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Still Learning To Deal

Six months later and I’m still discovering obstacles within myself, learning how to deal with things, and getting so frustrated at times that I can’t stand it.  My patience is thinner than it’s ever been, my sense of worry heightened, and my sleeplessness catching up.  I have trouble getting out of bed each morning, sometimes realizing that I have to get up because my phone has already given up.  I’m running late most days.  The other day I slept an hour past the alarm, and was awoken by Dad hollering upstairs to see if I was off that day.  I wasn’t.

I miss coming home each day and talking with Mom about everything.  I miss having someone to talk to one-on-one.  That’s a void that I don’t think can ever be filled.  Dad tries I think, but more times than not he becomes disinterested or thinks I’m finished and just walks off.  It’s not his fault though.  Why I just assumed that he would want to hear all that anyways, I don’t know.  That’s misjudgement on my part, and I don’t hold it against him at all.

I’ve learned that you should always be surprised about who will be there for you and who won’t.  Sometimes it’s the ones you think wouldn’t be there that are, those that should be there that are quick to turn their backs, and then the few that are there just like you knew they would be.  Family is supposed to mean through thick and thin, but it’s really no different than most other relationships, only when it’s convenient or necessary.

I obviously have a hard time with goodbye’s and moving on.  But even as hard as that is on someone, I hate to see someone find it so easy to do.  That’s what I fear most about dying.  I’m not afraid of dying itself, in fact I’d take a bullet in a heartbeat for anyone, but it’s the being forgotten that scares me.  Maybe that’s just selfish, I don’t know.