“No one is to be called an enemy, all are your benefactors, and no one does you harm. You have no enemy except yourselves.”
About a month ago, I started writing this entry as defense: I realized that most people in my life emote based on external situations or conversations, “actual things happening,” and I realize my emotions are generally born within and not always (almost never really) based in the external world. What is happening is happening is how I usually see it, and although I always voice an opinion, I see the world in constant flux and I know things are moving forward all the time, so I tend not to trip too hard on that which is unimportant. But at that point a month ago, I was going through something very hard within myself and although I can’t exclude the external from my experience (as everything is all the same anyway- boundaries are just illusions to help us navigate reason, thought, feeling, etc.), I know what I was feeling was something innately bore within me. That hard sadness within is inclusive of my essence. I had a coworker ask me what was going on because I’m also not good at hiding my emotions and I felt so defensive that something had to be “going on” when my experience had never been relevant really. I guess that is maybe the whole point. But I’ll see if I can explain.
At the end of the day, it has never been my life that was hard, or the people in my life cruel, or the temperatures too cold or the world too harsh or any of any of any of it. I love the world, dearly. And in my experience, the world has always been good to me. But there are days when I wake up and feel an actual fear of waking up. If you have ever experienced depression, this is probably a familiar feeling for you. My conflict is that positive relationship with the world confuses my experience of depression and anxiety, as those seem to come from a natural instinct within me that says my mental state is shifting into darkness. I feel this is the meeting in me of my parents in some ways – my dad always starkly aware of the pain the human brain causes itself (internal) and my mom constantly a bubble of positive energy for the love of the world without any regard to self (external). This is not to suggest my dad is a sad guy or that my mom is necessarily a happy person, but that their approaches to the world shaped my understanding of who I am and how I grew. I draw my energy from the external, but feel exclusively from within without much regard to how I should be feeling based on how things are outside of me.
People are always asking ‘why’ we are upset. And I’m not sure if I am the only one or if it’s just not as normal for other people as it is for me to cry in public, but I don’t always have an answer. Sometimes there is a weight within me that draws slow tears. I’m not doing anything. I’m not anywhere specific. All of the things that have happened in my life have lead up to this moment, but it is instinctual- I’m crying just because it is within me to cry. I’m terrified, and it’s not of the world. Most of the times I have ‘not’ done something in my life was based on this weight— I can barely lift myself out of bed sometimes, hardly can imagine pretending that I’m enough of a person to do this great thing. It’s not that the world has ever once told me I wasn’t good enough— the people in my life have generally been colored of the extraordinary and encouraging and I just never had that on my own. I never knew how to listen to the world telling me all of the good things within me because I have a brain full of self-definitions.
And here we are again maybe at misunderstanding. The darkness was never something I hated. In fact, I love my blues. I love what they are inside me and that this moment is always impenetrable by the external. That no happy or good thing can understand it. It’s nice to have a secret, I guess. There is an insane joy within me paired with that darkness that I value as much and it is my secret too. It’s the way I am, these two in constant conversation, “pools of sorrow, waves of joy,” all of the insanity bubbling within me is what pours out and makes me the person you see. It’s just not always a person I know how to share.
There’s some kind of judgment that happens when this is your nature, though. That you just are sad, or you just are happy, or you just are whatever you are. If people ask, know that you don’t always have to have an answer. It’s okay. Sometimes people just feel the way the feel. Sometimes it’s a lack of awareness, sometimes it’s hormonal, sometimes it just is. Sometimes it isn’t.
I’ve never had an easy time answering when people asked me ‘why’ I was upset, crying, etc. I just did those things. I just had those feelings. Sometimes I feel because of _________. Sometimes I cry because ____ said _______. But often, I am crying because my insides overflow and reach out into the external. But I just question, ‘why’ is it so important anyway? When I am crying, sometimes I wish somebody would just sit with me, and not ask me anything, not try to hug me super tight or kiss me or talk with me, but just let me be who I am in front of them. That’s all I’m asking for. I think that’s all any of us are asking for, no matter what stuff our tears are made from.
The next time you’re crying, instead of asking yourself why, look in the mirror. Investigate the way your eyes probably change colors, the way your nose wrinkles like the way your grandma’s always did, how your cheeks get hot. Look at that person and see if you are okay with it. See if you can look at that person in the mirror and not feel pity or curiosity, but acceptance. The most important thing sometimes is just to be wholly aware of who you are in the moment of those tears coming down your face and other times the most important thing is just to know you’re crying. Okay.
Shoe Bird. 