The depression has been pretty bad lately, and it’s had me thinking about things a lot for the past few days. My life as a whole has been Lifetime movie stupid drama, and sometimes when you are in the middle of it you don’t realize that you make your life harder for yourself, and you don’t need to.
In the past couple of days I’ve finally realized where the root of my depression comes from. 16 years ago I made a choice and gave up my life to move 3,500 miles to a place I immediately hated, to be a part of a family. I didn’t want to give up that life. I had long phone conversations with people who persuaded me. Swore that I would have help, that I would have a family to belong to.
But my sacrifice and effort was met with very little effort on the part of those that told me I was wanted. The more I pushed, the more distant and angry people became. I’m not perfect, and I know I made mistakes, but I didn’t know what else to do at the time. It felt like I was going through a process of rejection, and I didn’t know how to handle it properly. These were my parents.
And having a real need for a support system, some sort of loving tribe to belong to, it ripped the foundations of my world out from under me. I learned to be alone the hard way, and it was my greatest fear. A fear I had vocalized in all my previous conversations, and had been told I didn’t need to be concerned about.
Please don’t tell me to ‘come home’ and then abandon me.
I packed everything I owned and drove for ten days to start my new life with you.
I didn’t want to end up alone.
One side reasoned that their relationship with me was strictly on their terms, and I had to accept it or leave. So I left. The other made me feel like I was asking too much to be a part of their life. To be seen, acknowledged, listened to. I was easily tossed aside, and my silence was met with silence of their own. Not that anyone else was speaking to me. I spent days speaking to no one until I went to work, and it was a nightmare.
I felt like a novelty of ten minutes that people realized they needed to actually spend energy and emotion on, and then fled as soon as they could. I’m not saying that the situation wasn’t difficult for them, because it was a stressful mess for all of us.
But I gave up so much, and it was met with so little. And I finally realized this week that my heart has been broken about it for the past 16 years. That choice irrevocably changed my life in ways I can’t describe. I can never get that potential back. And I spent so long trying to find a way to fit in with people who didn’t want me, I wasted whatever potential I could have had here.
And now I have to live with the guilt that I could have done better, been in a better position to help my husband, and somehow been better prepared when my accident happened. I failed myself, and my future by chasing shadows of love instead of making myself worthy of the one relationship that would matter. It’s a terrible feeling.
Do not sacrifice your life for those that are not willing to even give you the emotional support you need to find a new one to thrive on. That is not an even trade. My family taught me not to trust them. Don’t learn my lesson 16 years late. I didn’t need a car, or money, or a house.
I needed love.
Do not ever let anyone have the chance to teach you what it’s like to be unloved.