there is no i in we.

sometimes i wish i could stop thinking. holy crap.

lately i've just been all in a dither over various situations in which somebody couldn't seem to deal with how antisocial and "feelingless" i am, and wanted/tried to change it.

(ps, those situations involved someone ending up lonely- and it wasn't me. and only partly because i don't get lonely) hahaha

no but really...i've been thinking a lot (read:toomuch) about things that are inherent inside me as a person, part of my core makeup that are simply different, and things that aren't and need to be changed. i've realized working with kids how differently wired we all are as people. there are a LOT of extroverted people in this world. people who crave other people's validation, who need each other. i'm learning that not only am i NOT like that, but there's nothing wrong with the fact that i'm not. my wiring is different, not busted. (well, at least not in those ways hehe)
it's a weight off of my chest, it's helping with my guilt issues...that i've had as long as i've been aware of being alive...so pretty much since i was a really young child.

it's a good thing to know. even better to know that it will never change because it's part of my actual being- and what's more, i don't WANT it to change and that's fine. more than fine actually. awesome.
the end.

FACE. PALM.

seriously. ugh.

here's something-

it takes a LOT for people to mean something to me.
and i don't say this proudly, or like i'm so cool or whatever. i don't know that it's necessarily a bad thing, but i don't know that it's good, either. you don't want to have "friends" that you don't really care or think about. and don't get me started on dating/relationships...people who jump in WAY too fast and freak the living hell out of me, because they don't understand what i've tried to tell them...that for me to care at all takes TIME. and it takes even longer for me to really be interested in some guy, or form what i feel is a true bond. and until then, well...they could be anybody.
 i should probably stop there, so that i don't sound completely heartless. Ha.
/endmusing

um, didn't i say that-

i did forget, in my years of being married...the many struggles i had during that time...just HOW independent and solitary i really am. and all i keep meeting now are people who DON'T get it. who want to change it.

it's a basic part of who i am...and it's not going ANYWHERE.

thxbye.

something's gotta give

sometimes i really think, other people's lives must be so simple. it must be simple to wake up NOT in pain, not sick to your stomach. NOT having to fight a battle to get yourself out of bed. sometimes i see people on facebook or whatever talking about their problems, and i wonder how it would really be to have those problems. what if my biggest issue every day was if i was going to make it to the gym after work, or who i was going to hang out with...or even some assignment for some class...those are all normal twenty-four year old person problems. what would it be like? the sad thing is, i can't hardly remember what it was like before this and it's only been (almost) two years.

at risk of sounding grandiose, let me say here that i realize there are obviously people who have it worse than i do. lots of people. but lately i've felt i have it pretty bad. a year ago i was able to fight this battle without it draining me both physically and mentally/emotionally. i used to try and just do everything anyway, even if i didn't feel up to it (which wasn't exactly smart OR what my doctors wanted me to do, but i digress)
these days, i just can't. my body is tired from this battle. since i first got sick, i haven't really made any improvement. the amount of damage and stress from this is huge.

i'll be meeting with a surgeon soon. all of my doctors recommend it now. even the ER doctors i've seen. a year ago, surgery was something i wouldn't even allow myself to consider but now, after living this way with absolutely NO break from it, NO improvement...i think it's time to look into it. one of my doctors told me that with the absolute crappy (no pun intended ha) quality of life i've had for the last nearly two years, surgery could seem like a miracle for me. i could be like a normal twenty-four year old. i feel like so much time has been wasted sick and i don't want to let anymore slip by. i'm afraid of surgery, but i'm afraid of continuing to live life like this. i honestly don't know how long i can keep it up before something gives.

so, that's that.

what then?

if i end up having surgery, i feel like it will ruin everything.

i don't want to miss out on things. i don't want to feel ugly and unattractive having such an "embarrassing" kind of surgery.

ugh.

