Someone close said that to me the other day, and said it so casually, like it was no big thing. I've said it myself, right here on this blog. I felt alarm and a little anger, because it seemed to make light of the struggle some of face on a daily basis. I guess I was dismayed that something like this was being regarded with such persiflage.
Today, I've been dealing with turmoil within. I am tired, and worrying. Intellectually I know what I have to do, but my emotions are winning, pushing down motivation and stifling action. I feel so enervated and I don't really know why.
Some might consider this a laziness, a lack of character, leading to a dark spiral of hopelessness. Yes, some of us feel things more intensely than others, we're made that way. Being constantly told by everyone that we can control this just makes us feel even more useless, especially when we fail to do so. We're mercurial and often appear to be like overgrown teenagers, kings and queens of our own dramas. I use the plural because I know I am not alone in this.
Aside: I was contacted by someone who wanted a grand, wild romance and I instinctively recoiled from that idea. "What would you damage yourself for?" was one of the questions that he asked. Once upon a time, that would have appealed to me -- oh yes, that mind-blowing, flying close to the sun, almost divine romance would have been my ideal. Damaging myself for that would have been par for the course. He couldn't have known that I'd already been there, done that and nearly bought the farm because of it. I had believed that merging with another person was nirvana. Sounds insane, doesn't it? I've since learned that losing oneself is a kind of madness, a descent that can end in death.
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