Feelings: Making the most beautiful people.

"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen."

- Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Following Kübler-Ross' quotation on the feelings of people, or rather the impact of feelings on people, I have to say that I have always connected with people who have not had the easiest of lives. You will notice that these people have a sort of resolve and resilience that is completely admirable, and they do make the greatest friends. More than likely, this is due to the fact that having survived so much and dealt with so much drama in their own lives, they seem to become the more compassionate members of our society. The people who understand when to speak and when to listen, or when to reach out with a kind act to brighten someone else's day. What isn't admirable about that kind of human spirit? Although I am somewhat of a cynic myself, I could never think unkindly about these sorts of beautiful people.

The reason I mention these sorts of people is because very recently in my life, feelings have become such a major issue and my friends (these wonderful people) have helped guide me through it as best as they could. Feelings in general are definitely one of the most important parts of being human (as Dumbledore explained to Harry), but when feelings aren't "good" or "healthy," they are completely destructive. Feelings do not just appear, at least not to me, they build and are shaped by external influences and they can go either way. They can create something amazing like loving relationships or they can destroy everything that was once "good." As I've always considered myself much more of a thinking person, which is true when I'm being objective or in the position to do so, when it comes to my own life I am definitely much more of a feeler or an empath (not to be mistaken with Phoebe from Charmed).* 

Being more empathetic towards people can never be admonished. It is certainly a trait I wish more people in this world possessed, but there is a limit to this "ability" of mine. I think Andrew Boyd put it best when he wrote:

“Compassion hurts. When you feel connected to everything, you also feel responsible for everything. And you cannot turn away. Your destiny is bound with the destinies of others. You must either learn to carry the Universe or be crushed by it. You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors.” 

Unfortunately for me, I haven't yet conquered the skills required to disconnect myself from other people's lives. In particular I seem to have a problem with getting caught up in the feelings of others and disregarding my own at the same time. This is a big problem for me, a huge problem in fact. The most alarming aspect of this particular problem is taking on other people's thoughts and feelings, while your own aren't stable in the slightest. I've done this, very recently with a friend of mine. To make matters worse, neither of us possessed stable thoughts or feelings, both sets were tumultuous and overwhelming to the point where I began having panic attacks. I woke up from nightmares and panicked, not only was I drowning in my sleep, now I was drowning under the weight of more than just my own feelings. I couldn't bear it. So you see, there comes a point when human emotion can be so hurtful and feeling responsible for other people's lives and feelings can just create the worst sort of despair imaginable, especially when you realise you cannot possibly fix everything. Trying to fix other people and make them stronger is an impossible task if your own feelings and sense of responsibility are built upon shaky foundations.

Everyone knows what it is like to feel stressed (not teenage girls though), to panic, to be nervous or sad when another friend is sad. No one ever wants a friend to feel alone, to be overwhelmed by despair and pain and most people will adopt or attempt to share some of those feelings. However, most people know about the importance of boundaries. We'll call them boundaries because that is what I think they are (think of a wall), even though I've never had a friend say to me "okay George, you're overstepping my emotional boundaries here." They exist because, let's face it, most of us have enough to be going on with and it isn't healthy to become depressed just because your friend is. You can't help people by mimicking them. Once again, another failing of mine. I have a remarkable tendency to absorb another person's feelings at times, close friends or family I mean. I don't actually wander the streets and say "hey buddy, tell me about it, let's have a moment here." That would be absurd and well, despite what I'm telling you in this blog entry, I do have a cap on my levels of compassion and empathy, I only have enough reserves for those I love dearly.

The reason I'm writing all of this, about feelings, beautiful people, the importance of boundaries, is mostly for my own benefit I'll admit. It's more to remind myself of these things which I know, but which I often forget to put into practice. I'm depressed, I get overwhelmed and anxious easily, I'm not vulnerable but I'm not a rock like Paul Simon or Art Garfunkel** either. My own feelings or perhaps even my whole existence, exists in my mind as an outlier in the data. The way I am, I would never want a friend of mine to be. The things I do, like taking responsibility for other people's lives or to take their feelings to spare them pain, I think that is a very humane response, but not a healthy one. I wouldn't recommend doing it. 

People experience different feelings and responses for a reason and I suppose my reason for wanting to spare certain people pain is because I love them more than words can express. I've been thinking about boundaries more and more though and I think that most of our lives are dealing with feelings and experiencing pain, sadness and heartbreak, because these things are what make beautiful people and encourage compassion. Our feelings, our experiences, it builds our foundations and makes us stronger people in the grand scheme of things. 

