(no subject)
Thu, Sep. 1st, 2005 11:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oyceterSo. I've finally gotten my head out of the sand and started really reading up on Hurricane Katrina. I am so, so, so very depressed now. It's not that such a thing has happened, even though just that is horrible. It's what's happening now in the city, the people who couldn't get out being stranded there, stories of rape and gunfire and possible (confirmed?) violence. It feels too much like Lord of the Flies, or even bits of War of the Worlds, all the apocalyptic survival stories out there that bring out the absolute worst in human nature.
I can't really think about that right now, because it just makes me despair and because I can't live believing that that's all there is to people, that we will always revert to our worst selves in these situations. So. I dunno. I guess I will focus on the things that I can do and the things that are helping. Anyhow, I am glad I posted another happy list earlier, because it makes me feel a bit better.
Back in childhood and middle school and high school, I used to say I was a cynic or a pessimist or a realist. Then maybe an idealist in college. But I think before junior year of high school, I never quite connected with people. I talked with them and had a few very close friends, but in general, I felt that people didn't care about me or know me. I guess I figured that people cared, but on a very impersonal level, that there was an impenetrable wall that no one could really see through, and that once I let that wall down, I'd only end up getting hurt.
Heh, yay adolescent angst. I don't know if it was the standard adolescent angst or if it was a precursor to depression -- I've always done the morbid ideation thing, constantly imagining what would happen if my parents or other people I cared about died, or the horrible nothingness of death. It only really stopped when I entered high school and things somehow got better. I made some more friends. I talked to a few more people. I still felt extremely awkward and unwieldy, though.
But anyway, I remember saying things like I wasn't really thankful to anyone, because I felt that no one had really given me anything (woe! I was so misunderstood! *snerk*). My family also wasn't particularly emotionally demonstrative. They love me, and I know that, but at the time, sometimes it was very easy to forget. And all these combined with getting good grades at school made me feel a lot like there was so much pressure on me to be good, to be perfect, to be the model student and to get into a top college and everything.
I really hated that pressure. I realize writing this right after things on Hurricane Katrina sounds horribly self-centered too. But I am already rambling, so I may as well continue. In junior year of high school, things started getting really hard for me, math in particular. I still remember teachers coming up and being concerned about my not horrible but not up-to-standard grades and the constant fear I had: what if people found out I wasn't really that smart the whole time? What if people found out I was a horrible person underneath who was cold and mean? Would there be anything left of me besides a cracked facade?
Anyway, I don't quite remember why, but I ended up crying outside the school gym one day, just ran out of badminton because I couldn't take it anymore. The thing I remember the most is that no one from class came out to look for me, no one even bothered to wander out to ask if I was ok or offer tissue or anything. I'm sure, looking back now, that people were afraid to intrude (again, the emotionally non-demonstrative-ness was pretty prevalent around me), but sitting there alone on the steps, watching all the other students pass by and having absolutely no one stop was the loneliest, coldest feeling. My mom actually came by because she was picking up my sister or something, and all I remember is that she ended up yelling at me.
But then, one guy from my class found me and did the unthinkable. He just sat down next to me and gave me a hug and asked me what was wrong, and I ended up bawling on his shoulder for what felt like hours. I don't know if that was a grand turning point, but later on, in senior year and in college, I started feeling like people did care, feeling the weight and the importance that small gestures could bring.
So here I am now, and thanks to Paxil and therapy and having a support network again, and I can't imagine saying something like I don't owe anything to anyone, that even altruistic acts and essentially selfish because they make you feel good about yourself. I like to pretend I am a cynic sometimes (I suspect I don't pull it off too well), but really, right now, I am a very bouncy optimist.
I suppose, if I could sum up something as big as a life philosophy, mine would be something like Angel's epiphany, that nothing matters, which is why everything matters. That life is full of imperfections, but that it's also full of trees and flourescent green stuffed frogs and LJ and people of all sorts, and that it's all these imperfections that make things perfect and beautiful. That really, when it comes down to it, all this is a miracle, down to our mere existence, and that there is so much to enjoy and laugh about. I think that Murphy's Law is one of the reigning laws of the universe (ergo the cynic), but that since it is, I'd much rather save my assorted mishaps to tell stories about and laugh about later, rather than get mad. Besides, it really is sort of funny most of the time.
I guess I'm mostly typing all this up because I can't read all those news articles and let myself get too angry with the government or the economic situation, or the situation as a whole. I am angry. But I know me, and I won't be able to do anything if I'm fuming and angry and ranting (which is not to say that no one should be, because I think it is often an effective tool. Just, you know, usually not for me personally). It's not that I find any humor in this (ok, some really black humor that I feel bad about), but that believing that life is horrible and all we do is die will probably kill me or something.
That was the worst part about ibanking -- I lost that philosophy, I was in an environment where I felt like the only reason I could have my philosophy was because I wasn't living in the "real world." I felt like everything that I believed in, from laughter and wry humor to the miracle of the everyday and the goodness of things, was stupid and wrong and untrue, that really the world was harsh and difficult, that there were no chances or choices for me. It felt like dying every day, that every day, one more piece of what I believed in was being stripped away from me, and I couldn't see what there was left to live for in that kind of world.
