The Object of My Dejection


Writing Prompt:Tell us about the object of your dejection — something you made, a masterpiece unfinished, or some sort of project that failed to meet your expectations. What did you learn from the experience? How would you do things differently next time?

One of the things that you are forced to learn when you are chronically ill is that you do the things that you can do when you can do them, now to the average healthy person may be asking, “what?!” but it’s a concept that I’ve become intimately acquainted with, things often go unfinished, postponed, or just dropped based on how I’m feeling; depending on what they are I try to get back to them, and others simply are placed on self never to be seen again..

The things that gets me every time, the thing that fails my expectations more than anything else are the people around me. I think that I expect a lot from the people around me, no I know I do. I expect them to understand my limitations and help me work around them, I know that I’m a difficult person to love, and I know my circumstances are difficult because there is no normal for them, I often feel like I go from one medical crisis to another, and I understand that from some people that might be way to much to handle (but just think about how I feel) and some people in my life have chosen simple not to deal with it. It’s funny how I they try not to make it so obvious although I’m aware of what’s happening. A people who you used to spend almost all you free time with, slowly become that person (when you call) who says “I’ll call you back” and never does and eventually they turn into a person who you haven’t spoken to in over a year who you’re still “friends” with on Facebook; and ultimately they will turn in to that friend when I’ll once say, “oh yeah, I remember him”. I’m used to failed expectations, but those hurt more than anything.

I expect a lot from the people I love, and you learn that people come into your life for a reason and a season, and just likes those projects, some of them go unfinished, postponed, and sometimes they are placed on a self never to be seen again.

Until Next Time….

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