Proof of the Pudding
Trash
Posted by Wayne (Melbourne, Australia) on 28 August 2007 in Abstract & Conceptual.
Honestly....It never ceases to amaze me how every single time I manage to get a grip on things...that they ever so surely spin out of my control and comprehension.
I received a piece of not so great news yesterday, details of which I shan't go into, and I gotta say...it pretty much takes the cake in the wrong timing awards.
Its funny how things are in my life. My sister, who turns to me for reassurance and support and get its, can in my hour of need be so incredibly condescending and self-centred. It's not that I don't understand why she's as a different from me as red is to blue...but it irks me to no end that she cannot accept who I am despite me accepting her for who she is.
It hurts incredibly that I can't turn to my mother for help much less confide in her because any hint of bad news, she flies into a panic and then I have to end up reassuring her instead of the other way around. So every messsage, every conversation is an artifically light one. My mom doesn't know me any more than the people I work with.
I can't turn to my dad because...well he's not here anymore. My memory of him's so foggy, if not for his photo beside my desk, I'd forget his face. I already can't remember his voice anymore.
I don't carry a lot of badges...but I've certainly got quite a fight to pick with whoever's ordered my life cos my life is pretty much looking someone else's lunch.
I've been told to hold on, to endure, to hope for better days, to perservere. Its like I'm in the cult of the ultra-optimists. I try thinking positive thoughts. I try writing positively. Pretty much to no avail.
Expect more they tell me. It's kinda hard to keep doing that when all your expectations have been bashed down to the point where you wonder if its worth any trouble at all.
I've been told that there are people willing to listen. People I can trust. People I can turn to. That perhaps this blog isn't the only space where I can express my thoughts. The only things that come to mind are the nights I stayed up with my army buddies through their issues, the countless hours I've spent on the phone listening to the troubles of others and the love, comfort and healing I've poured out into their lives. And I wonder...where is that person that I am for me. Where is he or she?
I don't ask that people give up of themselves in the same way I've been brought up to do for others...but just once....just once it would be nice to have someone there for me. And not me having to be there for someone else.
