The Weight

I’ve been having a brief but interesting chat with one of my twitter mates tonight about chronic/severe illness (cancer) and it eventually led to a chat about the person with the illness keeping the real severity to themselves to try to remove the burden from loved ones.

I’ve never had cancer but I can in a way, relate with my PTSD. I also have a friend who died from cancer last year. We knew she was sick, but her severity was very much kept to herself. When she died, the shock and grief were so raw. She was a young woman leaving behind young children. However that was her, she was the stitching that kept the fabric of her family together.

We live in a world where people lose interest if the storyline isn’t kept fresh. Where we have an acronym for internet speak, TL:DR (Too Long: Don’t Read) for when messages are longer than a Tweet. Where we are often so busy we can’t stop to look out of the window let alone go outside to stand in the fresh air. As it is, it’s nearly 11pm and I’m still trying to finish cleaning the kitchen because tomorrow is the start of another working week.

I shamefully don’t have time to listen to the needs of others. I’m so flat stick keeping up with myself and my family. Worrying about my friends was at times making me unwell. Care fatigue. Burn out. Frustration. I have had to make decisions to benefit me over the needs of the people around me.

Take a load off Fanny, take a load for free
Take a load off Fanny, and, and, and you put the load right on me

Is this the society that I want to live in? Absolutely not. I want to coexist in a world with my fellow humans that feel comfortable enough to talk. To take the load off by sharing their troubles. To know that we all have a safety net to rely upon when we fall and can’t get up.

Interestingly I don’t tell people how I really feel anymore. Mostly for all of the reasons I’ve written about here.

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