Beauty in the Darkness

I found two of my Australian friends on Facebook yesterday. I haven't talked to either of them for a couple of years (going on six actually). It really made me happy to get back in touch. Simple pleasures are the best things in life.

Life is a funny thing isn't it? So many ups and downs. I was telling Scott the other day that I would prefer if my life had gone a bit more smoothly thus far. He was quick to point out that everything that has happened has shaped who I am now. He's quite right, as usual. I'm not saying I crave an idyllic life... but there are some things I could definitely have missed out on, without losing sleep over it. In fact I would have had countless better nights' sleep had they not occurred at all.

People always tell me the things they love about me, such as my creativity, easy going-ness, and caring nature. These are definitely positive attributes for anyone, but they also affect me negatively. Not because of the implicit nature of these characteristics, but because of the social nature of my surroundings. I often wonder if I wasn't meant for this world.

Creativity has always been one of my strong suits, whether it be music, photography, painting, drawing, fashion, etc. But I often feel like a phoney walking around with an artist's outer shell; I have a REALLY hard time coming up with my own original ideas most of the time. This began when I started taking medication for depression and anxiety. Eleven years later, still taking these pills, I can't help but feel like there's a cloud in my brain blocking out my artistic receptors. However I place higher value on mental stability than the potential side effect of creative ideas which may or may not be sharpened by eliminating the medication.

My easy going nature has made social situations much more bearable for the people in my life, I'm sure, but it doesn't do much for me when others are uptight. I've been criticized more than once for "not giving a rat's ass" or being unresponsive to 'hostility' in the name of passion. If there's one thing I've learned from years of therapy, it's how to let things go. There are certain major things from my past which I still hang on to, but anything new that pops up is much more easily forgiven. In short, I've learned to pick and choose my battles (PMS is sometimes an exception). There are certain things which are just not worth getting upset about. That is something I carry with me a LOT when Mike and I argue/fight. I think a good 75% of our fights are unnecessary. Most of the time when I get upset during an argument, it's because he's reacting poorly (in my opinion) to a situation, or he's been drinking. He accuses me of not understanding his side of things. The problem is that I do understand; I just don't see the point in prolonging and exacerbating the issue. I have a very typically male mindset with fights: let's find a reasonable solution as quickly as possible to end hostilities. I don't think that's a bad thing.

My caring nature is my biggest weakness of all. The really sad part is that it shouldn't be considered a weakness... those two words shouldn't be together in the same sentence. This is a vicious circle with no beginning or end, and it makes me sad everyday. I care a great deal for the people in my life. My family is top priority, and my friends are my second family. I've made a good deal of friends over the years, and I keep in touch with most of them (some more regularly than others). But my caring doesn't stop there. I truly care about all living things on earth, and I will defend that to the death. I honestly get nauseous when I hear about animal cruelty. I watched a film on the Rwandan genocide a few weeks ago and it made me bawl my eyes out. Whenever I hear stories of child hunger, mass poverty, government corruption, war, torture and exploitation... I just want to crawl in a hole and forget that I belong to the human race. I care too much, and it has made me overly sensitive to the evils of this world. I believe this sensitivity is partially responsible for my ongoing anxiety... as Scott always tells me, I think too much. I guess anthropology was a bad discipline to choose. But because I genuinely care about people, and the world, and the future of the human race, it has left me mentally and emotionally drained a lot of the time. I often need to sleep after sitting through an anthropology class. It's too much suffering to handle for one small person.