I can’t say that life is terrible at the moment. I can’t say that life is how I hope it could be either. When there’s so much more happening in the world today that is devastating and negatively life-altering, I can’t compare my worries to any of that.
But I am human. At the core, I’m still selfish. I’m selfish because it’s what I feel inside that is stopping me from seeing that others have it worse. I’m selfish because I feel like I need to think about me.
I’m selfish to want to fix things and because I see that things will just pass, events will be history, and that our state of being is almost completely in our head.
Surely, there are external factors that influence our state of being. From happiness, to neutrality, to depression – something influences it. I’ve been depressed before. I didn’t know I was, until I found myself in a rut I couldn’t shake. I can’t say if I am now. But I can say I’m hanging on by a thin thread.
A friend once told me that if I carry on like this I’m going to snap. I’m doing everything I can not to snap. I’m trying to keep myself afloat because I have to. Because I am able to and because it is the right thing to do. But I’m tired. I am bearing the pressure of my own life, my work, my thoughts and at the same time, bearing the burden of the rut of my other half.
I can’t get her out of it. I have to be supportive. I have to be the rock. I have to be the silent pillar that she needs.
But who’s taking care of me? I’m not talking about the acts of service like dinners and cleaning. I don’t need to be showered with gifts. It’s not a statement of unappreciation, don’t get me wrong. Is it my responsibility to try to push her out of the rut while I’m stuck gasping for air? Am I to think and fight for two people?
I’m just saying… who’s taking care of how inadequate I feel inside? Who sees my state of being? That is why I say I’m selfish.
Because no one can… but me.
Stephanie's Space 