Uncomfortable realities

I don't talk much about the things going on around me, usually I speak more of the things going on specifically about myself. Every morning since my dad has retired, my mum complains at how he doesn't do anything with his life. In a big way my dad is a magnifying glass of all my own securities. My dad is really overweight, has little motivation and never does very much now that he's retired.

I have a friend in the family, I feel quite bad for him. This friend of the family, lets call him Hank, has suffered from some quite severe depression over the past couple of years. We had a death in our community of a very special woman, she suffered from cancer on and off for 17 years and as she died, Hank got very upset. This woman used to call Hank up every so often and because not many people visited him or payed much attention to him, it was quite devastating for him as this woman was very close to him when he was growing up. It was especially difficult for him as he lost his best friend a year prior to that. They were at the same school together, I think they both had cerebral palsy (they were at a specialist school) and their bond was quite strong from what I heard.

Losing a friend in that way is just incomprehensible in my personal experience. I can be good at sympathising or empathising with people, but I have no way of grasping how this poor guy feels. I heard over the past week from his parents that he was in a very bad way this month, perhaps parents these days are good at talking about mental illness, well, from my perspective it seems everyone is good at being sensitive about it, until it reaches their own doorstep. My parents refuse to acknowledge what happened to me. It's always different for other people, that's what makes me sick, that's why I hate when my dad lays in bed. I hate what he represents, I hate what he shows in me, it is my uncomfortable reality.

Real life is about going on in spite of all the shit. There is sometimes an oyster in that horribly polluted shell of life.