I still don't, really, but that's because I don't think that the world is like that anymore. I think it can be like that, but I think that the things I believe in still do exist and can be found as well.
I used to think that hope and love were the cruelest of emotions, because of how they could cut a person apart. I think now that they can, but that they are also stronger than almost anything.
Wow, I am so sappy these days!
So mostly I just keep hoping for New Orleans and the Gulf Coast. And while I am an optimist, I don't believe in being a passive optimist and merely approving the status quo -- seeing the glass as half full isn't enough, because the real point is to make it all full for everyone. And sometimes your hands will be tied, but other times, there are things you can do. And that you must also first take care of yourself, not to be selfish and to exclude others, but because if you don't, you can't help others. Witness me depressed versus me now. Me depressed couldn't even help myself, much less think of anything outside of how much things hurt.
When I was still adjusting my meds dosage, there was one horrible week where I was as depressed as I had ever been, the boy had broken up with me, and I was really not doing well. Nothing big happened, but I got an email from someone on LJ just asking if I was ok, that she didn't want to intrude, but she was worried and that she cared. And I don't know if she realized or anything, but I was sitting there and feeling completely abandoned, and having that one small voice coming out from the voids of the internet, with no pressure attached, just to say she was thinking of me and that I mattered and that she cared, that was so much.
I guess a lot of what I believe is that even the smallest things do matter. I can't give tons of money to the Red Cross or fly down there to volunteer right now, or stop the rioting or anything. All I have is my little emergency fund (and the matching donation of my company, go company!). And I get that some people are too tired or too weary to care, and like I said, you've still got to make sure you're capable of doing such things first. But I do think that caring is important, that sometimes a hug or a smile or a simple "Are you ok?" can save someone's life.
I'm not quite sure what the point of all that was (I probably lost it somewhere around eight paragraphs back!), but this is a public post just because I figure it can't hurt and because the openness on LJ about a whole lot of things really helped me.
Er, right, I am out of sappy mood now! You may all emerge!
And because I figure people could use some cheering up, a happy list addendum!
My new face towel that has a yellow terrycloth rubber duckie on it and blue trim makes me very happy as well.
I can't really think about that right now, because it just makes me despair and because I can't live believing that that's all there is to people, that we will always revert to our worst selves in these situations. So. I dunno. I guess I will focus on the things that I can do and the things that are helping. Anyhow, I am glad I posted another happy list earlier, because it makes me feel a bit better.
Back in childhood and middle school and high school, I used to say I was a cynic or a pessimist or a realist. Then maybe an idealist in college. But I think before junior year of high school, I never quite connected with people. I talked with them and had a few very close friends, but in general, I felt that people didn't care about me or know me. I guess I figured that people cared, but on a very impersonal level, that there was an impenetrable wall that no one could really see through, and that once I let that wall down, I'd only end up getting hurt.
Heh, yay adolescent angst. I don't know if it was the standard adolescent angst or if it was a precursor to depression -- I've always done the morbid ideation thing, constantly imagining what would happen if my parents or other people I cared about died, or the horrible nothingness of death. It only really stopped when I entered high school and things somehow got better. I made some more friends. I talked to a few more people. I still felt extremely awkward and unwieldy, though.
But anyway, I remember saying things like I wasn't really thankful to anyone, because I felt that no one had really given me anything (woe! I was so misunderstood! *snerk*). My family also wasn't particularly emotionally demonstrative. They love me, and I know that, but at the time, sometimes it was very easy to forget. And all these combined with getting good grades at school made me feel a lot like there was so much pressure on me to be good, to be perfect, to be the model student and to get into a top college and everything.
I really hated that pressure. I realize writing this right after things on Hurricane Katrina sounds horribly self-centered too. But I am already rambling, so I may as well continue. In junior year of high school, things started getting really hard for me, math in particular. I still remember teachers coming up and being concerned about my not horrible but not up-to-standard grades and the constant fear I had: what if people found out I wasn't really that smart the whole time? What if people found out I was a horrible person underneath who was cold and mean? Would there be anything left of me besides a cracked facade?
Anyway, I don't quite remember why, but I ended up crying outside the school gym one day, just ran out of badminton because I couldn't take it anymore. The thing I remember the most is that no one from class came out to look for me, no one even bothered to wander out to ask if I was ok or offer tissue or anything. I'm sure, looking back now, that people were afraid to intrude (again, the emotionally non-demonstrative-ness was pretty prevalent around me), but sitting there alone on the steps, watching all the other students pass by and having absolutely no one stop was the loneliest, coldest feeling. My mom actually came by because she was picking up my sister or something, and all I remember is that she ended up yelling at me.
But then, one guy from my class found me and did the unthinkable. He just sat down next to me and gave me a hug and asked me what was wrong, and I ended up bawling on his shoulder for what felt like hours. I don't know if that was a grand turning point, but later on, in senior year and in college, I started feeling like people did care, feeling the weight and the importance that small gestures could bring.
