Because I can't. Seriously, I've convinced myself that I absolutely cannot have a bad day. It just doesn't fit in. And so I don't.
On a completely unrelated note, I'm moving the date of my commitment to a mental institution up: one day for every day I live by this ridiculous philosophy.
I don't know if I've always been like this, never wanting to be a burden on other people. I don't remember it so much when I was younger, but I do remember not wanting to be a hassle and simultaneously expecting people to let me down, which also is a really healthy way to go. I've always not liked it when people around me were upset with me (my family might argue this, but really, I didn't like it when they were mad at me either), and I generally go above and beyond to bend over backwards. This is why I once wrote four stories in one day in college, why I've had more than a dozen 12-hour days in my working life and why I frequently ended up sitting alone at ward council and PEC meetings instead of demanding my committee chair be there.
Anyway, I digress, which is no surprise. I do remember, shortly before my father died, that I got four blessings in four months from three people. Every single one of 'em made some reference to me being strong enough for other people to lean on. What I heard was, "Stand up straight, Toth, and throw the world on your shoulders."
That's how I've lived since then. I don't ask for help. I don't tell people about my problems. If someone else in my life has a problem, I deal with that problem, not my own. My tear ducts have died. I'm so far gone that I actually am embarrassed and feel a little silly about emotional stuff.
Which is why I typed this entire blog post about this instead of what I'm actually thinking about.