It’s Hard, Friends

Woke up at 1:15pm today in the basement of a friend’s house. Got up, showered, ate cereal, sketched and read, and somehow three and a half hours passed until I was back in bed for a nap. Took said nap from 5:00 to 6:00, then ate some pizza and tried to numb out by watching Parks and Rec. Now I’m sitting in a giant chair and typing away.

I am still at my friend’s house. I feel alone though. My friend is completely emotionally unavailable, as she has been for several months, and today is just one of those days where I need a shoulder to cry on. I have been a big support to her, and I know she is grateful, but it gets hard trying to be the strong one. I am hurting and going through a really tough time and it just seems that she thinks her struggles are so much more difficult than mine
(or anyone else’s for that matter).

I want to cry, you know, because I feel the salt-water putting pressure on the backs of my eyeball. I don’t want to cry in front of people, at the same time. I feel weak. It’s hard to get myself to cry physically, too. Maybe if I cried, my friend would be a bigger support to me, but maybe if I cried nothing would change except for the number of tissues left in her house.

I’m back at one of those stages where I am struggling with my whole identity crisis/black sheep v. angel complex. Hard to explain… Equally hard to deal with.

Life is hard. I think working through everything that is making me sad and depressed and confused would be easier if I did not have chronic physical illnesses. It is hard to keep my eyes open, and my whole body hurts. Every time I get a new infection or some new symptom pops up, I get scared. When I first experienced my symptoms of hypothyroidism, my mom said “Oh, I’m sure your fine. Worst case scenario, you have mild anemia.” She said the same thing for my fibromyalgia. It’s getting a little difficult to look at things that way.

I love God, because he is my rock. He is my only rock, THE only rock, when everything falls out from under me. He is good, and I really do feel his presence with me, and you know what, I am angry with him! God is good, but/and I don’t understand why he allows so much suffering. I really just don’t know. And I’m a human, so I’m probably not supposed to know.

So there are my ramblings for tonight. I don’t feel like making all my words look and sound pretty. This post is a reflection of where I am right now, as I think it should be.


It’s hard, friends.


As always,


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One Response to It’s Hard, Friends

  1. One thing that is hard for people to understand is that we all have “hard”. I was talking to one of my friends the other day about my situation and they said they didn’t want to talk about their problems because they weren’t as “hard” as mine. I told them that just because my problems are different doesn’t mean their situations or emotions are somehow invalidated. My losing a parent doesn’t magically make facing unemployment a fun situation to be in.

    I know it’s frustrating when people disregard or trivialize someone else’s suffering, intentional or not. I’m sorry it feels like your friend is not supportive. Maybe it is something that could change with conversation? Maybe she doesn’t realize you need support as well, or that it feels she is leaning on you to the extent she is? Communication is just as hard, full of anxiety and worry, but sometimes all we need to do is speak up for the situation to become better.

    I am glad you have your faith and that you pull strength from it. I’m glad you admit to being angry. It’s something I struggle with still sometimes in my grieving.

    I found out two days ago via an email at breakfast that my student loans are going to be forgiven. It’s a fantastic thing. I know it is. Short of my mom coming back I’m not sure anything better could happen to me. But I’m angry. So angry. In my head it’s a cause and event connection. Mom died so my loans are being forgiven. Mom dying isn’t fantastic, and so I’m angry. The more I try to hide it or pretend I’m not, the more it festers in my chest, infecting and poisoning me. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be bitter and resentful and hateful.

    So I tell people about the loans, and the anger, and over the past week the anger has dissipated. It’s still there, sort of, but there’s a lot more acceptance. My anger isn’t going to change anything, and really the loan forgiveness is more of an act of compassion. “This situation really sucks. Let us try to make it slightly easier for you.” Seeing things logically doesn’t affect how I react to it emotionally.

    Anger and sadness and all of these other “negative” emotions we feel aren’t really negative. They serve a purpose. It’s not wrong to feel them. Embrace them. It’s weird, but I find when I accept those emotions, when I hug them and give them the same attention that I do things like joy and gratitude, there is usually a calmness shortly after. I’m angry and that’s ok. I’m sad and that’s ok. It’s like through denial they gain power, but if I accept them they settle down. Sometimes acceptance takes a while, but voicing the fact that the emotions are there, acknowledging their presence, is a massive first step in the process.

    I’m wishing you well and keeping you in my thoughts.


    Liked by 1 person

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