How come others get sympathy when they complain about
having had a bad day or a fight with their boyfriend, but when I'm desperate because of the pain or because I've just learned that part of my family's house burnt down (happened in January), it's all not really that bad? How come I'm there for people and then I have nobody I can call, but get complaints when, for once, I just think about
myself and take care of myself? What's with these double standards of I have to take other people's problems seriously, but what I'm struggling with isn't really that bad?
I have withdrawn from many "friends" who took it for granted that I always listened to them (and I am a good listener and sometimes way too ready to listen), but felt offended as soon as I wouldn't do it or spent some time taking care of myself and my boyfriend.
And I have to admit that sometimes I still get incredibly angry at doctors whom I saw about
the pain in my knees and who just told me to exercise more or wanted to send me to a psychiatrist because I was probably making it up or probably just had an eating disorder and exercised too much (eating disorder with a BMI of 19? come on!) when there was something going on which isn't even that rare and isn't that hard to diagnose. At the age of 25, I have to worry about
maybe not being able to walk properly in 20 years and about
having to go through surgeries, probably several, at some point in my life. I have to worry about
how healthy I will be when I have children in a few years, whether I'll be able to play with them and have fun with them. When the pain is so bad I walk with a limp, I feel unattractive and ashamed about
my good-looking boyfriend having a woman at his side who is 17 years younger than him but walks as if she was 30 years older than him. I hate it when we practise swordfencing and I have to take a break in between because my knees are hurting. And it all could have been avoided if the doctors had just taken my pain seriously.
Post Edited (Áthas) : 8/27/2010 2:38:56 AM (GMT-6)