Life is interesting…. like how I grew up with a single mother who was tired and didn’t want to do my laundry. She wasn’t that much into cooking or grocery shopping, but she was a great mom. Sometimes when I hear about how my friends parents took care of them and/or still get care of them I get so mad. It seems so unjust, why didn’t someone pamper me like that? Why did I have to take care of myself all the time?

I start to think those questions and then I think, well would I want to change who I am? No, has it made me dependable, reliable, able to take care of myself and others? Yes, it has, has that helped me in life? Yes. Does it sometimes suck to grow up so early, absolutely. Would my mom have changed it if she could have, yes? Why do I always want someone to take care of me? I wonder if wanting it so bad is what repels it from my life. It’s also interesting though that when someone else takes care of me I push them away, I think I’m not worthy, I think that I’m weak. I think that it makes me vulnerable and I don’t like it. Then I think of how much I enjoy taking care of other people and how good I am at it and yet I am deathly afraid of someone actually caring for me.

I remember when I lived in Nashville, I had only lived there a few months and only had a few friends and two good friends. I got REALLY sick, I could barely lift my head and I needed gatorade, because I so dehydrated, but couldn’t keep anything down. My friend Robin left work to bring me stuff and make sure I was okay and it was hard for me, but it was nice.

Last year when everything was happening with Jason. I remember driving down the road and basically had what I think amounts to a panic attack and I called Mark at work. I’ve never called him at work and have never had plans to call him at work and he helped calm me down, I felt taken care of.

I think it’s interesting when I want my mom to take care of me and she’s around and she tries to, I push her away. I think it’s interesting that I never think of a father taking care of me. I never even think of my dad wanting to take care of me. That to me is abnormal.

I’m not saying that people haven’t been there for me, they have. I have amazing friends who have done and ment a lot to me, but for the most part, I’m used to having the island of misty. I’m getting better as I get older, I’m getting better at saying I need help, I need you, I can’t do this, but it’s hard to admit that.

Maybe that’s partially what life is all about to need people and to let them need to help you.