Spiderpig (emphasis added) wrote:
I think it sucks if your parents or other family members are the only people you ever "go out" with, and more so if they seem to go out of their way to show everyone you're not a real adult and have to be treated like a little kid.
ImAnAspie wrote:
What would you know. Live as long as I have and see your family die off one by one and then tell me it's sad to go out with the only remaining immediate family you have.
My mother has dementia and won't be here on this earth more than 2 years. Does that make me sad to want to go to dinner with her before she dies.
They're not going to be around forever sport. Enjoy them while you have them.
What's the alternative? To miss out on their company because you're too afraid of what some no-name stupid strangers are going to think of you.
Grow UP!
Did you not notice the bolded part? By the time my parents or other family members are dead, I'll have gone to dinner with them countless times ... and I won't have had anybody else's company, ever, unless things change a lot, which won't be exactly easy. Feeling morally compelled to be happy with them as my sole company only makes it harder, and me sicker.
I do not appreciate your implication that I don't care about them. In fact, I'm old enough to have seen a few family members die, and it hadn't been long since I'd last spent time with them.
Meanwhile, no friends, no dates, no girlfriend, no real hobbies I could share with them, no chance of doing anything that might help me break out of my ever more consolidated social isolation, nothing, ever. Oh, but it doesn't matter, because I should be happy to have my family, right? Well, I'm not. I don't know what's so wrong about wanting to have what normal people basically take for granted. And I don't mean they don't have to
earn their friendships and other relationships---I mean they can do it and aren't considered bad people for not devoting that time and energy to their families.
_________________
The red lake has been forgotten. A dust devil stuns you long enough to shroud forever those last shards of wisdom. The breeze rocking this forlorn wasteland whispers in your ears, “Não resta mais que uma sombra”.