Storytime: That Time I Got Robbed and Other Musings on Gratitude and Empathy

~StoryTime~

There was this one time when my parents and I were on vacation in Canada and my mom and I had gotten into a fight the previous night; I was about maybe twelve years old.   The next morning, we ate at the hotel complimentary breakfast with the expected aftermath of awkwardness in the air- I kept my eyes lowered to shield my puffy red eyes under my hat.  There weren’t many other people around, but I remember seeing two tanned men sitting near us at the next table.  I was in a foul mood, angry with the world and still upset at something my mom had said earlier; my feeling ashamed reflected clearly in my flushed face.

I was so lost in my own world of sulky thoughts that I only barely took notice that my mom had left the table to get more food.  Soon after, my dad also got up to head to an aisle leading to the men’s room, leaving me alone.  The next minute, I was whipped out of my thoughts by a man who approached me, pointing furiously towards the direction my dad had left in and jabbering in a foreign language.  His panic was infectious.  The first thing that came to my mind was that something had happened to my dad: he had a heart attack, he had passed out, there was a fire.  I hesitated and stood up as the man bolted off – confused, I wondered if I should follow him or call the police.

Next thing was my mom’s alarmed voice; she had come back and immediately exclaimed, “Where’s my bag?!”

I glanced around to the chairs around me, and only saw mine.  That was the moment  I realized that I had been hoodwinked.  The men who were sitting near us were gone.  The police arrived and questioned us, and after watching the security footage, confirmed that the two men had dashed out the backdoor.  The police told us that it was one of a few cases that had happened recently in the neighborhood hotels in the same exact fashion.  The next hour was filled with my mom calling various places to cancel her credit card accounts, phone accounts, and anything else the police advised her to do.  My mom’s camera, phone, and unfortunately, more than half a thousand dollars cash had been in her favorite bag.  She said she had forgotten to remove all the cash since her recent trip to Taiwan where she wanted to exchange some of it for Taiwanese money.

The shock that had hit all of us that early afternoon had us immediately forget, or rather, let go of any ill feelings harbored towards each other.  I remember feeling a mixture of emotions.  I felt guilty that I had not watched our things more carefully, that I had so naively been fooled by that guy, who must’ve distracted me to one side so that his accomplice could grab my mom’s bag to the other side of me.  I felt a bit regretful that so much money had been lost, especially since my younger parents worked hard to save up money.

I also felt tremendous relief that nothing in fact, had happened to my dad; he was okay.  My mom was okay, I was okay, we were all okay.  Nobody had held me at gunpoint or knifepoint threatening to kill us if we hadn’t handed over our possessions.

I also felt the weight of grudges just a couple hours ago melt into incredible gratitude, realizing by comparison the full pettiness of my sulky world.  One argument was a bad grain of sand in the spectrum of our lives.  Even though I don’t count myself as particularly religious, I remembered thinking that this incident must have been God’s reminder to me to wake up and understand that much worse things could happen at any given time.

We really tend to see what we don’t have, and what others do have.  Even on days where I’m in tremendous pain physically or emotionally, or my car broke down,  I would just think, if only I didn’t have to deal with this shit.  How much better the day would be if I just wasn’t in pain, if the car just worked and I could get to my friend or my groceries.  That’s how we see that the ordinary, “boring” events are actually extraordinary.

Today, some tragedy could’ve happened that left my family homeless.  Today, I could be so destitute that I don’t have enough money to buy dinner.  Today, I could’ve lost a loved one.  Today, I could’ve found out someone I loved didn’t love me back anymore.  Today, I could be feeling so depressed that I want to kill myself.  Today, I could be lying in the hospital again, just wishing that I could sleep in my own bed and get a hot shower.

Today, none of those things happened, and I did get to feed myself, sleep in my own bed, and take a hot shower.

I was in the car the other day and musing over the whole “glass half full, glass half empty” cliche.  Maybe we’re missing the point when we look at it that way.  Maybe the truth to finding Zen and acceptance of everything around us, including the shitty parts, is to see the glass itself.  That the glass exists at all.  That we have a glass.  That we have water at all.  It could all so easily be nothing, just empty space floating into more nothingness.


