Friendships are something that can make or break your day. Good friendships are hard to find, and REAL friendships are harder. Friendships with people who don’t hurt you, whether intentional or not, are almost impossible to find. I find myself questioning my friendship with those around me who have no understanding of where I come from. I was born and raised in a polygamist family, and I Have to admit that most rumors about polygamy are true. I have yet to want to get into the details, but I did not have the best childhood. I have large gaps in my memory, which I can only assume exist due to my brain deciding that it is best if I forget. Sure thing, brain! No argument there. Suppress away! I have entered into 5 relationships, 4 of which were terrible and abusive on one level or another. The 5th I am still trying to figure out how to recover from, and what to sort out. I am really good at getting myself into crappy situations, but on that note, I am also good at recognizing they are bad and getting out of them. It may take me a few years, but I got this! I have decided to look back at my failures and accomplishments as a slew of events that were to get me where I am now. Regrets? Of course. Trying to let go of those regrets? Absolutely.
Recently I have been examining my choice of friendships. There are some that have been around from the time I was child, a teenager, a young adult, and ones that are still fresh. I have found that my recently developed friendships are likely not as solid or “untainted” as I had thought. Someone I have trusted with secrets, pain, joy, etc has recently betrayed me, and I really have no urge to forgive them. Not that I am angry with them per say, however the idea that a person presents who they are as a friend to my face as one thing, and behind my back as another does little for my happiness and trust. If words against me are being used without my knowledge, words that I shared in confidence, I truly have no want to share such private things with them again. My past, present, and future personal privacy is not something I want broken. I am quite the open book, so when I choose to share something with you that I don’t share with others, you should probably keep that information in confidence.
I have so many things going on in my life right now, and adding distrust is not one that I would prefer to have. I am sure nobody does, but with all of the ailments (both medical and emotional) that I have I seem to feel an extra sting at the knowledge that bad words have been said about me. I do not consider myself a bad person, and though I have done many things wrong (and even cruel – I am only human) I am the first to admit my fault and pursue correction. I do not break the trust of others. I do not use what they told me against them behind their back, however pretend that I am innocent. I do not feign friendship. So when this is done to me, I can’t help but step back and once again wonder what it is about me that made me so trusting of this one particular person. I have been fooled so many times by the charismatic and “seemingly” honest person, only to find they are cruel and truly the most dishonest of sorts. I guess it can play into the fact that I don’t understand this thought process. I will, however say, that I have chosen to keep my current feelings at bay and simply stop sharing the things that I would not share with the average person. I know that addressing this behavior will do nothing but harm, and it is not my place to try to change anyone. I will accept how they are, and move on. I accept that they will likely fade out of my life one day, and it won’t make much of a difference. I also accept that they may completely turn on me one day, so the less ammo I give them, the better. I can’t avoid them in my day to day life, so I will avoid the subject instead.
On an ending note, with all of the occurrences lately I find myself becoming more and more depressed. I am not one who likes to admit failure or defeat, so I tend to let things pile up so much that they start to weigh me down and I have a harder time recovering. This is such the case now. I am sad. I am incredibly unhappy, though there are things that still bring joy to my life. It is not joyless, I simply feel worn out, overwhelmed, and sad. My illnesses, the lack of support I see around me more and more, and the burdens I carry as a working single mother. I am not a ‘pity whore’, but my life is incredibly hard. It is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, and it is not showing any signs of improvement. The ailments that bring me woe ARE my life. It is what my life consists of every day. They say that happiness is not a situation, it is an attitude.. but I find it increasingly hard to find self motivation and keep a happy outlook when things are so exhausting. When life it so exhausting. When what I deal with on a daily basis would be incredibly hard for a healthy person of my age, let alone someone with my illnesses. When I realize that those around me I thought believed and supported me.. doubt and belittle me behind my back.
What kind of life is that?