I feel happy. Scratch that, I felt happy. I had finally felt good after a month of moving and new surroundings and new friends and I come home for one weekend and I feel like I’ve attracted the sadness. I feel like I’m carrying the weight of the world, and I can’t wait to get back to Galway to escape that. . . and that’s such a horrible feeling to have.
I don’t tell my feelings to just anyone. I’m not an open book. Ironic in a way, as this blog exists. But it’s true. I play the role of the always happy one because I feel guilty if I’m feeling a bit sad, because there’s so many people I know with genuine feelings to have. And I can’t help them. They tell me their problems, and I can’t do anything in my power to help them.
If it’s friend problems, I can help fix that. If it’s relationship problems, I can fix that. If it’s someone who has failed a test, I can help fix that. I can’t help fix when someone’s close relative is ill. I can’t even think in that mind frame. Yet that’s one of the situations I’m in.
And it’s funny, I’m somehow getting attacked. . . ish. . . and I can’t be mad. Some people get angry at the people around them when they’re sad. I’m not one of these people. But I’ve been the “victim” many times, just because I’m there listening. But I know I can never get angry at this person, and the attack isn’t aimed at me. It’s just that I so happen to be there.
Why can’t everyone be happy? The thing I learnt when I left school, is that problems got bigger. I was always the approachable person in school if anything ever went wrong. I was the first person to go to when someone needed help. Because back then I could help. Those were situations which I could deal with. But now? Now I feel helpless because people bring me these problems, and the only thing I can offer is a cup of tea.
Sure, tea is comforting. But it doesn’t help anything. It might calm the person down a bit, but the persons problems don’t go away. Nothing can. I’m just left in a mud pit of many problems. Many of which are “don’t tell anyone else”. So they can share, and I can’t. Which means I get a lot of problems, because people don’t realise that there’s someone else who’s also pouring their heart and soul out to me. So I feel like I’m just in a helpless pit of nothingness, waiting for solutions. Solutions to someone else’s problems.
And you know what sucks the most? The fact that none of the problems I have are mine. Which just makes me feel more guilt.