I'm tired of being ignored...

I often tell my therapist that one day I'm going to write a book. I no longer write in journals, because it just seems like I am doing little more than talk to myself. I only do it these days when I feel as if I'm going to explode.

I'm just baffled at the level of insensitivity that seems to pervade society these days. Are we that selfish? I try so hard not to be, but it's like I don't really exist anymore. From what I'm reading, it's a by-product of chronic illness; you lose the life you once had, you lose friends. Problem is, I feel like everyone walked out of my life, with the exception of those who make me even more ill by being around. It would be nice to have a friend come visit. But they're off living their lives. I don't mean to sound bitter, but I tried to be an asset to my friends before I got sick. You would think after all I've done, I would be worthy of some positive attention.

But no, I'm the drama queen. I attract trouble. Never mind the individuals around me with their own issues, who feel that it's okay to press them upon me. I want nothing more than to simply live a peaceful life, but I'm surrounded by adult children who don't want to deal with their past issues. Hopefully one day soon they won't be a part of my life anymore. I don't deserve to be abused by you, I don't care what happened to you. I have not taken my grief out on you, don't take yours out on me.

I don't get that, this idea that when you are having a bad day, or a difficult stretch in life, it's perfectly okay to walk around with a chip on your shoulder. Most of my life has been full of abuse. I didn't fight back, I internalized it all, and had to eventually un-learn all of the negative messages that were given to me. It was a long journey, it was terribly hard. I still flinch at times when I reach out, and it's like I'm totally ignored. But there is a peace that comes with not basing your self-worth upon the opinions of others. Sure, plenty of people in the world say they don't care what other people think, but if all of those "other people," their friends, family members and colleagues walked away, they would be crushed. I've had that happen to me, and I'm still here.

I'm tired of being ignored. I'm tired of being written off. I'm real. My story is real. My pain matters. Just because it's immense doesn't mean that I deserve to be left alone. I have yet another burden to bear, finally a diagnosis for what has been plaguing me for years. No support system for my son should I die, because there is none for me. Yet I still keep going. Wondering what will happen to my boy when I'm not here, because I cannot channge what will be.

And all because society is too fixated on pleasure to deal with the inevitability of pain. I am to be ignored because all I've ever known, with the exception of the joy that is my son, is pain.

I do not see how that is fair. And I hope that when I'm gone, judgment is heaped upon those who have been too busy having fun to notice me.