- I am a young college student in New England trying to find my path towards a career in literature. I am also trying to find my path in the maze that is Bipolar depression and mood disorder. I believe that there is something divine in the pain of life, and I have great hope and love for those sufferers.
Friday, April 23, 2010
I've noticed an odd, insidious habit that a lot of people have picked up. Most of the time it goes unnoticed because there's rarely an occasion to call someone out on it, but my life has become that occasion...so I am. It's that If there's anything I can do line. Oh, you know how it goes. You're sick, or you're stressed (or your grandmother dies and your mother flies out to AZ and you're left to be the sole food-giver-laundry-doer-picker-up er-of-the-house-until-she-gets-back-along-with-your-regular-academic-duties person) and some truly decent people offer their compassion in the form of the previous sentiment or some variation. Now I'm not saying they don't mean it. I'm not saying any of these people wouldn't bring you a casserole or come right back at you with a really great well meaning platitude. What I am saying is not many of these people would drive to wherever you are and hold your hand while you cry. In an age filled to the brim with non physical communication and contact, the thing that can make the most difference, that can stop The Pain faster than any Valium...is physical communication and contact. All the well worded texts in the world can't hold a candle to a warm body that wants to be there. So is it any wonder we're shutting down? Is it any wonder that it's like prying open a steal lock to get any ounce of emotion out of us? Because what's there for us when we do? A warm and fuzzy 'new message'. And boy, if there's anything that's great to wrap your arms around in the middle of the night....it's a Verizon contract.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
In honor of Easter, and Christ rising again, I've been making an effort all day to try to remember what I'm supposed to remember, and then feel. I've been trying to thank God that our house is dry and safe as I go around vacuuming and dusting. Trying to thank God for my family's relative health, and the blessing that we are all still here, together. Trying to thank God for the chance to see my grandparents in AZ last fall, now that my grandmother's health is rapidly declining. I've been trying to go over and over my blessings, hoping if I say them like some sort of chant then I will feel blessed. I think the opposite is happening. I feel cursed. Thrown out and unimportant. Instead of being filled with warmth and light, I feel like there's a crack in me that's letting all the garbage in. I truly do not want to pity myself, and I truly DO want to FEEL my blessings. The soul must be smarter than I thought though. It knows when you're bs-ing it.