I think, then I write. So many random thoughts and feelings that go unexpressed get converted to a mixture of words in a struggling attempt to relieve the pressure.
The ever escalating conundrum that is my mind spews out so much, it just gets too much at times.
Yesterday I sat with a friend who is a broken shadow of who she was, or at least the image she used to maintain. The saddest part was the look in her eyes had not changed, only the outward control on her emotional barrier. It had broken down under the weight of those little problems she had been ignoring.
After offering words of comfort, advise and reassurance she was once again calm. As we parted company she said “You’re a good friend.” Without hesitation my answer was ‘I will be what ever I’m needed to be.’ This got me thinking even more.
Words of my own admission echoed throughout the night and into the dawn. I was nothing if not honest, yet I wanted to be everything to everyone… Had I become so distant over the years that I would help people in what ever way possible purely for their acceptance?
What had I become?
To shoulder the burdens of others is a means to help them. What I didn’t realise was that every time I did this, I was not a friend, not a companion; I was only a tool, a crutch.
Suddenly one of my greatest weaknesses was revealed to me.