-Just a passing thought about how to find happiness and peace since that is something I’ve struggled with my whole life.

Reminder though, that even though we should strive to be more appreciative and notice all that we do have, it’s still okay to let yourself feel the sad parts too.  We’re wrapped up in a society that expects us to feel fine all the time or try to get us there (“Feel better!” “You’ll be okay” “I’m sorry” other crap etc.).  Is that true healing?  No.  You have to walk through the tunnel to get to the other side, there is no shortcut.  You can’t magically Apparate or sprout wings over the tunnel.  What we can do for each other?  For true empathy, be there for one another.  Rather than a “Feel better”, I want to live in a society where we hold each other’s hand.  We offer an embrace, we tell them yes, what they’re going through sucks, but I’m here for you.  I will walk with you through the tunnel.  You’re not alone.

There’s a difference between finding pleasure in sulking in misery, and brushing off any pain like it’s nothing.  Validation, entitlement, to your feelings… I guess it’s a bit of a fine line sometimes depending on perspective.  There’s a balance.

I’ll admit that this is one of my faults too.  I’m a hypocrite, because I have told people to “feel better” before.  Because when I feel their burden, I just can’t.  I can’t even handle my own burdens sometimes.  “Put the oxygen mask over yourself before helping others put their masks on” <— wise words of a flight attendant.  But I’m working on it, and I wish more people would just give more of a shit to be honest.


Today’s Obsessions (Music):

-Heaven by Julia Michaels

-Sacrifice  by Black Atlas & Jessie Reyez

-Wait by Maroon 5

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Wizarding World of Harry Potter -Feb. 2-3, 2018 Log

So… just to put down a few quick notes about my trip thus far:

I’ve been working on being less self-conscious, and realizing that in doing so is accepting all of me, even the “bad” parts that I instinctively try to hide.  It may not seem like a big deal, but it is to me.

  1.  The first step, was when I pretty much wore my filter mask the entire day… traveling at the airport, airplane, etc. I wore the mask.  It made me feel different even though I knew the mask was cuter than the surgical ones I used to wear.

Cons:

-felt like some ppl stared and tried to be chill about it

-got tiny bit humid after forever and kind of a hassle on my ears

-caught myself in the mirror and did not feel pretty

Pros:

-got kinda used to it after the 2nd hour

-was more breathable than surgical masks

-whenever a person coughed or sneezed close to me, I was no longer super paranoid that I would get sick soon after

2)  Wheelchair all day today:

Cons:

=stuck out very much and was pretty self-conscious, especially at moments when I got up and a couple ppl stared esp since I had no broken legs to show for using a wheelchair

-got no perks at the theme park since you can now pay extra for express lane

-had no freedom for movement since I was pretty much pushed by family all the time (dependent)

-became very aware of anything like a rope or steps that would be super flexible and easy for a walking human (inconvenient)

-did not like feeling so much shorter than everyone else

Pros:

-was kind of nice to be “pampered” almost by my family, who willingly pushed me around taking turns

-was much more attentive personally to other wheelchair-users

-no longer had headaches or felt like passing out, esp on the rides that were more extreme

-no longer felt past the point of dead after a few min of walking; however, felt that point approaching at the very end of the day (ah! lasted till the end :D)

-speed was much faster to reach all the attraction spots since we were now walking at the avg human pace, not mine

3)  Oxygen:

Used oxygen during the plane ride when I went to the bathroom, and my oxygen level dropped to an 85, but then went up to a 91 after a few seconds.??  After oxygen use it went up to a 97.  Walking from car to the hotel room my heart bpm was 158, and oxygen dropped to a 90, but standing still goes up to a 93 after a few seconds as well.

