The Martyr, The Complainer, The Rock, Lizeth. Who am I? A friend once told me that I am a martyr for putting myself through relationships that bring no good to me. The complainer, most people think I complain about EVERYTHING and ANYTHING. The Rock, the one who will stay through any hardship and endure it. Lizeth, That's my name but at this point, I don't know who I am or what purpose I may have.
Martyr. I made a promise to my mother that I have no intentions of breaking. I was taught that a promise is a promise and it is to be kept. If you don't keep a promise then what validity may your word have? I made a promise on my mother's death bed about our family situation. A friend, who will remain anonymous, but she knows who she is, told me that I can't always take crap from family only to comply with that promise. My godmother also told me the same but my conscious and my word to my mom, does not let me break that promise. I go through so many hardships dealing with certain family members but I put up with it because of that promise. I deal with "family" treating me as if I were nothing. I help and help but see no good outcome of it. When I stand up for myself I am told "You have a bad attitude that needs to be adjusted. Due to your bad attitude, you have bad working experiences, no one likes you and that's why you have little to no friends." As you read this, if you know me, you know who I am talking about.
The Complainer. I always complain as a way to vent my problems out. The more I hold in, the more reclusive I become. I do not want to become that person that looked like she had it all and one day just snapped and ended up in jail, in a mental institution or dead. As time passes by, I realize that people are tired of hearing me talk about problems, predominately on Facebook. Again, it's MY space...my place to vent. If you don't like it or are annoyed by it, then delete me! Simple. I dwell on certain situations or things for a bit and to be attacked for "complaining" is just hard to deal with. This was months ago but it hasn't escaped me because I try to better myself on a daily basis and since I have not stopped complaining, it lingers in the back of my mind.
The Rock. No matter how much my family may push my buttons or just be jack asses to me, I know that I will always be there for them. I have a way of putting myself and my own problems on the back burner to help others. I have always been that way and find it hard to change. My boyfriend once told me "You're a great person and want to help everyone but you can't help the world! Help when you can and don't when you can't. Do you and only you otherwise you'll spend your life helping others and they won't appreciate it anyway." I hate to admit it but he is completely right. I just can't help but be that person people turn to for help.
Lizeth. At this point in my life, I don't know who I am or what my purpose is. As a child, my purpose was to go to school, study, and eventually graduate. As an adult, my job was to go to college, study, and eventually graduate. As a 20 year old my purpose was to love and care for my mother. At 23, my purpose was gone and I was lost. With half my family nagging me to get a job and the other half nagging me to go to school, I was lost as to what to do. I chose to go to work and ended up working with family which is only adding to my ever growing problems. I am now working full time and going to school full time and I can honestly say that it is draining the life out of me. At work, I'm Lizeth the receptionist with an asshole boss. At school, I'm Lizeth the absentee student that still excels. At home, I'm just lost. Out of work and school, I don't know who to be. No one is ever happy with my decisions, if I make any at all.
This rant came out of my Mother's Day Blues. I've said it time and time again, I don't resent my mother being gone. I resent not being able to go with her. Hearing people say "She is OUR mother and she needs to realize that she doesn't have one anymore" is just harsh and over all mean. I do not try to take anyone's mother because they will never add up to what my mother was and continues to be to me. I appreciate others' mothers because I, unlike others, know what it is like to not have a mother but for some reason, I'm always in it to take their mom. Go figure. All I knwo is that with my mom around, I had issues with identity but nothing that I could not figure out. With her around, I didn't have family treating me worse than if I was some scoundrel off the street. With her around, I didn't have to worry about having someone love me because she loved me through thick and thin. But until I join her or figure out who I am or want to be, there isn't much I can do but complain and rant about my life.