i lost my heart i buried it too deep, under the iron sea

i've realized that a LOT more of my apathy stems from/is the result of self-preservation than i'd previously allowed myself to know.
things have happened lately that have broken the hearts of people close to me. the wrenching, all-consuming pain i feel in witnessing THEIR suffering is so much worse than anything i myself actually experience. it tears me apart and tends to consume me if i'm not careful. it  makes perfect sense to me that i avoid caring about people, remain aloof and detached. when i REALLY love and care about people...i feel their sorrows and pains so acutely, to a point that i think is more than a little excessive.
i need to find a better balance between apathy and being SO sensitive to the pain of my loved ones that it actually disrupts my life. there's nothing admirable about going through life completely removed and apathetic like i tend to do.


just a thought :)

timshel

John Steinbeck, East of Eden

“Do you remember when you read us the sixteen verses of the fourth chapter of Genesis and we argued about them?”

“I do indeed. And that’s a long time ago.”

“Ten years nearly,” said Lee. “Well, the story bit deeply into me and I went into it word for word. The more I thought about the story, the more profound it became to me. Then I compared the translations we have—and they were fairly close. There was only one place that bothered me. The King James version says this—it is when Jehovah has asked Cain why he is angry. Jehovah says, ‘If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.’ It was the ‘thou shalt’ that struck me, because it was a promise that Cain would conquer sin.”

Samuel nodded. “And his children didn’t do it entirely,” he said.

Lee sipped his coffee. “Then I got a copy of the American Standard Bible. It was very new then. And it was different in this passage. It says, ‘Do thou rule over him.’ Now this is very different. This is not a promise, it is an order. And I began to stew about it. I wondered what the original word of the original writer had been that these very different translations could be made.”

Samuel put his palms down on the table and leaned forward and the old young light came into his eyes. “Lee,” he said, “don’t tell me you studied Hebrew!”

Lee said, “I’m going to tell you. And it’s a fairly long story. Will you have a touch of ng-ka-py?”

“You mean the drink that tastes of good rotten apples?”

“Yes. I can talk better with it.”

“Maybe I can listen better,” said Samuel.

While Lee went to the kitchen Samuel asked, “Adam, did you know about this?”

“No,” said Adam. “He didn’t tell me. Maybe I wasn’t listening.”

Lee came back with his stone bottle and three little porcelain cups so thin and delicate that the light shone through them. “Dlinkee Chinee fashion,” he said and poured the almost black liquor. “There’s a lot of wormwood in this. It’s quite a drink,” he said. “Has about the same effect as absinthe if you drink enough of it.”

Samuel sipped the drink. “I want to know why you were so interested,” he said.

“Well, it seemed to me that the man who could conceive this great story would know exactly what he wanted to say and there would be no confusion in his statement.”

“You say ‘the man.’ Do you then not think this is a divine book written by the inky finger of God?”

“I think the mind that could think this story was a curiously divine mind. We have had a few such minds in China too.”

“I just wanted to know,” said Samuel. “You’re not a Presbyterian after all.”

“I told you I was getting more Chinese. Well, to go on, I went to San Francisco to the headquarters of our family association. Do you know about them? Our great families have centers where any member can get help or give it. The Lee family is very large. It takes care of its own.”

“I have heard of them,” said Samuel.

“You mean Chinee hatchet man fightee Tong war over slave girl?”

“I guess so.”

“It’s a little different from that, really,” said Lee. “I went there because in our family there are a number of ancient reverend gentlemen who are great scholars. They are thinkers in exactness. A man may spend many years pondering a sentence of the scholar you call Confucius. I thought there might be experts in meaning who could advise me.

“They are fine old men. They smoke their two pipes of opium in the afternoon and it rests and sharpens them, and they sit through the night and their minds are wonderful. I guess no other people have been able to use opium well.”

Lee dampened his tongue in the black brew. “I respectfully submitted my problem to one of these sages, read him the story, and told him what I understood from it. The next night four of them met and called me in. We discussed the story all night long.”

