Is it really a test of friendship when you realize how much time and effort, how much blood, sweat and tears you put in for other people with out even a thought, a notion only to later realize it's usually one sided?
When the chips are down, when the world is collapsing around you, and maybe yes no one else can see it, but still it's happening. Every ounce of sanity you once knew, everything you once held in the highest regard now lies dormant inside you. No one there to check on you, to pick you up. You were there for them. You didn't need a reminder, you didn't need to be asked.
Why is it that in times when you need it most you are reminded of all you have done for others?
I have never thought of myself as a selfish person. I have always put the needs of everyone else, even those I have never met in front of my own. I have found a sitter for my own child to help take care of someone else's. I have put aside my own needs time and time again to help those I care about. Without so much as a second thought.
Why is it I find that when I need it, that I am a second thought? To jobs, to responsibilities? I have them too, yes, but none of them were as important to me as those I cared about most.
I'm not trying to pen myself as a martyr. I'm not trying to paint myself a picture of a perfection in the friendship category as I am sure there have been many mistakes made on my part, but I have always done whatever I could to be there when it counted.
I am not sure I can even put into words how I have been feeling as of late. The undaunted feelings of sadness, of loneliness, of disparity, stemming from heavens knows where. Perhaps from repressions of all things past, present and even future emotions I have kept bottled up. Like a human volcano, suddenly erupting and now its all flowing emotional lava, melting everything in its path.
I found myself this past weekend, immobile. Unable to move myself from my bed. Not only from the pain I was in physically, not that. It was more like invisible straps bound me there, like I had no choice. I would look around at everything that had to be done, the few boxes I had gathered to fill with my life messily tossed around my apartment and I was paralyzed by it all. I couldn’t cook, I couldn't clean, I didn't touch my phone.
My poor son, luckily entertained himself in his room, as I lay in an emotional prison I had no idea how to escape from. I had no motivation, I was drained. I have no idea what has come over me, or why. But I noticed in my solitude, that it was silent. The only time my phone rang was my mother to say goodnight to my son.
I have never felt more alone, more neglected. As if my existence didn't matter, to anyone. Not so much as an invitation to make plans, or even to have idle chatter. Nothing. I was alone. Just me, in my emotional prison, alone with my thoughts, which lately has not been the greatest of company.
I think of the 3 weeks I have left to pack up my life. The life once shared by what I thought were my friends. People I have gone to bat for, put everything on the line for to help out. Helped move, sat with all night in hospitals, held their hair back for when they were sick. I think about everything I have done. Stayed up all night listening to them in their times of need. Was just there for.
There were friends who were there through the years when I needed them, yet they seem to have fallen by the wayside. Sucked into some time-warped abyss. As though the calendar came to life and lost all concepts of time. Like years, months even days have all been erased and time has stood still. Like I am suddenly living some through-the-looking-glass existence, starring into a one-way reflected image of my own solidarity.
I realize people all have lives. They have jobs, responsibilities, spouses, children, etc. But when I helped them, so did I.
I wonder where they all are now.