So I’ve been getting it these past few weeks. Life’s been hard. I’m not going to even try to sugarcoat it. I’ve just about had it. I’ve had friends do me wrong, parents give me the silent treatment, financial stress more powerful than any I have ever experienced, and emotional responsibility recklessly thrown on my back. Emotional responsibility I have to keep in check by the hour. Emotional responsibility I don’t think I can handle every morning when I wake up, but I force myself out of bed – convinced somewhere deep down inside that even this shall pass.
Sometimes friends do us wrong. It’s not an anomaly. What matters is how we deal with the friend when they do us wrong. Anger solves nothing. Anger pushes us away from resolutions, traps us in a pit of our own unforgiveness and rage, and limits our responses to emotionally unstable and unproductive solutions. Wallowing in our own self-pity does us no good either. I’ve heard a lot of people say that you are only the victim if you choose to be the victim, but I have to say I disagree. Sometimes we are the victim. We don’t have a choice in this. If we choose to believe we not a victim when, in fact, we are a victim, we limit our knowledge and understanding of the situation and therefore end up making unhelpful or unwise decisions. I’ve been a victim this week. I’m not so prideful as to try and convince myself I have everything together. That I’m unwoundable. I’m not unwoundable. I’m vulnerable. Just like you.
Sometimes parents are not there for us when we need them. This is not exclusive to people whose parents who have passed away, had an ugly divorce, or have addiction problems. Sometimes our parents can be one room over and still not be there for us. Sometimes parents can have an appearance of perfection to a bystander, when in reality, the entire family is in disarray and upheaval. What’s in the family stays in the family. There are plenty of people just like me. You don’t want to talk badly about your family to outsiders. You internalize your hurt. You vent into pillows. I get it. I’ve been there my whole life.
Sometimes money does control our life. No amount of Hallmark card mushy-gushy lip service can convince me that a life cannot be either saved or destroyed by means of a presence of or a lack thereof money. There are people dying right now because cannot afford another meal. Because they cannot afford healthcare. There are young people who cannot attend college because their family cannot afford to send them, so with this, they face a lifetime of penny pinching and poverty in an increasingly degree-oriented work world. Money can save a life. Money can pay for a meal. Money can pay for healthcare. Money can pay for college. What about love? Money can forge relationships and create connections. Money can network. Money can relieve stress. Some of us don’t have money. Some of us are handicapped. I know. There’s no solution other money either.
Sometimes emotional responsibility can far exceed the suggested average for a person your age. Sometimes we can feel overwhelmed. Sometimes we have a right to feel overwhelmed. Sometimes we are overwhelmed. This isn’t a crime. It’s not a fault on your part. It’s a reality. So what do we do? We push forward. We wrestle hourly. We fight to keep our emotions balanced. In tune. Healthy. Wise. Sometimes we have to get in the shower, turn up the water and let ourselves cry. Sometimes we have to go run it out. Sometimes we have to write a journal entry – a completely honest one, this time. Whatever we can do. We strive to keep everything together. I understand. I’ve been in places having me struggle by the second.
Sometimes we cannot see people’s hardship. Sometimes wounds are invisible. Sometimes people cannot contribute their hardship to a death. To a divorce. To a relationship failed. To an obvious sickness. To a family problem which can be spoken of. To a feeling – definable, easily describable. I’m not one of these people. I have problems I can’t talk about with other people. I have questions I can’t ask. I need help I will never attain. Some of us understand this. Some have problems just like mine. We can never talk about them. But know, here! They exist. I know how you feel. You know how I feel. We are never alone in our solitary state. This is what gives me peace. Strength. This should give you peace and strength.
Why am I telling you this? I want to share with you how I deal with the hardship. Do I still text my friends back after they hurt me? Do I still give my parents a chance after they let me down? Do I still fight for financial stability when it’s all I can do to pay for the bills I have now? Do I still choose to wrestle with emotional responsibility even when it would be easier to just throw it off my back? I do. Of course I do. I will not stop until I die.