Wallowing in Sorrow

I never believe in saying that because I had particular life struggles, I understand everyone who has struggles. This is not the case and will never be the case. Everyone has their problems and reactions to their problems. However, how someone treats their issues and struggles defines how I see them in my head. What brought these thoughts out was the fact that I have been struggling to write Runaway Part II. This post contains memories I am not 100% ready to address. Instead, I have been focusing on the life I have now and how much I have changed. What I have learned from this was how different people react to personal struggles. At a point in my life, which I hope to be able to write about for the blog one day, I hit rock bottom. I hit it hard. I was alone and scared. But I spent time building myself back up and working to be someone I was proud of. It was hard, and I made mistakes. I never changed overnight. No one can. Yet, I was open to criticism and welcomed challenges. As I have talked about in Grateful for the Pain, I began to see the good in my struggles. I saw the lessons they taught. It made me open my eyes and reevaluate my own beliefs in the world. It challenged my biases and made me grow as a person. Some days I wallowed in my struggles.

I would throw the biggest pity party hoping people would tell me I was perfect and that none of this was my fault. Soon I had to realize that I would never grow until I accepted some hard truths, and until I agreed to evaluate myself. Even when I thought others were wrong. I have noticed those around me complaining about the same old problems and asking for help. Asking how they can grow and change. Yet, I see who I was in them. I watch them ignore advice, criticism, hard truths, and more. They blame the world and never themselves. And while some days the world is to blame, others you sincerely only have yourself to blame.

I watch as these friends burn bridges hoping to find one that coddles them and makes them feel perfect. I watch them fall lower and lower, drowning. When I try and help, I am met with anger. Do I sometimes speak in ways I should no? Yes. Do my words hold too many emotions? Yes. Do I speak with these strong emotions and quick fury because I see the path you are going down? Yes. I do not want to watch you crash the same way I do. I do not want you to suffer the same way I had to. I find myself having to reel back and remind myself that sometimes you need those you love to hit rock bottom to see their own destructive behaviors. It was the only thing that saved me. It hurts. I want to cry every time. But sometimes people just want to wallow in their own sorrow. Sometimes you just have to let them.