I used to think it did even out and that it provided an adequate substitute for the attention, normalcy and acceptance that one should recieve in their own families on a daily basis. But as painfully tortuous as it sounds to me…. friends aren’t always a daily basis in life.
Friends come and go. They don’t always have to like you. Sometimes they don’t want to talk to you for days and sometimes you’ll be their last resort on the weekends. Some friends only want to text you and never call while others prefer lunchdates every two weeks. If you’re lucky, you manage to find ones that decide to hang out with you as often as immediately convenient for them.
Your family has an obligation to love, care and support you… But friends don’t.
And…. thats perfectly fair.
It’s just… the setup that’s messed up. The imbalance. It’s not anyone’s fault that my family is selfish, abusive and comprised of mentally unstable persons/drug addicts. It’s not anyone’s obligation to stand in and help fulfill that area of personal loneliness. As a bonus, my family problems are extremely overwhelming/oftentimes aboslutely helpless and seem to arrive as one big pity party. This is an independent battle of which no person can immediately help, except for (maybe) a therapist and most importantly, myself.
It’s just really hard when even the slightest piece of honest rejection coming from a trusted friend hits me because they are, literally, all I’ve got. So much so that I become physically sick and I feel like I want to run as far away as possible. This, combined with the despair of my familiy situation, contributes to that horrifying, wretched wave of suicidal thoughts.
I have not been praying… I haven’t been reading the scriptures. But I do think a lot about the gospel and I do feel the spirit when I remember The Plan of Salvation. I want to stop feeling like an alien… I want to feel like a child of God, but I’m afraid the psychological trauma instinctively makes it hard for me to accept that I am lovable. It makes it hard to pray. It makes it hard to read. And it makes it ten times harder to go to church… It makes it hard to believe my friends aren’t just putting up with me because they’re bored. It makes it hard… hard to believe that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me infinitely, and that I have a destiny beyond this mortal life.
I’m too ready to accept reasons why I’m a freak and why I should just off myself.
And because I’ve faced these thoughts so often, I think that my time here is shorter than I’d like. It’s borderline comedy to imagine that I’ll be able to fight this forever. Especially after dad dies. I think, at least for right now, I need to focus on the simple act of surviving. Setting up high expectations and huge goals in my life are proving to be more obsessive and counter-productive to my self-esteem than I’d want it to. I need to endure, and I need to find a way to get myself to crawl closer to God!
And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.