and understand their limitations when dealing with others. But it still hurts that they don't care.

It's not like the hard parts of my life are a secret. I'm not trying to hide skeletons in my closet. Any of my family can check my Facebook feed or read my blog to get a pretty good idea of my thoughts, feelings, the psyche ward stays, and various other forms of crazy. I'm pretty damned open about what I go through. 

I don't understand why someone who spends all their time on the internet bothers to ask what's going on in my life then puts all the blame on me for not keeping in touch. Yes, I don't call very often. That is true. There are reasons behind that which I will not get into here. Suffice it to say I have baggage and am still working through it.

But it hurts when we chat. It hurts when they don't remember ME, just some girl child that was. They think I was a princess child who loved pink and sparkly. They think my birthday is in February. They don't come to family things that are important to me or to my children. Like weddings. Or baby blessings. And then they open up a chat window one day and say "Hey, why don't you stay in touch? Call me sometime," When really, all they want is to tell me more about what they're doing. Every single conversation, whether it's chat or phone is all one sided. There is no real interest in what is happening on this end. And while I love them dearly, that hurts.

Yes, I am proud of the accomplishments they are making. Yes, I am glad and happy for them that they are finding something in life that makes them feel good about themselves and gives them hope. That's awesome for them; really, truly great. It's been 35 years of them being lost and feeling hopeless, so that is a very big deal.

But... it would be nice to just have a normal conversation. Talk about books or movies, laugh, tease, be people. Conversations don't need to be all about me, nor all about them. Just... conversations, you know? Normal things that normal people do? Not underhanded demands for my art skills to be donated. Not just a 'let me tell you how great I'm doing' conversation.

You know, I just tried to kill myself last month. I had a mental breakdown. I am struggling with being a parent and a wife. I am struggling with coping with life. Yes, my meds are starting to work and yes, things ARE getting better, but that doesn't mean I've made it to the top of the mountain and am on the sled ride down to home base. Nope. But yup, I'm going to wallow in guilt for a bit that I don't make the effort to keep in touch with them. Because that's part of my job description and one more thing I am not perfect at.

*sigh* maybe this all bothers me because I do the same thing. Maybe I'm only seeing in them what I see in myself. Maybe I am that annoying and hurtful to the people I love. Uggggggh. All I can say to that is I am trying to be better than that. I am trying to be a good, caring, kind person.

1 comment:

  1. Um, you are one of the last people I'd say was self-absorbed. And if you're thinking a lot about your health that's both understandable and hid for solving health problems. NO GUILT NECESSARY!