Being a Liability...131Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4bWcvi1lFO
The other thing that I used to endure was that I always felt like a burden or like a liability to other people.
And that used to hit me hard. I would think that many people would benefit a lot in life if I didn’t exist at all.
I guess that is the other thing that might have contributed to the self-destructive thoughts.
I know.. It wouldn't make any sense to try to explain it to anyone.
Because it's not like people would enjoy walking miles in other people's boots.
Of course, you have a perfect life. Everything is great. So why would you bring things like that up ??
To put it simply, possessions and wealth aren't everything. And having nothing doesn't satisfy the soul.
Of course, I've lived on both sides, where I had everything a person could dream of and when I had nothing.
Heads up, that totally had nothing to do with what I felt inside.
When I had nothing, I would obviously get a burst of euphoria without having done anything that would cause it.
When I had nothing, of course, I would obviously be dreadful, wishing for better days without having done anything that would cause it.
And I would feel dejected and abandoned because I thought asking for something or anything wouldn't be okay. Of course it would pass, but what the melancholy would leave behind would be quite treacherous.
As for bathing in heaps of gold, times weren't any different. It was actually even worse. I would actually feel melancholic and euphoric at the same time. And I wouldn't know how to deal. It's not like I would have told someone about it even if I wanted to.
Of course, I did bring up the pills popping thing in a conversation with someone that I used to spend time talking with.
Even though that person would spend more time looking at the phone than concentrating,. But it didn't bother me that the person didn't hear, because I knew what I had brought up by mistake wasn't heard.
Talk to someone. You don't have to tell me anything. Been there... Done that.. It's just pointless.
The other times when I was craving a meal out with anyone—someone, anybody—I found myself stuck with no one to call out to,. to hang out with, and to squander it all with.
It just felt like I had everything. And yet,. I had both nothing and no one crazy, right ?
Years passed, and I did meet great friends—awesome friends—some of whom even became my best friends. But still, it never went away. The dread of being alone and forgotten.
One time my best friend told me, Do what you will with me; I don't mind. That actually felt mind-blowing at that point in time. I'll tell you that much. But that was that. At that point in time,.
My friend actually knew how to communicate feeling hurt and depressed and how he would cope with it. And I listened and comforted him as much as I could.
Bringing another well-prepared meal to an already full table just seemed a little too over the top. So I kind of got stuck in the empathetic zone with all my friends.
I was always that angel in my corner, the person to all my close friends and other people, whom, of course, no one knew gravely needed something or someone to hold on to.
And then it hit me. If I was going to exist as an empath, then, well, of course, I had to find ways to cope with dealing with everything by myself.
So I found myself withdrawing from people's lives. It's not like I wanted it to happen or anything, but it happened because I couldn't keep up.
Both in expressing myself and in feeling that probably no one needed me anymore.. 'Not that anyone ever did..
So, I found myself not having to ask for anything from anyone. And it was somewhat soothing and comforting because I didn't have to feel like a liability to anyone..
Of course, there are times when someone has to ask if they need help with even lifting back-breaking things, truth be told..
I still don't know how to.. But it doesn't matter.. Oddly enough.. it has never bothered me to do anything I can on my own. It just seems easier that way—not having to cause trouble for anyone. But..
Chivalry ain't dead yet. I've always found myself being offered a hand, even if I find it.. I don't know.. unprocessable and unworthy of it in the slightest.. Because of my delayed reciprocated responses, I've been learning that it doesn't matter, I guess.. I think.. I don't know.. I don't know..
They still kind of haunt me—the feelings and thoughts of being an encumbrance and a nuisance—because I've been constantly being scolded left, right, and center since I've been knocked down and oozing red already.. But.. I still do keep on holding on to life, even if I don't know if I should still keep on holding on for any much longer.
How it stands.. It's not like if I were dying, I'd be able to say anything about it to anyone at all.
Not because I wouldn't want to. But because it's not like it would matter, because whom would I be to be able to stand and say I am not long for the world, or even ask for anything or something ?
Yup.. Like I said, explaining it to someone would make it all sound incomprehensible, let alone sensible. Why bring it up anyway ?? I don't know (sigh).. I don't know. I.. I don't know..
