More often than not these days I feel rather useless. It's not that I am actually useless. I have limitations due to my disability but I still have a lot of skills. I offer to help with things a lot, whenever I can, but having the offer accepted, being asked, being able to actually pitch in is what makes me feel like I have a reason to keep going.
One thing I have realized in the last few years is that I am a nurturer and caregiver. It is a role I always slip into when there's a need with friends, housemates, partners, even strangers. I don't have friends who live close to me anymore. I don't have a love partner to cook or do things for. I don't see either of these things changing soon. It's harder to see the friends I have because of distance. And constantly dealing with basic needs and financial hurdles doesn't help either. As much as I hate to be the one who needs or who asks for help, I've been amazed amd blessed by what people have done to help me through, especially recently! I've learned to accept it even though it's hard by knowing that I can always find a way to pay it forward! But it never feels like enough!
So, more often than not I find myself more frustrated and less optimistic. Boy, that is something I really do not like. There are things I started to be involved in that I knew I had valuable things to bring to but my circumstances made it impossible to follow through. I thought a move and cheaper rent would give me peace of mind and more time to create but it wasn't enough of a change.
I have made progress but I am mostly treading water these days in a sea with no land on the horizon. That's exhausting! The ship hasn't sailed without me. It has sunk. I am hoping that my dreams will float to the surface again and that i will find that alternate way to get across the ocean.
It is such a waste to have been blessed with a good brain, so much creative talent, so much love, an appreciation and desire to see the world and a heart that wants to do so much to make other's improve their life and achieve their dreams if this is all there is going to be, treading water and slowly sinking. This can't be where I stay.
And I know so many people feel like this. So many people end up watching their dreams sink and spend their lives going through the motions until they die. Some never give up though they never go anywhere. It's very sad sometimes, being human.
And no matter how independent we are, we really can't go it alone. We can't solve everything ourselves but sometimes we don't have help either. No man is an island but he can be voted off it. And the grandest irony if all is we can be surrounded by love and still feel so alone and unwanted.
It's complicated being human. And it's hard for a lot of us. As someone who has been forged by abuse and trauma I am both steel and rose petals. I give up and I open my heart. I find value and joy by helping people I care about with little things and sometimes big ones. I find meaning and value in my scars by helping people whose lives have been altered by abuse find their value and perhaps a happier path.
Some days that is all my heart beats for.
But lately, it's having a hard time and I just don't know what to do about it. I seem incapable of fixing anything or moving forward. No matter how many fresh views I try to take, it looks the same. All my tools seem to be inadequate. Hope is something I used to be able to see no matter how hazy the view was. Now I can rarely catch a glimpse on a good day. This does not bode well.
I know this sounds like I am really depressed. It's worse than that I'm feeling resignation. I'm still fighting acceptance. This cannot be all there is. After all this I have to figure it out, don't I? It is amazing how a heart can be so strong despite being pulled apart so many times. I think that after so many grafts and surgeries enough of the original is missing that it looses structural integrity. It's beats are numbered.
Is it delusional to think somehow things will turn around or should I accept that this is the rest of my life? Will I only make my contributions in small sporadic bursts. Will all my creativity come in fits and starts then float off into the ether? Will that just have to be enough? Will my heart have thrown all its love to the undeserving without ever being filled back up? Am I going to live in places that I can't thrive, giving up more and more of the things that make me happy until I am either one of those shell people or I just stop? Ugh. I hope not.
I have never been good at giving up. That's possibly the only reason I am still here. My stubbornness and my sense of responsibility. One would think that eventually both would pay off. Just being here is not enough. I have to be doing SOMETHING with my life besides treading water!
One thing I have realized in the last few years is that I am a nurturer and caregiver. It is a role I always slip into when there's a need with friends, housemates, partners, even strangers. I don't have friends who live close to me anymore. I don't have a love partner to cook or do things for. I don't see either of these things changing soon. It's harder to see the friends I have because of distance. And constantly dealing with basic needs and financial hurdles doesn't help either. As much as I hate to be the one who needs or who asks for help, I've been amazed amd blessed by what people have done to help me through, especially recently! I've learned to accept it even though it's hard by knowing that I can always find a way to pay it forward! But it never feels like enough!
So, more often than not I find myself more frustrated and less optimistic. Boy, that is something I really do not like. There are things I started to be involved in that I knew I had valuable things to bring to but my circumstances made it impossible to follow through. I thought a move and cheaper rent would give me peace of mind and more time to create but it wasn't enough of a change.
I have made progress but I am mostly treading water these days in a sea with no land on the horizon. That's exhausting! The ship hasn't sailed without me. It has sunk. I am hoping that my dreams will float to the surface again and that i will find that alternate way to get across the ocean.
It is such a waste to have been blessed with a good brain, so much creative talent, so much love, an appreciation and desire to see the world and a heart that wants to do so much to make other's improve their life and achieve their dreams if this is all there is going to be, treading water and slowly sinking. This can't be where I stay.
And I know so many people feel like this. So many people end up watching their dreams sink and spend their lives going through the motions until they die. Some never give up though they never go anywhere. It's very sad sometimes, being human.
And no matter how independent we are, we really can't go it alone. We can't solve everything ourselves but sometimes we don't have help either. No man is an island but he can be voted off it. And the grandest irony if all is we can be surrounded by love and still feel so alone and unwanted.
It's complicated being human. And it's hard for a lot of us. As someone who has been forged by abuse and trauma I am both steel and rose petals. I give up and I open my heart. I find value and joy by helping people I care about with little things and sometimes big ones. I find meaning and value in my scars by helping people whose lives have been altered by abuse find their value and perhaps a happier path.
Some days that is all my heart beats for.
But lately, it's having a hard time and I just don't know what to do about it. I seem incapable of fixing anything or moving forward. No matter how many fresh views I try to take, it looks the same. All my tools seem to be inadequate. Hope is something I used to be able to see no matter how hazy the view was. Now I can rarely catch a glimpse on a good day. This does not bode well.
I know this sounds like I am really depressed. It's worse than that I'm feeling resignation. I'm still fighting acceptance. This cannot be all there is. After all this I have to figure it out, don't I? It is amazing how a heart can be so strong despite being pulled apart so many times. I think that after so many grafts and surgeries enough of the original is missing that it looses structural integrity. It's beats are numbered.
Is it delusional to think somehow things will turn around or should I accept that this is the rest of my life? Will I only make my contributions in small sporadic bursts. Will all my creativity come in fits and starts then float off into the ether? Will that just have to be enough? Will my heart have thrown all its love to the undeserving without ever being filled back up? Am I going to live in places that I can't thrive, giving up more and more of the things that make me happy until I am either one of those shell people or I just stop? Ugh. I hope not.
I have never been good at giving up. That's possibly the only reason I am still here. My stubbornness and my sense of responsibility. One would think that eventually both would pay off. Just being here is not enough. I have to be doing SOMETHING with my life besides treading water!
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