Lee laughed. “I guess it’s funny,” he said. “I know I wouldn’t dare tell it to many people. Can you imagine four old gentlemen, the youngest is over ninety now, taking on the study of Hebrew? They engaged a learned rabbi. They took to the study as though they were children. Exercise books, grammar, vocabulary, simple sentences. You should see Hebrew written in Chinese ink with a brush! The right to left didn’t bother them as much as it would you, since we write up to down. Oh, they were perfectionists! They went to the root of the matter.”

“And you?” said Samuel.

“I went along with them, marveling at the beauty of their proud clean brains. I began to love my race, and for the first time I wanted to be Chinese. Every two weeks I went to a meeting with them, and in my room here I covered pages with writing. I bought every known Hebrew dictionary. But the old gentlemen were always ahead of me. It wasn’t long before they were ahead of our rabbi; he brought a colleague in. Mr. Hamilton, you should have sat through some of those nights of argument and discussion. The questions, the inspection, oh, the lovely thinking—the beautiful thinking.

“After two years we felt that we could approach your sixteen verses of the fourth chapter of Genesis. My old gentlemen felt that these words were very important too—‘Thou shalt’ and ‘Do thou.’ And this was the gold from our mining: ‘Thou mayest.’ ‘Thou mayest rule over sin.’ The old gentlemen smiled and nodded and felt the years were well spent. It brought them out of their Chinese shells too, and right now they are studying Greek.”

Samuel said, “It’s a fantastic story. And I’ve tried to follow and maybe I’ve missed somewhere. Why is this word so important?”

Lee’s hand shook as he filled the delicate cups. He drank his down in one gulp. “Don’t you see?” he cried. “The American Standard translation orders men to triumph over sin, and you can call sin ignorance. The King James translation makes a promise in ‘Thou shalt,’ meaning that men will surely triumph over sin. But the Hebrew word, the word timshel—‘Thou mayest’— that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.’ Don’t you see?”

“Yes, I see. I do see. But you do not believe this is divine law. Why do you feel its importance?”

“Ah!” said Lee. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time. I even anticipated your questions and I am well prepared. Any writing which has influenced the thinking and the lives of innumerable people is important. Now, there are many millions in their sects and churches who feel the order, ‘Do thou,’ and throw their weight into obedience. And there are millions more who feel predestination in ‘Thou shalt.’ Nothing they may do can interfere with what will be. But ‘Thou mayest’! Why, that makes a man great, that gives him stature with the gods, for in his weakness and his filth and his murder of his brother he has still the great choice. He can choose his course and fight it through and win.” Lee’s voice was a chant of triumph.

Adam said, “Do you believe that, Lee?”

“Yes, I do. Yes, I do. It is easy out of laziness, out of weakness, to throw oneself into the lap of deity, saying, ‘I couldn’t help it; the way was set.’ But think of the glory of the choice! That makes a man a man. A cat has no choice, a bee must make honey. There’s no godliness there. And do you know, those old gentlemen who were sliding gently down to death are too interested to die now?”

Adam said, “Do you mean these Chinese men believe the Old Testament?”

Lee said, “These old men believe a true story, and they know a true story when they hear it. They are critics of truth. They know that these sixteen verses are a history of humankind in any age or culture or race. They do not believe a man writes fifteen and three-quarter verses of truth and tells a lie with one verb. Confucius tells men how they should live to have good and successful lives. But this—this is a ladder to climb to the stars.” Lee’s eyes shone. “You can never lose that. It cuts the feet from under weakness and cowardliness and laziness.”

Adam said, “I don’t see how you could cook and raise the boys and take care of me and still do all this.”

“Neither do I,” said Lee. “But I take my two pipes in the afternoon, no more and no less, like the elders. And I feel that I am a man. And I feel that a man is a very important thing—maybe more important than a star. This is not theology. I have no bent toward gods. But I have a new love for that glittering instrument, the human soul. It is a lovely and unique thing in the universe. It is always attacked and never destroyed— because ‘Thou mayest.’”