What it means to survive.

My family seems to have a hard time with this concept.

I am seeing very clearly, that they have no frame of reference. No comprehension at all. Clueless.

Totally clueless in fact.

I won't belabor the point any more.

I have to make this very clear.

I aim to survive.

And that means, I will do what I have to.

And YOUR needs will come a distant second. A very distant second.

I once had this very optimistic perception that the people who are your flesh and blood would be the ones to stand by you and help you through hard times.

What I have come to learn is that when the shit really gets bad, they all hope that they don't have to deal with it at all.

I've learned to not trust or count on employers, coworkers, and at times, people who claim to be friends. And now I have learned not to trust or count on family.

Because all they want is for the discomfort of having me here with my issues to go away, so they don't have to deal with it.

Well, I will make it simple for all of you.

Read my fucking lips.

You don't have to worry about me, or how I will impact your lives, or your finances, or your vacation plans.

I will take care of myself.

In exchange for living here with my father, and him having to spend a lot of money to help me, what I get is guilt. Doom and gloom. Foreboding. I am made to feel like a lesser person. Not someone who is respected or cared for, but more of a nuisance, and a drain on their lives.

So, what is the most important thing in your life?

Your flesh and blood?

Your children?

Oh no. Not really. What is most important to people is themselves.

I have taken more hits, and more unfair treatment, and more losses than almost anyone I ever knew. Yet I keep trying. I keep looking for work. I keep trying to break into photography and sell what I can where I can. I keep pushing. I keep hope alive.

And all they can talk of is their situation, their life, how things impact them. Lay on the guilt. Lay on the fact that my situation really impacts them.

Well you know what?

Live a year in my fucking shoes.

I am SO angry.

Everyone has relied on me for decades. And now, I cannot help those people. I cannot give the money. I cannot make it all better. I cannot provide for my kids and my ex wife. I cannot give money to my father to help him.

Because I am fucking DYING here.

And all you do is worry about yourselves. Your life. Your future.

So, you know what?

I am worrying about mine.

You have no idea what I have lived.

And you should fucking pray on your knees that you never have to.