I still believe it’s a sin to be able to help someone else and not do it. I still believe that the best way to get kindness in the world is to be kind. So, this isn’t a post to say that dammit all to hell, that’s it, I’m not doing anything for anyone else ever again.
I’m just confused.
Two weeks ago today was the anniversary of my mum’s death. A week ago today was the anniversary of my son’s death. I live alone, I have no family, no partner and no tribe. At a time of year that is very focused on family and love, it’s lonely. I started planning a 6M dollar project while abruptly winding up another project. Managed the year end Brownie Christmas party. Then the electricity gremlins came to my house. On Saturday night, as I was doing some baking for the local political campaign, the power in my house died. I had no fridge, no stove, no lights upstairs and no plug ins on my main floor. I was alone, in the dark, with no appliances and no help.
And you know who asked who I was doing? If I needed some help? If I was overwhelmed?
A casual friend I see once in a while. (And I’m deeply sorry that I started crying when she asked. It’s just that she was the only one who had).
I’ve tried to get better since 2014. I’ve learned to pace myself (that’s why I haven’t mailed your Christmas card yet). I’ve learned to tell people that I’m lonely. I’ve learned to take care of myself. I bought myself flowers, I took myself out for dinner and had a second glass of wine before I went to Messiah on Friday night. I’ve learned to ask for help (and yes, that request on facebook for help changing the light bulbs I’m too short to reach was real).
I know I’m not worth much. I know all of my failings and faults. I didn’t think it was a quid pro quo, but I did think that maybe I had friends. I thought if I asked for help, if I told people that I was lonely and overwhelmed, I had enough friends that someone would reach out.