Other Cons:

-I still had a few moments where I felt like I might break down because my mind started to wonder to the fact that I was so dependent that I would not be able to experience a day like today without the help of being pushed around by someone else, and that my body would only get worse

-Didn’t particularly want to take any photos while sitting in wheelchair, but also didn’t mind as much as I used to

-my brother seemed kind of bored at times, and it made me feel a bit more like my family wasn’t enjoying with me but simply accompanying me to make me happy, which made me feel a little burdensome :/ but they did seem overall to enjoy themselves on the rides.

Other Pros:

-During the plane ride here, I saw a brief moment where my dad sort of held my mom’s hand for a few minutes-  Why it’s significant:  I don’t think I’ve ever seen my parents affectionate much like that, esp for no particular reason (like leaving the country for a month) I thought it was nice.

-I had a heart to heart with my mom on life randomly last night, just talking about some of our problems and experiences we have had with people in general

-my brother more than just the typical gestures of niceness like treating us to dinner today, but actually asked me if I was okay at one point and also asked me if I needed oxygen in the car, and that meant more to me than treating us to dinner tbh

-The Harry Potter castle ride was FREAKING AMAZING.  So was drinking butterbeer and seeing Hogsmeade.  An Ollivander’s wand is $70- I would buy one if it actually had magical powers… but instead, I settled for a Gringotts key keychain, and a Pumpkin juice drink for souvenirs.  Also had two delicious dinners in a row, one at Sonny’s BBQ, and today at Bubba Gump’s Shrimp restaurant. YUM.

-Other highlights:  The Incredible Hulk, the first roller coaster I’d ridden in like 10 years… really fast and smooth.   the Skull Island King Kong one was not bad as well.  Seeing cute little kids geeking out in full Harry Potter capes and waving their wands made my day.

I’M DETERMINED TO HAVE FUN.

 

Thoughts on Morality (Shower Post #4)

I think it’s a fair thing to say that the more we get older, the more jaded we get- we have less patience, we have less faith in others, we become more cynical or realistic, depending on your perspective.  I think for me, I have definitely become more cynical/realistic with age.  Whenever I go through something difficult, I think, why does no one know or feel my suffering?  Why does it feel like I am even more isolated and alone?  Instead of having faith in others, we fear reaching out because we don’t trust that anyone actually cares, or sincerely cares.  I think this is the logical path that people follow that can lead them to such a dark place, to the point of even suicide.  At this point, it seems like your life doesn’t count anyway, and it won’t matter.

For me, I get frustrated because in chronic illness, the suffering doesn’t end.  It’s not like a cold or a break up where your circumstances may improve eventually; they don’t.  You do.  Your mind sinks or swims.  And then I hide my fears because I’ve had it proven countless times to me that in the end, it seems I am the only one who can fully do anything about what I am going through.  Besides my dad and sometimes my mom and a few close friends, I am pretty much alone.  Almost no one else is there beside you every second living your life, observing it, experiencing, as much as you, having that strength of endurance.  People will enter and leave your life, maybe be a blessing even for the short run, but they can always fade at any given time.

We are all so scared of showing vulnerability, of laying out our cards and letting everyone else judge us, embrace us, or reject us.  Especially when we go on social media like Facebook and Instagram, and we are flooded by images of hot, fit bodies, attractive portraits of people laughing, having the time of their lives with their significant other on their vacation, surrounded by friends, or eating delicious food.  It is true that the positives and highlights are part of our lives, but they are only a small snapshot of the entire rhetoric.  Our whole society encourages us to hide our insecurities and to only portray our best selves, but it isn’t always the whole picture, the whole truth.

I do the same.  I only put up pics of my happiest moments of when I look good on Instagram.  It does make me feel better to take pride and look at these images and tell myself “Wow, my life is not bad!”  It does make me feel more or less validated when I get many likes.  But I also wish to be brave enough to allow myself to receive likes on my ugliest, saddest, most depressing snapshot of my life- even more so, I want to be brave enough to be okay with no likes if that’s what happens.  I may be afraid of judgment, or of dragging down other people’s happiness- but so what?  We gotta inject some sincerity and realism in what’s really going on in our lives, to show others our scars so that they can be more accepting and forgiving of theirs.

