Thanks for answering my question about reality and depression. I’m not sure I agree though, because just browsing through my dash on Tumblr alone seems to indicate that optimism is needed more than realism. Realistically, the odds are stacked steeply against us. Optimistically, we could ignore it and persevere anyway. Reality is depressing. It’s the belief in the unknown that seems to keep us going…belief that things can and will only get better, despite the trends of our lives. As cynical as I am, this same belief plagues me as well.
I need to learn to let go gracefully. It’s getting a little easier these days, but my nature still overwhelms me so often. Not just letting go of issues or betrayal from those close to me, or those that I’ve allowed into my personal space…but letting go of that which is unlikely to yield in the face of my limited influence no matter how distasteful I may find it to be.
My naivety causes me to invite total strangers into my personal space simply out of care or concern for what they’re contending with. Of course I do this selectively, although I’m more likely to give others the benefit of the doubt than to assume the worst of them. Why do I do this? I think it’s because through some ridiculous sense of logic, I believe that there’s truth in treating others the way I wish to be treated.
If I want someone to look beyond my past, to look beyond where I’m coming from but to rather appreciate what I’ve overcome and share my vision of where I’m going to, then I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t afford others the same respect or opportunity, if nothing else. None of this is even making sense anymore.
It’s a constant struggle to find certainty in my choices or my actions. Someone told me recently that it’s called ‘mindfulness’, whereas I’ve always thought of it quite simplistically as present-moment-thinking. Maybe it’s the same thing, or maybe it’s not. The impact remains the same. I’m so focused on worrying about the potential outcomes of everything that I rarely spend enough time just absorbing what is happening here and now.
The more I remind myself that the actions of others are a reflection of who they are and not who I am, the less consoling it is. Betrayal is the ultimate middle finger. It’s the ultimate fuck-you statement. Believing in others more than they believe in themselves is a reckless way to live. But it’s the only way I know how. Maybe it’s just a sign of desperation that my soul is screaming for acceptance but has yet to taste it.
The more I reach out, the more they recoil. But as long as I’m breathing, I’ll be reaching…sometimes I wish giving up was part of my nature…
I’d rather live a sincere life, or not at all. Safe is hypocritical. Happiness or sadness is only ever felt by those that ventured beyond their facades. The rest are pitiful creatures that leech off those that have courage and pretend to wear that courage as their own. I despise those invertebrates.They’re social liabilities that add to the angst of being human, but do little, if anything to contribute to the collective wholesomeness that they’re so easily willing to consume.