As for me though, my moonlighting days as a Charmed One have been crippling that progress for some people and I'm sorry, that wasn't my intention. The only thing I created was more pain for myself, I caused severe frustration in quite a number of people and I realised the dreadful truth that I am actually only human, not a Charmed One (although they were technically human). I can't do everything for people (even though I want to). 

I think I would have preferred the power of telekinesis, but only if I could move thoughts or feelings out of my mind to somewhere else entirely. Apart from telekinesis, empathy isn't too bad though, once you learn how to control it. It's just a damn shame it takes so much work, but that's humanity for you, we always have to be feeling something. Nothing is ever easy.  

Notes: 

* Phoebe (Alyssa Milano, the babe) actually did go crazy from empathy when she received that power in Charmed, but she learnt how to control it. Prue (Shannen Doherty, power of telekinesis) did as well in the first series (before she was killed off).  

** I Am A Rock by Simon & Garfunkel, appreciate it. 

I just want you to know who I am.

To get straight to the point, I have had absolutely no luck recently.  Injuries, depression, worries and friend's problems, it's a lot for one person to deal with apparently. I had a fabulous birthday, everything was perfect, it was too good to be true. Obviously it was a little too good, because this week has just proved to me that good things don't ever last longer than a few days for me.

These past few days have been a slap to the face, a snap back to reality. All I can say is that life, specifically my life, is terrifying, disappointing and painful. It's even more painful when you really don't want to be here anymore. There are a handful of people in this world, family and friends, that would break my heart if they left me. The people that can make you laugh, smile and cry, sometimes simultaneously. Perhaps that's a good motive to go first, then I don't have to suffer that pain. Selfish, but even the thought of my parents ever leaving me is too much to deal with. I'd hate for them to leave and it hurts me to think of leaving them, even though I've tried to quite a few times now.

Sometimes though, those people you cherish the most aren't enough to halt the inevitable or destroy your despair. Even if you're in love with someone and you want to give them everything you have and share every moment with them, it just isn't enough. Just being in love with someone is an ordeal in itself, it's a bit like a thunderstorm. There's bright lights, loud noises and you're startled, but then there's rain and it's both fierce and calming. You're frightened, but at the same time you can't look away even if it means you get completely soaked to the bone. You can recognise something beautiful and terrifying when you see it and it makes you stay, despite all the fear. That's always what I've thought love to be anyway, something so powerful, destructive and beautiful all at once.

Even love and everything it encompasses isn't enough sometimes and really, if that isn't enough, what else could be? Hicks said there's a clear choice between fear and love and while I think the man was brilliant, sometimes there isn't that clear choice and that fear and your love for people meld into something dark and twisted. That's true despair.

I took a look at my life recently and I didn't like what I saw. I am so sick and tired of pain and hurting people, most of all I hate to disappoint people. I have been such a disappointment. I behaved myself throughout school because my sister was the rebellious child and my parents expected me to be good. I went to University because my family wanted me to go and be successful, not because I wanted to. I studied History because I originally loved it and so did my Nanna, but then she realised I didn't want to be a History teacher and she grew disappointed too. I've made all these choices and shaped my life around all these expectations and what I'm left with is nothing I originally wanted and absolutely no aspirations of my own. I've missed out on all the things other people my age have already done, all those relationships and stories they can tell, but I can't because it wasn't right of me to do those things when I was expected to be such a prim and proper person. I'm not saying I wasn't true to myself, I always wore what I wanted, listened to musicians who inspired me and picked my own influences, but my main choices were made for me. Maybe that's why I'm in such a mess now, I have no one to make my choices and I'm much better at managing other people and their problems than I am at managing myself.

This week I just wanted some sort of answer. I wanted to know where I was going. I wanted some sort of epiphany or talent that would take me somewhere. Instead I realised I had absolutely nothing, apart from my family and a few close friends, I have nothing of value to offer anyone. It's a terrible thing to rely on other people for your own happiness. I realised this, I bother people too much. I had some sort of moment of clarity when I realised that ending this, whatever this is, was the only thing I could choose for myself. I went from being so completely surrounded by darkness into somewhere brighter, just at the thought that I would never have to worry again. I wrote out all these notes and letters, not suicide notes, just notes of gratitude to everyone that I thought was significant in my life but who I had never gotten to thank. I wrote one to an art teacher I had whose kindness used to make me cry, another to one of my history teachers who I was always a bitch to and said something nasty to, something I still regret three years later. I wanted to thank him while I had the chance because he was actually amazing, perhaps a tad intimidating though. So I wrote out all these notes and they were heartfelt and genuine and I wrote them with feeling, like they would be my last ever words and my last chance to let them know how much I valued their impact on my life. When I woke up the next day, I was completely devastated. All my despair returned, all the things I wrote still sat there and I still can't touch them now. It's a bit like being tortured by some sort of mirage you see in the distance and as soon as you brush your fingertips against it, it just slips away again.

