11/10/18

I've got to get out of this funk

Thursday was so very, very dark
I cannot pretend it did not happen
And move along to the next thing
Nor do I need to dwell on it
But I do need to be cognizant of it

I cannot fight my illness
I cannot run from it
So neither fight nor flight can apply
Yet, that is sometimes the response
So one fights with one's self
Or runs from one's self

But there is no escape

Reality is
I have a serious, rare, long term disease
For which, supposedly, there is
No cure
So, the symptoms and all their derivatives
Must be managed
That is the best I can do
For now

My first and foremost responsibility is
Selfcare
Which isn't selfish
It is a lonesome task

Variety of pains
Shooting, aches, tenderness
Spasms
Muscle weakness
Movement in slow motion
Vertigo
Nausea
Headaches
Migraines
Overwhelming fatigue
Utter exhaustion
Scrambled eggs for brains
Anxiety
Depression
Suicidal ideation
Insomnia
Lowered immunity
Bone loss
Heartburn
Bloating

I am aware of and watchful for these
On a daily basis
I manage them as they arise
Not necessarily all at one time
But sometimes it is
All at once
The severity fluctuates
On any given day

So Carol, go easy on yourself
You really do a damn, good job

Us and them: Maybe I prefer boredom...

Why is the world so cruel?
Or is ugly more apt?
Violent? Mean? Hateful?
Hard-hearted? Greedy?
Suspicious? Paranoid?
Scapegoat-seeking?

Ah, yes.
"Negativity bias."
The human instinct to feel and see
the worst
so we are not overtaken by it,
so we can protect against it
for the survival of our progeny.

At some point, or points,
we all play the hypocrite.
The "interpreter from underneath."

Yet, as I mentally note the voluminous
shared aspects of our common humanity,
in the back of my mind lurks the question,

What about the sociopath?

That category of humanity who, supposedly,
cannot feel empathy?

The rules do not apply to them.
Yet, they are human.
Are they not also subject to
our common emotions,
our shared humanity?
Some good must dwell somewhere
within them?

How can I describe it?
Understand it?
This lurking question,
this not-quite-human reality,
working at cross-purposes with my
desire to believe
there is good in all humanity.
Is it difficult because it is so foreign?
Or is it difficult because it is too intimate?

Questions to which there are no clear answers.

Am I unable to see the sociopath as fully human?
What are they, if not fully human?
My only conclusion is that,
either in the womb or later,
an empathy-void developed
for which there is no cure.
If I cannot have empathy toward that,
am I fully human?

That's what life is.
A whole lotta damn questions.
And not as many answers.
Life would be pretty boring otherwise...

Maybe I prefer boredom...

*~*

"Some humans ain't human..." by John Prine

But still, "I wanna believe in humanity..." By Carole King

Validity

Why is your opinion more valid?
Because of confidence?
Because of belief?

I used to say,
"I don't just believe;
I know,"
when it came to the "right-dividing"
of the Scripture,
which spanned all life
and time and circumstance.

The Lion King

Three friends
lying on their backs,
staring up at the night sky
filled with tiny, twinkling lights.

One friend, Pumbaa, asks,
"Timon, ever wonder
what those sparkly dots are
up there?"

Timon answers,
"Pumbaa, I don't wonder.
I know."

Pumbaa replies,
"Oh.
What are they?"

Timon answers,
"They're fireflies.
Fireflies that got stuck up in that
big bluish, black thing."

Pumbaa replies,
"Oh. Gee.
I always thought they were
balls of gas
burning billions of miles away."

"Simba, what do you think?"

Simba is hesitant,
timid to reply.
But with some cajoling
he gets it out.

"Somebody once told me that
the great kings of the past
are up there,
watching over us."

Timon and Pumbaa ponder
for a moment.
And then burst into
laughter
at the thought of
dead royals watching over them.

Unknown to Pumbaa and Timon,
Simba is a royal.
A runaway, hiding in exile.
His father had been a great king
who was murdered when Simba,
now a young adult,
was a cub.

Whose opinion is more valid?
Mine? Yours?
His? Hers?