People don’t see me through the moments where doctors discuss my life span and ask deep cutting questions like “Have you ever had suicidal thoughts” and me, reluctantly admitting “yes.”  People don’t see me when I wake up in the morning and count the amount of meds I daily pop into my mouth or inhale.  People don’t see me when I am at home, physically and mentally too tired to complete simple tasks like laundry.  I fight everyday to live a fraction of energy and memories that others take for granted.

Maybe part of this is my fault, for not being more open, and for withholding part of the truth, I actually get more judged than not, because people see a “normal” young woman abusing a handicap sign, people see my beaming grins on my Insta, and people see me when I am trying my absolute best to participate happily in life.

I guess for me, faced with the morality of my being, and always reminded of how small of a drop of water I am in the ocean, I keep questioning, how do I make my life count?  It is not going to last forever, but that is out of my hands.

What I wish, is for people to think more on this question, on how they impact others, and to be part of a greater plan for us all to have faith that if we fall, the ones around us care enough to catch us, as cheesy as that metaphor is.  To come to terms with our true selves and the imperfection we are- taking pride in our strengths, accepting our flaws and vowing to work on improving them.  So that we give encouragement and faith to others, and in turn can let ourselves fall in faith.  Knowing that we are trying our best, even if that’s not what it looks like, even when others tell us we are crying wolf and victimizing ourselves, them telling us we’re fine, but us knowing for ourselves that we are not okay, and knowing that continuing to do our best is okay, it is enough.

July 19 Reprieve: Moment, Pause, Break

I been tryna keep busy, keep running, keep moving, but the second my mind slows down and tries to take a breath of calm, it jumps all over the place, and ends up running, but instead of with me, it runs away from me, spinning out of control, whirling, and I can’t chase it down or catch up to it.

Fear of other people, fear of myself, fear of being drained, fear of not being drained enough, fear of the future, fear of now, fear of not getting over from the past.

A moment, a pause, a break.  Don’t let it all break you.  Don’t let them hear your thoughts, see you spiraling like crazy, hitting the ceiling, bouncing from last year’s sorrows to revisiting the lingering moment of choked up hurt sitting in your room.

Sometimes I think it’s better to stay outside of the fishbowl, to peer in, interact, and pull back out to observe from a distance, but never be caught in the drama.  Then you stay in the honeymoon zone and don’t enter the disappointment zone.  Of how people let you down and reveal their true colors.  Oftentimes its scent turns more sour than what drew you in from a distance.  Don’t let them use you and throw you away like just another tissue paper.  Make your existence matter to them (although this sometimes feel like you’re fighting against the current).

How can what once felt like it was becoming home, feel suddenly once again as much of a stranger as when you first entered, except worse because you know that’s not how it’s supposed to feel?

Was it because I forgot my medication.  Is it because it’s that time of the month? (It’s not).  So… what is it?  Life.  lol.  Emotions.

Retreat: Testimony

Wow.

So I forced myself to drive out to the university where spring retreat was being held- I had seen many pictures of this place in all the pictures I stalked when I first befriended my fellowship friends last summer so I was curious to check it out.  The night before, my anxiety kept me up all night with me knowing I should show up at a respectful time to participate, especially since I felt guilty that I had not paid anything and had not planned to come, much less stay.  Nobody knows how hard it is to push the small part of yourself through all the anxiety and fear, simply to challenge yourself to be present in the experiences of life, no matter what they are.  Something so natural to someone else, like looking forward to how fun retreat is, or a vacation, is stressful to me no matter what.

Anyway, as usual, there were things I was not too keen on, one of them being the Sunday message given by the pastor (more on that in another post), but one of the most crazy experiences this Sunday was testimony.  To be honest, I was a little apprehensive as the last testimony I witnessed was during their Thanksgiving dinner led by the pastor… it felt a bit forced and inauthentic, with every single tumor that disappeared, every mini good thing that happened, resounding in ‘PRAISE THE LORD.’

