Although I Try...

I’ve done my best.

I’ve tried my hardest.

I do what I can to try and not go anywhere on a pity trip. To not feel bad for myself.

I do whatever it takes to prove I’m not a glass doll.

So, I have some...issues. So what? Who doesn’t, right? So I’ve got a few more than most people...is that supposed to make a difference? Please don’t see me as less capable. Please don’t see me as some child that needs to be quarantined in a bubble suit in a padded room. Please don’t treat me like a god when I pull off things amidst what appears to be the least desirable circumstances...

I just want to be normal.

I just want to do life...

And yet, sometimes it’s hard.

One thing after another after another.

I’m hardly off the ground before something else comes to kick my face in.

Sometimes it’s just a little guy kicking me in the shins. Barely hard enough to trip me up without actually making me fall. And sometimes it’s the big bully who knows I’m about to get back up and sticks around to give me a good push down again anyways. [Heck, how long has Wilson been, in some way, shape, or form, the epitome of this bullying scum bag??]

And so sometimes it’s hard.

Sometimes it’s hard to look someone in the eye and say “Umm, yeah, it does sort of hurt but it’s not so bad...it’s only a week and a half without being able to do anything with my dominant hand. It could be a lot worse...”

Sometimes all I want to say is “Umm, yeah, you’re right, it does suck. If I get punched in the gut one more time I can’t promise I’ll have the will to try one more time. This whole ‘I get knocked down’ bit? Yeah...it could be better...”

It’s not really that I want to bask in my unfortunate circumstances. It’s not even that I want to quit trying.

It just that don’t get it...

I don’t get why some lives seem to have the same problems I do and some seem to have it worse and so many seem to have the “I can’t believe I chose turkey when there was salami!!!” style lives...where the worst things that go wrong, well, they really aren’t the worst things at all.

I don’t get why my life is a series of unfortunate events...without any breaths or breaks between the chapters. Not just with health stuff, but with all of it. They take turns and so I’m never given an opportunity to just...be.

And for as much as I want to be strong through it all...

I can’t always be.

Yet I’m not really allowed to be anything but.

At some point, they want to and do care...but mostly no one is really that interested in the traumatic story of my life and I have been told several times I shouldn't be either. I'm not allowed to let things get me down.

So here I sit, alone, bemoaning life’s seeming immediate unfairness. Because, right now, it just feels overwhelming...too much.

I try my hardest.

I do my best.

But sometimes, apparently, my best just isn’t good enough.