“They comment on how strong you are as if you have the option of being weak.”
I found this quote not so long ago in one of the many corners of the internet that I frequent and it resonated with me on levels that I hadn’t yet come to terms with.
My life has been a serious of literal and figurative fights for my life. Ever since birth I’ve fought harder than any newborn should have to. I mean, as if an actual hole in my heart wasn’t enough to deal with and fight through I suffered a stroke on my fifth and so far final open heart surgery in my fourteenth year of life which left the left side of my body numb and basically inhuman. When I was twenty years old I was diagnosed with Stage 3 or 4 (I’ve kind of blocked that detail out) ovarian cancer and I fought tooth and
nail from the removal of the seven pound tumor that had taken up residency in my ovary and through the ghastly chemotherapy that I received shortly after. Even when I caught pneumonia after my first round of chemo and my mom came home to find me on the couch cold and gray and near death my body still fought.
Now my latest fight has been dealing with depression and extreme anxiety that I believe is stemming from school and my general lack of friends that I’ve pushed away due to my workload from school which has caused me to lock myself away in my room on weekends to do homework and ignore the world because it’s just easier that way for everyone. My replacements for most of my friends have been books, the internet and heavy doses of Netflix because the friends that I used to have at the start of college have began to slide away from me, and could you blame them?
Every time I was sick with anything my family and some friends have been by my side to cheer me on during my fights, but sometimes I just want to be broken and sad and unresponsive to the outside world for a little bit. I don’t want attention for it. I shouldn’t have to fight for the attention of my friends nor they for my attention.
I shouldn’t have to fight for the attention of my friends nor they for my attention.
At the same time I desperately want love and affection because while I get it from friends that I consider family at school it’s just not enough. I wish it were, but in the small doses that it comes in it never seems to be enough and I really hate it. I don’t want to be this person. I want good things in my life. I mean, yes, I do have them. I just want them to come in floods instead of random spurts. At least that seems how they come to me.
I know that in reality I have no “real” problems and that there are people out in the world that are suffering lives worse off than mine but, like love, sadness is a universal emotion.