I thought it was strange that testimony was scheduled for more than an hour as nobody spoke for the first five to ten minutes.  However, slowly but surely, one by one people went up to speak.  These felt spoken from the heart.  One kid was in high school, and he talked about how he felt he was in a dark place, and was depressed that he wasn’t getting good grades.  He said he knew that it might get better, yet he might regret if he didn’t speak up about it.  Another who really got to me was Donna, Bobby’s mom who lost both her father and her husband AND got cancer all around the same time… nuts.  She apologized for being difficult to be around and also spoke of her pain and gratitude for the kids especially.  It was really hard to listen to her, but I felt her suffering, and a couple people were crying with her.  It was so real, and I was almost tempted to go up and talk about my experiences too, except I still don’t know if I’m completely convinced of the beliefs in the bible and I still question a lot of things… but I do wish I have the courage one day to speak up, and at least talk about my personal experiences or give a word to encourage others, especially the younger kids.

Thoughts n Questions to Ponder

  1.  What are the main differences between pity, sympathy, and empathy?  Are there two different levels of empathy?  A.  Having gone through the same, or very similar experience where you understand deeply B.  Can understand as explained to you, as you willingly strive to seek out understanding of another’s experiences
  2. What determines what is art and what is not?  Is it enough that it makes one feel an emotion, or an opinion?    What about if something is crudely done in controversy? Perhaps this is how famous celebrities (Kim K, Andy Warhol, Trump, the Pepsi commercial) garner publicity knowingly and manipulatively
  3. Everything in life mainly revolves around the goal of Efficiency, which will lead to Effectiveness.  Example: Why Marie Kondo’s book on tidying and organizing became a bestseller as we have so much waste and crap in our houses.  It is how I learned to memorize my music with intent and away from the piano, more intensely in less time, but more mentally draining regardless.  Creative design should also focus on minimize waste, energy, time.  Should the same concept be applied for empathy?
    1. Things that are wasteful but shouldn’t be… 40% groceries wasted away in the average American household- why??
    2. Taco Bell sauce packets
    3. Throwing away or not having anywhere to place reusable teabags…

What are my strengths and current goals? Curiosity, focus, and intense determination

  1.  Korean / Spanish language, teaching Mandarin to my friend daily and weekly
  2.  Coding for Python
  3. Looking into animation (create short) practicing piano again and writing music (create a great piece)
  4. Empathy, Pondering, Philosophy
  5. Creating greater efficiency in waste, energy, time
    1. Re-organize lifestyle and bedroom
    2. Establish regime – wake up before 12pm, sleep at 2am, take morning/bedtime calcium supplements.  Stretches, drink 37oz liquids, work out, floss, mouthwash, skincare, haircare.
    3. “Is what I’m doing beneficial to me in the long run? Am I learning something right now productive?” –>  TEDtalks, cooking recipes (next up, ba wan), Lynda tutorials
    4. Be better at planning events
    5. Minimize sound pollution, food waste
    6. Develop photography portfolio so I can develop photoshop photos
  6. Passions:  women’s rights, Asian American rights, Disability rights –> how to save energy
    1. Suitcase with wheels/ moving chair
    2. Accessibility (ex:  more elevators in the city, better “wheelchairs”)
    3. How do we increase efficiency in obtaining empathy in each other in a simple, direct manner that makes sense?  –>  perspective of woman translating well for men.  Struggles of Asian Americans and immigrants, their story to become understanding or more relatable.
      1. Watch movies:  50/50 on reality of illnesses, The Godfather on moral dilemmas, Master of None on feminism, immigrants, ageism, hook up culture, racism, etc.
  7. Me:   Sound of heels clicking cleanly across the floor with a slight echo, rustling of a turning page, old smell of sheets of paper, fresh cut grass, moisturizing lip balms, Lupicia cookie tea and chocolate strawberry tea, slicing cucumbers, sizzling oil, matcha bubble tea, onigiri, ramen, glistening sashimi, glutinous gelatinous ba wan, emotional energy channeling through fingertips into keys, deep breaths, whirling thoughts, racing heartbeat, derp.

