Hurt and Tired

I normally try to be positive and inspiring here, saving the wounds for something else.  But I have little else.  My wife listens to me consistently.  I don't have many other outlets.  I wouldn't want to write this elsewhere, because on one hand, when people did respond it would feel like fishing for sympathy, and I don't want to be an emotionally needy sort of person.  I don't want the kind of support-for-the-sake-of-showing-support that I see so much online and in other social contexts.  On the other, when people didn't respond it would be confirmation that they didn't care about things that are deeply personal for me.  But here, I don't expect an audience anyway, so I don't have to worry about people responding or not responding.

I am so tired in some ways.  I am tired of reaching out to people and having them not reach back.  It hurts when people have so many opportunities to demonstrate that they don't care for or about me.  Over, and over, and over again.  It's not that no one ever responds, but the amount of response is discouraging, to say the least.  I keep reaching out to people because I know it's a good thing to do.  People need people and the world is more socially messed up than ever.  But I also just want some people to care about me.  I want to know that there are people out there that I like and who like me in return, and who would voluntarily choose to spend time with me.  It's not as if I never experience this, but it's so little, especially compared to how much I try to reach out to others.

I try to do good things.  It feels like people assign different motives to me at times, and I hate to be misunderstood.  For example, I believe in music, I believe in teaching my children, and I believe that people should share our talents to benefit others, and this leads me to arrange for my family to sing in sacrament meetings.  With many other efforts I feel the same way.  Perhaps there's some arrogance in trying to do anything, but I'm generally keenly aware of my limitations as I attempt any endeavor.  I know that some people appreciate what I do, and yet I also feel that other people think I do it out of pride.  It feels like people support my efforts less because of those false perceived motivations.  And I am so tired from it.

I'm tired of making mistakes, also.  In so many efforts to fulfill obligations and to take on extra tasks simply because I believe they'll be good to do, I've messed up over and over again.  It's not to say that I've had no success, but amid those efforts--whether generally successful or not--I have made error after error.  It stings to realize it, and I somehow often remember those errors years later.

One of my dreams, after retiring from the Army, is to take several weeks worth of food and water and retreat to a cabin in the wilderness somewhere, away from all people and technology.  I would take books.  I would stay there at least until I forget what day it is.

And I feel like I may be tempted to largely withdraw from society in a more permanent sense.  I don't think I could ever really feel comfortable with that.  I know God wants me to serve people--despite my severe limitations--and to receive service from them.  It's pretty much that simple.  I have known it for a long time, and I've had the idea reinforced over and over again.  So I really don't think I could withdraw permanently.

But the idea is appealing.  And maybe by the time I retire from the Army and no longer have a corresponding social obligation I won't have it in me any more to be among people that I hope for real friendship and love from.  When we've been hurt repeatedly over a long time, we just aren't eager to be hurt again.

If anyone does read this, don't worry; I've lived through pain and depression a lot in the past, and I'm not inclined toward harming myself or others.  I'll survive.  I'll be fine.  My faith in my Heavenly Father and my Savior won't be weakened.  If there is anyone who has read other things that I've written here and feels that I've been dishonest before by not expressing this personal sorrow, I apologize, because dishonesty has never been my intention.  Just remember that, just like "in the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see", a heart that is more vocal out of principle can also hold plenty of sorrow.

When I was younger, I remember finding that I liked to ask people what they value, and I asked that they answer in one or two words.  Not necessarily what they value the most, but something they value.  My answer was friendship.  Implicit in that was understanding.  For some time I thought that maybe I didn't need friendship so much any more, but as more years have passed, it's clear that I still want it.

Last thoughts for now:
I should be better at seeking solace from my Savior.  I trust Him implicitly, and I know He loves me.  I just still want to feel love from others, too.  Is that a fault?  I don't know.  Perhaps in five years I'll understand better just how worn out I have been, and maybe it won't be too much.