What is a reasonable time that family and friends should have pity on you?
For instance, in 1995 I got a traumatic brain injury. I was thrown through the windshield of my truck and woke up a few weeks later. Yes, I know, I should have worn my seatbelt, put that under “lessons learned.” It has been a long recovery and I’m doing well (3.5 in college, B in calculus). My family no longer accepts, “I was brain damaged in an automobile accident” as a reasonable excuse. I think I deserve more pity so I bring it to the SDMB for consideration.
Then, back in August, I was walking up the steps and my dog ran between my legs. I fell and ripped my thumbnail off. Not broke, but peeled back to the quick. In a week it all fell off. Living without being able to use my thumb for a few weeks was like being in Hell. The nail is now half grown and it doesn’t hurt so bad but I think I deserve more pity. Woe is me.
The list could go on and on. I have suffered greatly in 43 years. I deserve more pity than I get. What about you?
Please note: In an earlier thread I stated that there just isn’t anything to do on Sunday mornings.
Expecting pity does not engender sympathy… I sympathise for you due to your injuries but I can’t help but wonder what real life interaction with you would be like. Are you demanding? Perhaps passive/aggressive? Do you tend to get upset easily when someone doesn’t live up to your expectations of how they should feel towards you?
A lot of what happens to someone (in regards to personal relationships) depends on how well they treat others.
So yeah, maybe life hasn’t been fair to you, and you’ve made some great strides despite your limitations. But, when others think about you, just exactly what have you given them to think about?
Disclaimer: I don’t know you, I’m basing all of this on my own experiences and the mere fact that you would post about expecting pity.
Let me give you another story for a bit of perspective and a view of another mindset.
Someone I knew years ago was in an auto accident. This was in the days before air bags and seatbelts, and she was thrown from the car. The first aid squad found her not breathing and with no heartbeat. They used whatever means they had available at the time and restored vital functions. She spend a long, long time in the hospital. When all that could be done had been done, she returned home but was left with permanent damage to her leg and foot due to shattered bones; she walked with difficulty and with much pain. A mutual friend said to her one day, “Barbara, you live with such problems and so much pain all the time. How come you are so cheerful?” “Are you serious?” Barbara answered. “I was dead on the side of the road, and now I am alive. What more could I want?”
IMHO a person with a disability of some sort should be given breaks when they can’t do what they’d like as easily – given extra time, understanding, etc. as needed. But pity? What good does that do?
Please forgive me all, I was allowing myself a little self-pity this morning in celebration of another new year. It was three years after I hit the tree in '95 before I had the motor skills or the mental capacity to exist as an individual and leave home on my own. The thing that struck me most as I explored the new world was that there were people that were hurt much worse than me. I am really grateful for my recovery. Last year Fast Eddie, the highway patrolman that worked my accident saw me in the grocery store. He told me that the last time he had seen me, they were loading me onto an ambulance and beginning CPR. He said that he was pretty sure I had died. I often tell people that having been dead before gives one a unique outlook on life.
Once again, forgive my indulgence this morning and if I need to find sympathy, I’ll look between sh*t and syphilis in the dictionary.
That’s ok; we all seem to need to feel sorry for our own misfortunes from time to time. I am prone to it myself, since I suffer from a couple of chronic problems (nowhere near as serious as yours) and need to remind myself of Barbara’s story occasionally.
When in her twenties my mother was in a car accident, thrown through a barbed wire fence and had both legs crushed and one foot amputated. They said she wouldn’t walk again, although they were able to re-attach the foot. She doesn’t have an ankle there, however. Later she had cancer while she was carrying me, her 7th child. She had me and a hyssterectomy. Because of all the drugs pumped into her, she developed multiple chemical and drug allergies, causing open running sores nearly continously for the last 50 years. At 60 she developed breast cancer and had a mastectomy. a couple years later she lost my father to lung cancer. Then she had a blocked aorta, having to have surgery that opened her all down her torso. She had a stint put in where her aorta split into her legs. Then a coupe years later she had to have a triple bypass, double valve replacement. Last year she had a massive stroke. They told us to put her in a “long-term care facility”. She worked tremendously hard at rehab. The therapists said most people don’t put the work in necessary to recover. She did everything they gave her and more. And although she’ll probably never be the same, she’s doing wonderfully well. Now, as a result of the stroke she sufferes from minor seizures. But you’ll still rarely hear a single would of complaint. Instead she’s gerateful for all she has, knowing how it could be.
Sympathy and empathy aren’t bad things, but it’s too easy to expect it forever and too lean on it. A person has to kearn to make the most with what they have and go on with their lives.