Advice for Greater Empathy- the Dangers of Inspiration Porn

I don’t know how many times I’ve been called an inspiration by friends or just people I’m having a personal discussion with.  I think it would greatly benefit everyone in general to learn about how to help others in having greater empathy-  counter to general belief, there is also usually a “better” way to show your empathy with someone you care about… of course, there are the typical “I’m so sorry for your loss” or those standard sayings, and while they’re not “wrong”, I often find a lot of people are completely oblivious or unsure of what the right things are to say to someone in need.  Of course, to a certain degree, different kinds of words or actions to show solidarity or other types of things work for different kinds of people and characters, but if one were more willing to open their eyes and minds more, they would find that there are usual sayings or things people do that are actual less helpful than they think… and actually kind of useless and frustrating for the person hearing it.  If one is interested, there are always more specific, better ways to gain understanding and empathy, and to show it.

One of the things that I find vital for people to learn is the right wording and the right timing for it.  I am not an inspiration simply by default for dealing with a chronic condition- some people might find this comforting, but be careful in who it is and making sure what the situation is – illnesses and health conditions vary as much as the individual human experience in anything else.  If they grew up totally fine managing their health, why go out of your way to tell someone in a wheelchair they’re an inspiration and singling them out like that, and without first understanding what their struggles are, if they are even what you assume they are?

If perhaps they recounted how difficult it was to rehabilitate themselves after a hospital run or something, it might then be acceptable to say you’re inspiring for pushing yourself to get better, or for opening up, or for using their experiences and platform to further a cause and raise awareness.

It pisses me off when I see some video on facebook with a girl in a wheelchair singing her ass off, and somehow that being by default, “inspirational.”  Do her legs have anything to do with her pipes?  If not, then why is it inspirational?  That’s the wrong use of the word, and what I would label under “Inspiration porn”-  you posted that and made an immediate assumption because you saw she was in a wheelchair, and it made you feel more driven or blessed in your life somehow.  You can be grateful for your own health and appreciate her vocal ability without denoting it to her physical ability to walk, or to think wow that person’s life must suck, I feel better about mine.  That’s WRONG.

 

“Technically a Christian” part 2

Continuing onto the last post I wrote regarding my relationship with Christianity, which you can read here, I’m still pretty confused and seeking answers.

I’m really liking fellowship and still continuing to grow closer with everyone, and getting to genuinely know and care about people.  However, aside from that and despite having many deep philosophical talks with individuals including the evangelist who is a cool guy, I’m still not sure I found any clear answers.  I’ve gotten into a few sticky topics, most of which revolves around homosexuality.  I’ve come to  discover many of them don’t exactly support gayness, and that they don’t see it as anti anything, but rather that in very clear, literal terms, the bible has passages stating that it is an abomination to lay with another man.  According to them, the individual is not a sin, but the act is, and we are to love them regardless and not judge them, because we all sin.  The word “sin” still makes me cringe, not sure why.

Does a gay person really feel like they’re accepted though, even stated that way?  Again, according to many people, homosexuality is a choice, something that people experimented with at some point in life and ended up thinking was for them.

But on the other hand, if it is not a choice but just an identity of who someone is, to be condemned for it as a sin is pretty frustrating, and since the majority are not gay, who are we to speak for that demographic?  Just as if I as an Asian American am offended by the O’Reilly interview in Chinatown (ugh), who are all the white people in the comments section telling us to calm down and not be so serious??

One thing I’m confused about is when I’ve discussed the passage where God forces Abraham (I think?) to sacrifice his son to prove his love.  When pushed to a corner, Christian friends usually fall back to “well that’s why it’s the Old Testament, the New Testament is more forgiving.”  But, it’s the same God right?  Unless whoever wrote the bible intended parts of it to be more focused on the overall message and moral, rather than interpreted literally word for word.

In fact, the parts about not laying with another man take place mostly in the Old Testament…

I’m still confused.  But I think it’s really great opening up and sharing true fellowship and seeking the purpose of life.

