I do not pity my situation. In fact, I do not pity anyone's situation. More often than not, I am that annoying bastard that sees the opportunities and the silver linings and the possibilities that unfold in front of us all when adversity strikes.
I mean, sure, I probably drink too much, but I am overall a pretty emotionally stable and mentally solid individual.
But I am struggling. And not in the way most people have probably expected.
I have spent the last 4 years taking care of someone else. It was not one sided, as anyone who spent more than 2 minutes around us would have immediately realized, but I think one of the reasons that Greg & I worked so well together is that we found a beautiful agreement: you take care of me and I will take care of you. At the end of the day, everything and everyone was taken care of and we would fall asleep content with the life we had and excited for the life that was consistently evolving for us.
I didn't realize that this was a bit of a cop out for us. It kept us from having to make ourselves the priority in our own lives.
Now that I am left on my own, I realize that taking care of myself and my future is not the reason I do anything.
I get up because if I don't then my family will think I am sinking. I go out because if I don't then my friends will worry about me. I laugh hard and often because I am afraid that one day I might forget how. I have bills in stacks. I have calls to make. I have voice mails left unheard. I have mail left unchecked. I have dishes left to do.
And some days, I get a bit of a lift and I do these things. I do them before anyone really has a chance to realize anything was wrong.
Someone asked my friend how I was doing.
"She's good..." she replied.
I was livid. This is not just a lie, but it is also so destructive to what I am trying to remind myself... that I am NOT okay. That this is NOT normal. That this life is NOT going to sustain itself for much longer.
I have had a couple of amazing people surface and resurface into my wee tangled life as of late that remind me that there is not only pain elsewhere in the world, but also brilliance and love and excitement and hope. Small gestures like a hand held or a compliment or a 6 hour phone conversation like I am sixteen again... there are joys. There are genuine moments of feeling beautiful and adored and loved and desired and included and necessary in someone else's life again.
Is this selfish? Maybe. But it might be necessary.
To remind me that I am not half of something.
Just a whole something that hasn't realized it yet.