I was so naive. I kinda still am about people and relationships and life. I always believed that everyone was like me. I never encountered liars and cheaters and people that just don’t care about anything but themselves until I left my husband. After Mom and Dad die, there is really no one else that really cares about you. At least that is my reality. I mean, yes, my kids care. I know that they would be there for me if I really needed them, just the same as I am there for them. But once they’re grown, they don’t want me in their lives too much. I remember how it was to be their age. You just want to do what you want, when you want and for Mom to stay out of it unless I call and ask for help. Everyone is only looking to make themselves feel good. They really don’t care if you’re feeling ok. If they truly cared, they would see past your fake smile with matching flimflam coming from your lips about how wonderful life is. I’ve been there. I understand not questioning further. You don’t want to ask further. You don’t want them to feel like you think they aren’t well. If I don’t tell you life is awful, I won’t have to do anything to change it. Because I certainly can’t acknowledge it’s awful and then not do anything to change it. I get it. Maybe, I just don’t care? Maybe I should care? I don’t know. That question makes me feel anxious. I kinda feel like I just need to care about myself. F*** everyone else. They should worry about themselves and stop expecting anyone to save them from feeling crappy. Idk.