Is that weird?
I try to control it, but it stinks. It's embarassing for me at 36 years old to admit that, but I'm trying to keep it real.
For example, when we went to Chicago this past summer for vacation (the first vacation we had gone on since Autumn was two and I was pregnant with Erica) you may remember that my hubby's friend committed suicide. We found out literally 10 miles outside the city on our way in. Hubby was upset and torn about whether he should go back home. I felt trapped. I felt like I couldn't say anything because he needed me to be there for him, I was super pissed at the friend, and more than anything the hot tears I felt on my face that day were mostly for the fact that I actually let myself get excited about something and well...it fell apart. Par for the course. I was disappointed.
I am a prime example of someone who "suffers" from disappointment.
People, when given the opportunity, will let you down. I don't mean to sound all melodramatic about it or anything, but I truly believe it. If you ask the handful of people that I feel I can depend on to come through for me, they will mostly tell you that among them are people who don't deserve to be there, but have earned a place anyway due to my notoriously low expectations of others.
They will tell you that (with exceptions), I am a way better friend to others than others are to me.
I guess I am thinking a lot about it today because I am starting to realize that I am lonely. Most of the time, despite people being around...I feel alone.
Taking all this a step further, I wonder if this is why I find it so hard to motivate myself, sometimes. Am I trying to stave off possible disappointment in myself? Is this abnormal?
What do you think?
Today's Spark: No disappointing me!