Trust No One

What is trust anyway? An emotion? A humane desire? A need? Can it be bought or bartered for? Am I the only one with this affliction?

My trust has always been true. To friends, my children and my family members. It wasn’t until recently, this week as a matter of fact, that I have had to look closer at myself about my trust issues. A Facebook friend, not even one whom I know personally but whom I had enjoyed his adventures as a treasure hunter, made me take a serious look at myself. Regrettably I accused him of wrongdoing and for that I am ashamed.

Until now I never really thought much about how I became so mistrusting over the years. has become my only way of life, a necessity. It has never dawned on me why I even find it comforting to vacation alone but looking back I have now taken a trip with anyone in almost 5 years.

My ex husband was probably the first person that betrayed my trust. Spending money we didn’t have, fulfilling his material needs while allowing us to fall into bankruptcy and coming close to losing our home.

In 2009 I had to deal with breast cancer and decided to seek medical treatment in a foreign country due to the lack of insurance. I had always heard that the American Cancer Society was there for those whom had no support, my calls went unreturned. I was so fearful of the outcome or of dying alone that I offered to pay a friend’s expenses to accompany me to Peru for treatments. This woman whom I thought to be the truest of friends. I paid every expense imaginable for her to come with me for my double mastectomy. I took out a second mortgage for my medical needs as well as our travel expenses. I paid for her passport, flight, meals, transportation as well as her living expenses while in Lima. It wasn’t until she visited a local dentist there while I was in my doctors care, ordered veneers for her new smile and left me holding the $700 bill, did I realized I could not even trust my one close friend in my life. At that time I sent her back to the states and have never spoken to her again.

My family made no effort to help in any way. I know they felt sorry for me but not one relative ask “How can I help”? Yes, living 8 hours away didn’t help and it’s understandable that everyone has their own lives, troubles and needs to deal with in their own lives but, come on! The devastation of learning you have cancer is a life changing event, one that deserves at least a hug. I even had to pay someone to pick me up at the airport upon my return home. This issue remains a thorn in my side to this day.

To make matters much worse, upon my return I found that my job aboard a salvage vessel had also fell to the way side. Not only was my position gone but the $25,000 loan to the company was in jeopardy of being repaid. Eventually this was recovered but not after having to threaten to confiscate the boat and the trust I had put into my employer completely demolished. Someone whom I dearly cared for, looked up to and had trusted entirely.

This was at a time when the economy had dropped to a new low, jobs hard to find, salary’s less than adequate and lives being destroyed across the country.

At times my power was in danger of being shut off, my home threatened by foreclosure and my life spiraled down to the deepest depths of depression from PTSD and the need and craving for help. I made bad decisions, looked for the wrong answers and slowly lost myself and my self-respect. There was no one there to help pull me back up. The man I was involved in at the time looked the other way as well.

Over these next few years I was so ashamed of what my life had become that I avoided the friends I had once had and made sure not to make any new ones. I could not hold a job for more than a few months and my contentious fear of loosing my job became so extreme it actually cost me my jobs. I spent my days in bed and nights unable to sleep.

I made some major changes along the way. I had to move to another state to find work. Fortunately I found excellent renters for my home and my cousin was on the other end to help pick up the pieces. After a year and a half I though I could return and make my life as it had been in better days. It didn’t happen. I strived to make a better life by starting a new business although I put an extreme amount of money and work into it as well as my heart, it failed. After a while I, once again, ran away to Central America alone for 6 weeks backpacking.

What kind of life is this? A very sad and lonely one. The avoidance of men for companionship, due to my surgery, has become the norm. My only social life I am able to endure and feel comfort is through communication and posts on the social media networks.

How is one to deal with trust issues? Trust again and endure more disappointments or live with no expectations of another person?


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