I spent hours and hours today just worrying and crying. I'll probably do the same tomorrow and the day after that, because there is no point to my life at the moment. There's nothing I want to achieve, there's nothing I want to do, I just want peace and some ending. I don't want to disappoint people but I don't want to be the same person. I've gone too far now though and I can't change anymore. I can't be bothered competing in a world full of people and I can't be bothered pretending to enjoy life. My father wrote on my birthday card last week that I should "love life" and all I could think of was that yes, I really should, but I don't. God I love my friends and my family and I would do anything for them, all I ask is that sometime soon they let me go. I just don't belong here anymore and I can feel it in my heart that these days are limited and those few moments when I laugh or when I smile, they are fewer and farther between. I don't want to leave though and be remembered as this loner, depressed girl, who hated parties and sat by herself. I want my family and my friends to remember how much I loved them and those moments when they made me laugh or smile, they were genuine moments. I want them to know how much their company and their happiness meant to me. Seeing my friends and my family happy has I think, been the highlight and greatest joy of my life.

Death is inevitable, but kindness is immortal.

"What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal."
Albert Pike

Talking about death to any living human being is a certain way to end any conversation. It's like the Police showing up at your house when you're having an awesome party, unless no one showed up, then you're grateful for any social interaction. I'm not saying the Police are the physical equivalent of death, it just so happens that there are negative connotations attached to that particular career choice. I didn't start it, society has spoken.

What has always confused me, ever since I could properly comprehend what death actually is, was why people didn't ever want to talk about it. Whenever I try and approach the topic with other people, they call me morbid or depressive. That bugs me. I'm not purposely being morbid, I don't consider it a depressing subject at all. Just because the majority of people are so determined to ignore death until they can't any longer, is not my problem. Ignorance may be bliss, but in this case ignorance is more like religion and bliss is only a self-sustained faith that eventually dies because that is what people and ideas do, they die. There, I've said it. We are all going to die.

And if we are all going to die anyway, shouldn't we all just enjoy ourselves? People tell me to stop smoking, it's going to give me cancer. To them I say everyone has their vices, it's how we know we're still alive. The problem is that people don't want to die, well, more specifically they want to prolong the inevitable. I can understand that, I won't jump on the bandwagon of trying to live for a century, but I can understand the logic of it. Who wouldn't want to live until they're at the age when they can't do most things for themselves and their independence and self respect are almost completely gone? It sounds amazing.

Just because some people have realised that if they live healthy and respectable lives they can live longer, doesn't mean that we all have to live that way or die that way. Actually, does it really matter  how a person dies at all? If someone lives a happy and healthy life and then dies in a tragic way, is that worse than an alcoholic who has drank themselves to death? I don't think people should even try and measure how much someone deserves to live, because I don't really believe anyone deserves to die, nature will cut us off when it is our time. Even the worst criminals, the lowest of the low, shouldn't be put to death for their crimes. I don't believe in Capital Punishment because that's just an eye for an eye isn't it? It doesn't even undo what the person has done, it just degrades the living into taking another unnecessary life.

Apart from my semi-political ramblings, what I really wanted to say is that we really shouldn't fear death. We shouldn't avoid talking about it because everyone thinks it's a tad depressing. That's just a person's perspective and for me it isn't so bad. I hope I last for however long it takes me to make some sort of impact on people's lives or to make sure that the people I love are truly happy. Following Pike's argument, if we make a difference to someone else's life, if we make someone laugh, if we help a stranger or just do what everyone is capable of doing, then will death be so depressing? You can die completely unburdened and safe with the knowledge that you actually made some small difference and you won't be forgotten. I think that is what people fear the most perhaps, being forgotten in a world with millions of people. Maybe that is why people choose to breed, I don't actually know, I'm not currently a breeder. What I do know is that I've never forgotten the old lady who used to give me lollies and hugs when I was very small. She lived alone, down the street from me. I've never forgotten her small acts of kindness every time we met and walking past her old house now, as a twenty year old adult, I still have fond memories. Those memories prove that kindness and the impact you have on other people will always keep you alive in a way. People will never have to worry about being forgotten so long as they can touch someone else while they're alive. That is the purpose of our lives I think.