Navigating a Social War Zone

Today, I was describing to someone what I experience suffering from social anxiety in particular.  I went to my friend’s BBQ July 4th weekend just to try something new for myself, and found myself somehow returning for their weekly fellowship.  While I’ve had a great time getting to know everyone individually and as a group, the first few impressions of figuring out the relationship between everyone is both interesting and stressful.  This is the time again when you get a fresh start, as in high school, then college, study abroad, networking, building relationships and new friendships.  Each person is also probably on their best behavior and feeling each other’s vibes out, and I’ve been trying extra hard to push my introverted self out to make those connections, throwing myself out into the abyss and trying not to worry so much.  But really, it’s a bit like navigating a social war zone… you don’t want to come off too close and eager or clingy or desperate, but also you want to be friendly and confident and personable.  You don’t want anyone to think you’re over flirty or crossing boundaries to someone they might be having a thing with, and because you don’t know any better, it’s pretty difficult.  I don’t want to offend anyone but also be open about my thoughts and my personality, I want to be friends with everyone but not awkwardly ask for phone numbers or seem lost, crazy, prude, or whatever else judgments.

Also, everyone is just so damn friendly and there are so many guys at this church that it’s hard for me to tell if that’s just the way it is. Regardless, I’ve just been riding the wave, suddenly I’m invited to multiple events each week, I had the best time chilling in their town and church, and definitely feel the warmth of a community that is rare to find.

All I can do is keep faking it till it’s real.  That’s all for now.

“I’m okay” (but not really)

When someone asks you, “Is everything okay?”  or when people (at least in America) ask “How are you?”  The answer is probably 99% of the time “Good!” This is such an automatic reaction that I notice people continue talking without even waiting for the response, and they bustle to talk over each other to continue to other things or something to that likeness.

I’m a terrible liar, so it physically makes me uncomfortable whenever I have to answer things like this.  I’ve gotten better at it over the years, but it still makes it a lie.  Here’s a scary thought.  What if it never gets better?  Your answer will permanently stay a lie?

You hide behind your smile, but even that feels untruthful.  And people comfort you and fall to the default of “It will get better” with all those testimonies.  But for those where it didn’t get better, guess what?  They aren’t going to rain on anyone’s parade by publicly coming out and say “It doesn’t.”  Chances are, their lives have fallen so dismally they wouldn’t bother to.  They’re busy dealing with the heavy load that has been placed on their shoulders.  It could be anything… alcoholism, suicidal thoughts, drugs, disease, pain in general that won’t go away.  Maybe they were gone already.

And me?  I can train myself to follow the wisp of thoughts that it might get better, but I’ve lived 23 years like this, and my best hope is more that it will continue to stay like this, and not worsen.  That’s the truth.  But the truth is so dark, the issues are so widespread from the immediate to the long term, that I feel some days like I’m waiting in a holding cell for her expiration date.

Some people walk by this holding cell, either completely ignorant, oblivious, or just don’t give a fuck.  The few who stop might gawk, or ask with some sympathy how I’m doing.  You know what?  I don’t want your sympathy.  That’s like feeling sorry for someone, feeling pity.  I want empathy, I demand understanding for everyone in this world. But the reality again, is that real peace and happiness will never exist.  We want equality in the economy?  That’s called communism, which we know doesn’t work.  In democracy, someone will ALWAYS have to get the short end of the stick.  And there are too many damn selfish people in the world, statistically, many simply just want to get through life okay, can you blame them?  (sometimes, you can for being an asshole).

This is supposed be a blog about positivity but you know what?  Positivity and happiness is only measured in relevance to suffering and depression, so they’re one and the same topic.  Obtaining it, lack of it.  Here’s the real truth. Honesty, this here, the only space in existence where it exists, untainted.

And so, what would I reply to this person who asks me if I’m okay?  That’s a loaded question.  But maybe they don’t really want to know the whole truth.  As me, the one with the issues, am I supposed to be the one who bears the light bravely and inspiringly, beaming at everyone in my sickbed (figuratively speaking for now) so that I have any redeeming qualities and serve some sort of purpose for others?

I don’t want to sound emo, so I’ll just stick with “I’m okay, thanks :)”