I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to function properly in society. Every day I become more and more disaffected with what I see. How we treat others, how we perceive them and are perceived by them, these things have become major issues for me, and I’m finding myself incapable of dealing with them.
A big part of me wants to move to a little cabin way out in the middle of nowhere, and just live my life surrounded by the nature that I love, communing with the earth in my own way, practicing my craft.
Of course, I don’t do that because I’m still needed here, and also because I’m tied to this society due to my body’s inability to produce insulin on its own.
It’s just I cannot abide by this constant onslaught on reason, compassion, kindness, and forgiveness. Our society, at least in the U.S., is becoming harder, meaner, we’re embracing a vicious form of cleverness that eschews the opportunity to listen and understand, in favor of a good comeback or quick verbal stinger.
I feel like I’m not as capable of communicating with people as I once was. I don’t mean solely by words, but by empathy, by the connection humans are supposed to have with one another. I feel so alone in a room of many. I talk to so many people, but am I really talking to them, or just at them? Is what I’m saying affecting their hearts? Are they thinking on my words? On my emotions?
I don’t know.
Right now I’m physically, mentally, and emotionally fatigued. My mom is experiencing a few quirks that I haven’t seen before, so I’m having to keep an eye out on her. She’s been having trouble sleeping, so I cover her up, sit next to her, and hum as I stroke her hair. It helps her calm down, and it imparts to her that I’m here, and that she’s in good hands with me.
I love my mom dearly. I love my dad. I love my family, and my friends. I love people so much. There is this palpable, ever-present sense of urgency, a painful urgency, where I feel that I must do what I can while I can, because I believe my time is limited.
I can’t do anything about the feeling itself, it’s a part of me, always has been. I cannot fight it. I want to hug everyone, I would kiss them if they would let me. I want to joke with little old people, I want to give kids quarters so they can get bubble gum out of machines, I want to give $20 tips to waitresses so I can make their day. I want to give someone my seat on a bus. I want to buy someone lunch, or dinner. I want to pay someone’s medical bills. I want to feed every hungry mouth in the world, and I’m sorry but I’m crying here because I can’t help these feelings, they just pour right out of me, and I can’t make them stop, not that I would.
My instincts are to protect, nurture, uplift, and love. It’s in everything that makes me who I am. It energizes me, because even as I type this, the fatigue subsides, and I feel this burning need to do something, to change something, to make someone’s life better. It is what powers me, because that drive is all I really have left. It keeps me alive.
Did you know that I hate myself? I’m sure many of you wouldn’t be a bit surprised, but for those new here, or for people who just didn’t realize, I hate myself. I despise myself. I do not believe I’m worthy of love, consideration, kindness, or respect. YET even as I say this, there is a teeny tiny voice deep down inside that says I am worthy of all of these things. THAT is my drive, my empathy pushing upward to tell me that yes, I too am worthy of these things, so it even works on me.
I firmly believe that if my love of humanity ever left me, I’d collapse in a heap because it would be the only thing keeping this pathetic excuse for a human body upright. Whether that’s true or not, I don’t know, but I hope never to find out.
Just some ruminating this morning, as I listen to the rain tapping on the window glass.
Still, just in case, I’d like to say that I love you, and that even if I were hated by everyone on this earth, I would still have love for all of you.