So here I am now, and thanks to Paxil and therapy and having a support network again, and I can't imagine saying something like I don't owe anything to anyone, that even altruistic acts and essentially selfish because they make you feel good about yourself. I like to pretend I am a cynic sometimes (I suspect I don't pull it off too well), but really, right now, I am a very bouncy optimist.
I suppose, if I could sum up something as big as a life philosophy, mine would be something like Angel's epiphany, that nothing matters, which is why everything matters. That life is full of imperfections, but that it's also full of trees and flourescent green stuffed frogs and LJ and people of all sorts, and that it's all these imperfections that make things perfect and beautiful. That really, when it comes down to it, all this is a miracle, down to our mere existence, and that there is so much to enjoy and laugh about. I think that Murphy's Law is one of the reigning laws of the universe (ergo the cynic), but that since it is, I'd much rather save my assorted mishaps to tell stories about and laugh about later, rather than get mad. Besides, it really is sort of funny most of the time.
I guess I'm mostly typing all this up because I can't read all those news articles and let myself get too angry with the government or the economic situation, or the situation as a whole. I am angry. But I know me, and I won't be able to do anything if I'm fuming and angry and ranting (which is not to say that no one should be, because I think it is often an effective tool. Just, you know, usually not for me personally). It's not that I find any humor in this (ok, some really black humor that I feel bad about), but that believing that life is horrible and all we do is die will probably kill me or something.
That was the worst part about ibanking -- I lost that philosophy, I was in an environment where I felt like the only reason I could have my philosophy was because I wasn't living in the "real world." I felt like everything that I believed in, from laughter and wry humor to the miracle of the everyday and the goodness of things, was stupid and wrong and untrue, that really the world was harsh and difficult, that there were no chances or choices for me. It felt like dying every day, that every day, one more piece of what I believed in was being stripped away from me, and I couldn't see what there was left to live for in that kind of world.
I still don't, really, but that's because I don't think that the world is like that anymore. I think it can be like that, but I think that the things I believe in still do exist and can be found as well.
I used to think that hope and love were the cruelest of emotions, because of how they could cut a person apart. I think now that they can, but that they are also stronger than almost anything.
Wow, I am so sappy these days!
So mostly I just keep hoping for New Orleans and the Gulf Coast. And while I am an optimist, I don't believe in being a passive optimist and merely approving the status quo -- seeing the glass as half full isn't enough, because the real point is to make it all full for everyone. And sometimes your hands will be tied, but other times, there are things you can do. And that you must also first take care of yourself, not to be selfish and to exclude others, but because if you don't, you can't help others. Witness me depressed versus me now. Me depressed couldn't even help myself, much less think of anything outside of how much things hurt.
When I was still adjusting my meds dosage, there was one horrible week where I was as depressed as I had ever been, the boy had broken up with me, and I was really not doing well. Nothing big happened, but I got an email from someone on LJ just asking if I was ok, that she didn't want to intrude, but she was worried and that she cared. And I don't know if she realized or anything, but I was sitting there and feeling completely abandoned, and having that one small voice coming out from the voids of the internet, with no pressure attached, just to say she was thinking of me and that I mattered and that she cared, that was so much.
I guess a lot of what I believe is that even the smallest things do matter. I can't give tons of money to the Red Cross or fly down there to volunteer right now, or stop the rioting or anything. All I have is my little emergency fund (and the matching donation of my company, go company!). And I get that some people are too tired or too weary to care, and like I said, you've still got to make sure you're capable of doing such things first. But I do think that caring is important, that sometimes a hug or a smile or a simple "Are you ok?" can save someone's life.
I'm not quite sure what the point of all that was (I probably lost it somewhere around eight paragraphs back!), but this is a public post just because I figure it can't hurt and because the openness on LJ about a whole lot of things really helped me.
Er, right, I am out of sappy mood now! You may all emerge!
And because I figure people could use some cheering up, a happy list addendum!
My new face towel that has a yellow terrycloth rubber duckie on it and blue trim makes me very happy as well.
(no subject)
Thu, Sep. 1st, 2005 11:42 pm (UTC)This is very wise. In all of the earthquake training and disaster management training I have taken over the years, the very first thing we are taught is that the first rule of emergency management is, "Me, first!" Initially I was so surprised by that, but it just has to be that way. You can't be of any use to anyone else if you don't take care of yourself first.
Oyce, you help so much just by being you.
;o) xoxoxo
(no subject)
Fri, Sep. 2nd, 2005 04:37 am (UTC)I remember saying things like I wasn't really thankful to anyone, because I felt that no one had really given me anything
Some people never realize this. But after you do, the world really does open up. I have found that it helps me manage the unmanageable without giving up any of myself. That surprised me.
(no subject)
Fri, Sep. 2nd, 2005 06:34 am (UTC)And you are always wonderful, Oyce.
(no subject)
Fri, Sep. 2nd, 2005 01:42 pm (UTC)even altruistic acts and essentially selfish because they make you feel good about yourself
Did your depression develop a life of its own and start posting at ATPO under multiple names? ;-)
(no subject)
Sun, Sep. 4th, 2005 05:41 pm (UTC)