No Savior
How does one keep their head above water--without drowning--when it appears all depends on them? I mean that in a sense of one being the sole person everyone depends on, maybe family.
The pressure of having to be the "good one" has forever weighed heavily on my shoulders, but I never noticed how much the weight was on me until real life kicked me in the ass--or should I say, kicked my family in the ass?
I'm trying to find a way to express myself without coming off as bitter or mad or upset. Or perhaps I am upset. That, along with saddened and a bit fed up. Or just exhausted. That word seems more fitting.
To paint a clearer picture, my family (to me) has always involved my mother, father my older sister and me. Out of us four, I have found myself as the sole provider.
No blame is on my mother. She has always done the best she could. Being sick, she's not capable of being the provider like she used to be.The other two, to even reminisce about it brings a pitiful stirring to my heart that I wish had never had a chance of existing.
That leaves me.
Me, the one that is approached for anything important--I emphasize--that can't be provided for. I say important, because they can seem to purchase anything materialistic, but after all of that is paid for, the important stuff is left. Again, my mother is left out of this.
I am the back-up plan. I am The Bank of Shaire. And that's all it ever is for, or ever comes to--money.
I have seen struggle. I have been a part of struggle. I have somewhat built myself to not see struggle again, and try to continue to. I want to be able to take care of my family one day without that one worry--money. I have worked my ass of to do it, if one would ask me. I know I still have far to go. It just hurts sometimes, me trying to better myself, and yet being dragged back down with the constant request of money.
It's a constant frustration of wishing others could get their shit checked. I'm younger than them, in college, and yet I'm the one hands are held out to. I feel there is so much wrong with that picture.
But yet, I feed the hands when a roof over heads are at risk or diapers are needed. I feed the hands over and over again.
They say that sometimes you have to allow a person to fall so they can get up on their own. It seems I fight with familiar statements, but it all goes in one ear and out the other.
Maybe words are not enough anymore, or arguments, or silence when I'm completely mad. Maybe the fall must really happen, no matter the costs.
I am no savior. They need to figure that out.
I'm one person who still hasn't gotten all her shit together, and if they continue to get my help, I will soon be of no good to them because my well would eventually run dry.
Yet I say this after just giving more money away...
The pressure of having to be the "good one" has forever weighed heavily on my shoulders, but I never noticed how much the weight was on me until real life kicked me in the ass--or should I say, kicked my family in the ass?
I'm trying to find a way to express myself without coming off as bitter or mad or upset. Or perhaps I am upset. That, along with saddened and a bit fed up. Or just exhausted. That word seems more fitting.
To paint a clearer picture, my family (to me) has always involved my mother, father my older sister and me. Out of us four, I have found myself as the sole provider.
No blame is on my mother. She has always done the best she could. Being sick, she's not capable of being the provider like she used to be.The other two, to even reminisce about it brings a pitiful stirring to my heart that I wish had never had a chance of existing.
That leaves me.
Me, the one that is approached for anything important--I emphasize--that can't be provided for. I say important, because they can seem to purchase anything materialistic, but after all of that is paid for, the important stuff is left. Again, my mother is left out of this.
I am the back-up plan. I am The Bank of Shaire. And that's all it ever is for, or ever comes to--money.
I have seen struggle. I have been a part of struggle. I have somewhat built myself to not see struggle again, and try to continue to. I want to be able to take care of my family one day without that one worry--money. I have worked my ass of to do it, if one would ask me. I know I still have far to go. It just hurts sometimes, me trying to better myself, and yet being dragged back down with the constant request of money.
It's a constant frustration of wishing others could get their shit checked. I'm younger than them, in college, and yet I'm the one hands are held out to. I feel there is so much wrong with that picture.
But yet, I feed the hands when a roof over heads are at risk or diapers are needed. I feed the hands over and over again.
They say that sometimes you have to allow a person to fall so they can get up on their own. It seems I fight with familiar statements, but it all goes in one ear and out the other.
Maybe words are not enough anymore, or arguments, or silence when I'm completely mad. Maybe the fall must really happen, no matter the costs.
I am no savior. They need to figure that out.
I'm one person who still hasn't gotten all her shit together, and if they continue to get my help, I will soon be of no good to them because my well would eventually run dry.
Yet I say this after just giving more money away...
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