Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn’t matter to me. 
Going to bed at night saying we’ve done something wonderful… 
that’s what matters to me.

-- Steve Jobs

The last span of days have been challenging in the extreme. The amount of drinking, of thinking, of fretting, and worrying has taken a toll. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

It’s been hard to keep a positive attitude through all this; when your mood is on a rollercoaster to hell, nothing really seems to matter. The simple act of getting out of bed in the mornings takes an exhausting amount of motivation.

Friends and family have helped - and hindered - this effort. In a few cases, they have come close to shattering me.

I’ve never been good at admitting that I was wrong, or that I had made mistakes, or that there were things that I couldn’t handle. I always fixed things - a problem arises, you fix it. You don’t complain, you don’t whine, you just go through and make it right. You make the mistaken assumption that those you take care of will appreciate what you do and that if you never need that type of care or understanding that they will return the favor.

An unfortunate discover is that is a false assumption in many cases for me. People I dedicated my life to caring for, to nurturing, to helping forward have been the first to rise up in righteous indignation against me. Anything that I may be going through pales in comparison to what they think I should be doing…with the emphasis on the fact that my actions may have yet-to-be-defined consequences that I will have to face.

Welcome to the world of conditional love, love with strings, do-as-we-say or you are unloved. This is where understanding is something you don’t get, and where judging is name of the game. If you don’t do what we want you to do…well, then you’re on your own.

It hurts in a way that is hard to describe; I did expect better, but the more cynical part of my brain tells me that I had no reason to expect any better. That they are just acting out the self-absorption that I allowed them to grow into by going above and beyond what I should have to take care of them. I have, in a very real sense, gotten to the point where I’m reaping what I’ve sown.

Over the last year or so I’ve begun to purge the toxic from my life; I’ve taken people who function as anchors, who do nothing but take, who do nothing but drag me down to their pettiness and put firm boundaries between us. Going through this has hurt, but beyond the hurt there is a degree of acceptance that this is necessary to fully heal.

These last few weeks have shown me that I have some way to go here; that there are others who need to be removed either temporarily or permanently. Life is just no fun when you are continually worried about what everyone else thinks or does, or what consequences you may face because you are not living up to someone else’s preconceived notion of how you should be.

It’s not been all bad; the struggles have highlighted who really cares about me, those who support me through it all, those who want me to be happy, no matter what that may mean. Those who are not afraid to talk through uncomfortable subjects, bear witness to my pain, and accept that although it’s mine to manage and solve the thought of a loving friend standing by to just be there if needed makes it all better.

It’s those people who help me maintain a modicum of positive feeling when I go to bed. Being able to meet people like that and make them part of my life - that constitutes the bit of wonderfulness I accomplish on a daily basis.