I've often wondered what it would be like to live someone else's life. Not someone drastically different necessarily, just people I come across everyday. I wonder what living their life would feel like. I wonder how their minds work. How they react to things. I wonder whether they feel the same things I do in specific situations. I wonder if they go through the same turmoil that takes up most of my energy. I wonder if it is as difficult for them to open their eyes and get off the bed every morning as it is for me. Do they too feel like giving it all up several times a day? Do they too go through very high highs and very low lows, all in a span of a few hours? Do they too yearn for a different reality? Do they too look at me and wonder what it is like living in my head?
I wonder if everyone feels things as deeply as I do. If they do, how do they get through the day? I know people who have dreams like owning a specific, very expensive car or creating a very posh clinic. I think those things too sometimes. The next second I'm hit with how meaningless all that is to me. Then I think about what I want out of life. The constant answer through many years has been: peace. All I want is for my mind to be at peace. All I want is to be in a place where I get up every morning and don't yearn for some other reality. And every time I picture myself in this state of being at peace, I am alone. And that relieves me a little bit. I don't picture myself with somebody. It is a very specific picture actually. I am outdoors. There's a stream and on its banks, a huge tree. It is sunny, but pleasantly so. I'm dressed like a man, weirdly. I am walking on the grass. I'm smiling but not thinking. Then I go sit by the stream with my legs outstretched. I close my eyes and listen. The only sound is that of the water running by. I am at peace.
I've often found myself bending and contorting myself to suit what I perceived as people's expectations of me. The most recent one was what I'm still reeling under. I behaved in a way I normally wouldn't. I said things and did things I normally wouldn't. Why? Because I thought if I made this work, if I somehow presented myself in a way that I thought was expected of me, I had a chance at escaping this drudgery. Escape to what? I do not know.
Sometimes, in my saner moments, I know I need help. I know I should be seeing someone who I can pour all this out to and not have them get mad at me or give me condescending looks or have them tell me how I should be grateful for the abundance I live in.
I'm tired of feeling guilty for the things I feel. I'm tired of feeling guilty for wanting something different. I'm tired of feeling guilty for not feeling things I'm expected to by people who have absolutely no idea who I am.
The other day I came across this wonderful excerpt from a book. It said and I'm paraphrasing,' A person who drowns in 7 feet of water is just as dead as the one who drowns in 20 feet of water.'
Belittling someone's grief by giving them examples of how there are others suffering way more is a sure fire way of deepening their misery. Why would you tell someone who is already suffering that their suffering isn't even justified because other, completely unknown people are suffering too? Only you live in your head. You can sympathize, sure, but you can only feel your own feelings, only suffer your own suffering.
I wonder if everyone feels things as deeply as I do. If they do, how do they get through the day? I know people who have dreams like owning a specific, very expensive car or creating a very posh clinic. I think those things too sometimes. The next second I'm hit with how meaningless all that is to me. Then I think about what I want out of life. The constant answer through many years has been: peace. All I want is for my mind to be at peace. All I want is to be in a place where I get up every morning and don't yearn for some other reality. And every time I picture myself in this state of being at peace, I am alone. And that relieves me a little bit. I don't picture myself with somebody. It is a very specific picture actually. I am outdoors. There's a stream and on its banks, a huge tree. It is sunny, but pleasantly so. I'm dressed like a man, weirdly. I am walking on the grass. I'm smiling but not thinking. Then I go sit by the stream with my legs outstretched. I close my eyes and listen. The only sound is that of the water running by. I am at peace.
I've often found myself bending and contorting myself to suit what I perceived as people's expectations of me. The most recent one was what I'm still reeling under. I behaved in a way I normally wouldn't. I said things and did things I normally wouldn't. Why? Because I thought if I made this work, if I somehow presented myself in a way that I thought was expected of me, I had a chance at escaping this drudgery. Escape to what? I do not know.
Sometimes, in my saner moments, I know I need help. I know I should be seeing someone who I can pour all this out to and not have them get mad at me or give me condescending looks or have them tell me how I should be grateful for the abundance I live in.
I'm tired of feeling guilty for the things I feel. I'm tired of feeling guilty for wanting something different. I'm tired of feeling guilty for not feeling things I'm expected to by people who have absolutely no idea who I am.
The other day I came across this wonderful excerpt from a book. It said and I'm paraphrasing,' A person who drowns in 7 feet of water is just as dead as the one who drowns in 20 feet of water.'
Belittling someone's grief by giving them examples of how there are others suffering way more is a sure fire way of deepening their misery. Why would you tell someone who is already suffering that their suffering isn't even justified because other, completely unknown people are suffering too? Only you live in your head. You can sympathize, sure, but you can only feel your own feelings, only suffer your own suffering.
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