Sometimes, I think my life has been much different than others, but then again, it might be others have done well with not revealing the things nobody likes to talk about.
I've had to deal with the emotional disorders, and substance abuse, of people that I love. I won't elaborate, but they're far from distant relatives. After a long time of dealing with it, I one day realized how much of my own thoughts were directly related to their problems. I didn't have an epiphany. I knew something was terribly wrong and I was struggling with coping.
I started researching the symptoms and found that my particular circumstance in life was many times ignored. There was help for sufferers of emotional disorders, but few for those that were directly affected by the problems of others. I sought, and found resources, but it was only scratching the surface. My thoughts, and reactions, were a bigger problem than I realized. I guess you could call me a victim, but being a victim is as insidious as an other problem. Victimhood is a form of defeat and can lead to problems that can be overwhelming.
So, I learned what I could, found some help (some professional ) for my own reactions and started taking back the control of my life that I desperately needed. It's been a journey, but it's been enlightening; mostly because I've found the one person that can control my life is me. Sure, others can influence, but they can't control, unless I allow it to happen.
I'm guessing some of you are wondering where I'm going with this post. I think it's a knee jerk reaction to what I observe most every day: People with more blessings than they can count can be so miserable, they never realize they've become trapped. If they continue as they are, they'll end up spending too much of their lives fighting their own personal demons. It doesn't have to be that way, and it's not a sign of weakness to admit life can be overwhelming. Maybe some day there won't be such a stigma attached with mental disorders and people will make a stronger effort to find their health. I can only hope. Life is too short to carry spare baggage, especially when it's not your own.
From the amount of visitors today, I'm thinking I should have wrote about the time I fell off a bridge.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.