Last night, my mom started on about how the family is cursed. It ended up with me being called self-centered. Of course the first thing I thought was I'm not self-centered, but as the night wore on, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I am self-centered.
Jake died a little over a week ago. Hiking Buddy lost his little hiking friend (Jake) and I really haven't asked how he was doing or anything.
Drinking Buddy had a bad day on Saturday. Although I did manage to come out of cocoon of unhappiness, I didn't really let him talk. Alcohol has a terrible tendency to make me not shut up. It's worse when I feel like I haven't been able to talk so all the thoughts come spilling out.
I'm not doing much for my family. I should be contributing more even though whatever I do doesn't seem good enough or isn't done on their timeline. I should be taking care of my parents not the other way around.
I think about Jake and the nights I left him home so I could go out drinking or whatever. I should have stayed home with him or taken him places we could have gone together.
Someone has been egging me onto volunteer. Besides the logistics problems, I'm just too tired to deal with people.
The more I think about, the more I think she is right. I am self-centered. And then I think of that priest who implied I wasn't nice or pleasant or kind. It's no wonder I don't have bunches of friends.
And of course the ultimate self-centeredness, it would be better for everyone if I would just pick myself by my bootstraps and stopped being so miserable and mopey and unhappy. But I'm too selfish to do anything about it.
No comments:
Post a Comment