I was frustrated for obvious reasons. I had been training for the half marathon on July 4th since mid-January. I had been open about the fact I was training for it. I had shared frustrations and successes along the way with these people “close to me”. And not one remembered. I kept reminding myself that maybe it slipped their minds. Trying to find solace in the fact their world does not revolve around me – so they forgot. But it was the response I got from them that told me that wasn’t true. Their response gave me the impression that I should skip it – and do what they wanted me to do instead.
I finally decided that it was because I don’t need that level of support like others do. That maybe that is why they chose to ignore this event. They knew I was going to do it. They knew I was going to do it because I decided to do it. That I have the strength others do not, therefore, I did not need what others would need in my situation.
I was at peace with that. I really was…..
….until after I ran the race.
If you read my breakdown of the race, you will know it was a domino effect that led me to have a pretty shitty race. It was probably one of the toughest things mentally I have done in a while. And I’ll be honest in saying that when I crossed that finish line, I wanted to sit down away from everyone and cry. I was tired. I physically hurt. I was insanely angry at myself. And I hated that my body had failed me. In short, I was just plain ole disappointed. All of that work – a solid 6 months of it, for this shitty let down. Not a good feeling to have.
I have received more support from this race from my blogger friends than I have from anyone else (outside of my husband). Of my eight millions family members (ok – 50+ on Facebook) – I received one comment from an aunt who showed support and understanding. My siblings are absent. My parents – nothing. My friends – absent. The people who should know how much this meant to me had no interest. While those who one would expect to have a passing interest had the greatest interest.
Like I told my husband, it kinda adds insult to injury realizing this little fact.
What’s funny to reflect upon is that my family, for example, will get pissy if I don’t acknowledge their lives and important moments. They’ll call me on the carpet for not caring enough. And when I point this shit out, nothing……
……..and dumb looks that tell me they don’t get it.
I’ve often spoken about how actions speak louder than words. That what you do always overrides what you say. Tell me you care about me all you want. Show me you don’t, and I’m more apt to believe that more than the words.
I just wish people would start figuring that the fuck out.
And I guess, for once, I wish they would surprise me.
Until then, I just need to start accepting the fact that most people “in my real life” are simply the voyeurs in my life.
Quite ironic given the fact most would consider the blog readers the voyeurs – not the ones more involved.