Send in the Clowns

I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless
and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.
—Robin Williams

I have been thinking about this irony quite a bit lately.  Most people think I’m a very happy, successful person who is well-adjusted and lives a good life. Some are shocked that I’ve had major challenges in my life.

I always try to make people feel a bit better about their mood or circumstances because I’d never want them to feel the terrible way I do inside most of the time.

What I find is that I’m left with no one to listen to me they way I listen to others. There are a number of people in my life who only contact me when they need something; advice or an ear, etc. Then, they are gone once they’ve gotten what they’ve needed. It is hard for me to make real friends despite my outgoing personality because they tend to be one sided. As anyone would, I tire of that quickly.

I find that I spend a lot of time alone. I am able to do so many things that most of the time I do not need to ask for help. Recently, I realized what a lonely life I really lead. The irony is that I’d really like to be involved with people who care about me. I’d like to have an inner circle that I could count on. It is strange how much I can make other people feel good, but I am alone; in my solitude with my nagging thoughts and there is often no one to comfort me.

For the 4th of July weekend, I visited a part of my family that I was estranged from for a long time. As I talked to my father’s only remaining sibling, looked through albums and watched my cousin interact with the family, I began to see patterns that have lasted generations. I haven’t even taken it all in yet, but I noticed the anger and the violence and the destruction. There may be one person on my dad’s side that is still married to their first spouse. Even those who are married are not in healthy relationships. I saw the way my family cuts people down and makes them feel small. I saw the vindictiveness and the way that the anger has turned inward on each person who lets their anger loose on someone else. I watched how they just struggle to find reasons to keep staying alive. I thought to myself how familiar it all is.

Everybody in my family has a broken piece in the unit; a missing father or husband, an angry man, a passive agressive spouse, co-dependents. I don’t think we even realize that we’re actually grieving that loss. It all comes out in wierd ways that we try to use to manage how close or how far away we keep you from knowing that pain. It’s like no one told us we could share the burden. 

I simultaneously draw people close and push them away with my humor depending whether I think they could handle the grief. I’m lonely because I learned that I cannot rely on people to stick around even if they promise forever or unconditional love. I cannot let them share my grief because to open it up with someone who will not stay by my side through thick and thin is to do nothing different than I’ve always done. Because I always get the same result, I don’t know how it feels to share with someone who actually keeps their words and doesn’t leave. I would very much like to know that feeling.

Here’s the thing, you can’t believe something else is possible if you’ve never experienced it. My experience is a lot of pain. I would like to be loved by someone who would let me stop being a comedian. In the meanwhile, I make people laugh because I don’t want them to come close to feeling the pain I do.

With love from aneternaltraveler 😉

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