I check up on people I care about. A lot. Sometimes to the point that I think I may be annoying, but I’d rather annoy someone than lose them. I have friends in therapy, friends that are medicated, friends that have been in dire situations, and I try and ensure that I speak with all of them multiple times each week. I’m grateful that I’m able to do this, and that they’ve trusted me to tell me their struggles. It means a lot to me that I can do this for them.
Nobody checks in on me. I’ve been diagnosed with depression, PTSD and some other things I can’t or don’t want to remember right now. I may have mentioned it in passing, hidden in the middle of some long winded social post, but I don’t really talk about it with people. Those that I have told don’t really acknowledge it or bring it up with me, and it makes me feel even more like it’s something to I have to keep to myself.
I like to tell myself that it’s because people believe that I’m strong, and I can handle my burdens. More often than not, I feel like it’s that they don’t care. I know we’re all busy and going through our own things, but a lot of these so called friends and family can go for weeks or months without talking to me unless I reach out first. It’s like this meme I saw recently that hit too hard – “is she texting you, or is she just replying to you?”
To be fair, a great number of people reached out when my dad passed, but I was in no shape to reply to anyone. When I finally was able to reply, some time had gone by and I guess they all thought I must be better by then. I wasn’t, and I’m not.
My neurologist kindly told me that I’m one of the lucky ones who has a concussion that sticks around. She told me that I may never get back a lot of the things that I thought made me who I was before the accident with the same level of interest one might use to describe beige paint. The thought of this scares and angers me.
I try reminding myself that I’m strong, and that I really don’t need anyone else to check in on me. I’m an only child, a sole business owner, someone who took great pride in what i was able to achieve through working out by myself, without a trainer, nutritionist or even a workout partner. I bought my cars on my own and paid my own way though school. I’m a self-sufficient unit. Always have been.
Still. Some days, it would be nice.