Do you ever feel that life is not only hard and unfair, but also mean and downright scary? That's how I'm feeling right now. Nothing is promised to you no matter how much you work at it, and everything can be taken away from you in a moment, etc.
If you know what I'm talking about, what do you do to make yourself feel better.. what do you tell yourself, who do you talk to, etc?
Since baffled is posting here (oh and hey Russ
), I might as well.WA261, sertraline doesn't change the way things are, no matter how great and steady the world may seem from those eyes. If you dig, you'll still find specs and remnants of the meanness and scariness of living. Drugs do make coping easier, and can sometimes take you places, but they shut other, more important doors into experience and discovery.
Cmin7, I don't know if you're aware, but I usually do a whole spiel about how people all think they are alone, how nobody can find love, how there is much hatred and evil, how we are doomed to be alone "in the austerity of our minds" followed by another spiel about how every cloud has a silver lining, how there is much good to be done if we choose it, how good a hobby can feel or how good it feels to know that there are people out there who care.
I won't do that today, it doesn't feel right somehow.
We enter naked into this world and naked we exit. There are no covers to help us. We think there is money to comfort, and it does. We think there are friends to solace in times of grief and rejoice in times of happiness and they do. We think our own determination and hard work or wit, intellect, charisma, good genes, et cetera will help us and then when we go through the first two or three decades, when we try out all the world has to offer and still realize we aren't better off then the mindless zygote causing our presence today, then we are looking again at the injustice and evil and lack of good. Nothing is fair. The smart, the nice do not profit and are crushed by the mean and spiteful. The gentle in spirit and the meek are stamped upon until we look at them and wonder what forces could have caused such pain and how is it possible for them to go on living and even stop once in while to say Cheers !
. It doesn't seem fair. It's just a bunch of dumb luck. I was born pretty, I was born ugly, I was born rich, I was born poor, I was born... Here I am. Here I am, God, and now what? It's scary out there. I don't want to go out and get into the competition and encounter the forces again that brought me into this world. And I don't want to stay here by myself because I long, oh how sweet that is, for company, for people, for meaning, for creating a story and venturing on a journey. And I don't know what to do. Here I am. Nothing was promised to me, how can anyone do this to me? Why wasn't I born in some other place? Why is my life so hard and others can go about smiling, they have all the luck.Some time ago, I entered a home and it was full of life. I didn't know what to make of it. The people lived in filth and squalor. They were poor. They didn't have much in this world, they weren't very smart or gifted and they weren't cultured or proper. And the home was full of life. It was baffling. They didn't have successful careers or any fancy trophies or pieces of paper to hang on the wall to show how important they were. And the home was full of life. The kids were running around, the wife was busy trying to keep things in order, but she had a smile. They were poor. The home was full of life.
What did that mean? Strawberries taste so good.
If you know what I'm talking about, what do you do to make yourself feel better.. what do you tell yourself, who do you talk to, etc?
I don't do much to make myself feel better. Baffled and Russ here have talked about recognizing that one is responsible for one's destiny, to accept responsibility and to enjoy life, to remember to smile and to laugh and to enjoy things and to not get too discouraged. I think that's all very good. It helps to have a positive attitude and indeed this maybe a solution for many people. I don't think that's my solution, at least, not very rationally. I don't think I need to tell myself to feel better. There is joy in the world and there is joy in the hardship and misery you describe. I don't tell myself anything, what's the point, we all die. Who do I talk to? I think people wind up talking to me, usually.
Strawberries taste so good. It will be June soon and I can go and pick them. Migrant workers usually come to pick as well for the season. They have great stories to tell.
Cheers !
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