Brain Dump: An Old Thought Brought Back To Light

For a year or two now, one of the things I've held pride in is the fact that I felt like I didn't need a relationship, because to me that means that when I enter into a relationship, it will be because I want it, and not out of hormonal drive or some need to feel validated. 

Yet in that year or two, I've slipped up. This week is one of those. Perhaps it's the heavier load of work and homework- I'm working probably twice as many hours, and have more complex homework, and still have to fill obligations to friends and roommates, because I don't want to lose those precious relationships. Is it, then, so out of place, for me to wish that I had someone there to put their arm around me and tell me  I'm doing fine? To just sit with me, do homework in the living room with me. Someone that I'm truly comfortable around. Is it wrong to want that?

It's an interesting sort of feeling, for me. For the past couple weeks, I haven't had any interest at all in a relationship, right up until about three days ago. I seriously didn't even think about it. I was too busy, anyway, with homework and classes and getting used to a new schedule. 

But that's not the main point that I wanted to write about. That's not the old thought that came up. The old thought was this: That all pain is valid. There is no point where emotional pain is so insignificant that it should be disregarded. There is greater pain, yes, but that doesn't make the lesser pain unworthy of care. My stupid desire for a hug, for company when I'm lonely, shouldn't be disregarded. Someone I know is dealing with having to quit their job because they'd been working there for six years and never even been offered a raise. That may seem like a small reason to some, but that doesn't mean that they don't deserve help and support. 

Big issues need help and support as well. Abuse, loss, depression; all need that outreached hand and that knowledge that they are loved and cared for. But I would just like to say that we, as humans, should not allow the severity of these issues to constantly and entirely obscure smaller ones. 

I've told the story before, how there was a time where I felt incredibly insecure and sad, and I went to a friend and she told me I was being stupid and needed to suck it up. I have another story, however, of the flip side of the coin. This happened not long ago- a friend of mine who is depressed had run off early that morning, and we were afraid he might try to hurt himself. When I found out, I started to panic. By then, the issue had mostly been addressed, but it was still a cause of worry. My thoughts spiraled down the worst possible path, projecting the worst future. At that point, I was aware I needed to not be by myself- this kind of reaction was only hurting me and wouldn't help anything. So I texted another friend of mine, asking if I could just come over and hang out because I needed the company of someone who knew what had happened. She immediately said yes, despite being in the middle of her German homework with another member of her class. I just sat and talked with them, and I think that helped most of all. That night we actually ended up getting together with a few other people and doing something for that person, so it turned out much better, even for the one that we were all worried about, I think. It could have been so much worse, but it wasn't, because we banded together to help each other

My point is this: help others, even in the small things. Only good can come of it. 

Brain Dump: The Effect We Have

Every once in a while, I come across things like this

or this

and they always get me thinking. First of all, the obvious, wondering if anyone ever has done that about me. But also wondering why this happens. Why is there such fear around telling someone about your feelings for them? And why on earth don't we believe people can have feelings for us? 

I've had a couple close calls this year, where I almost lost some people who are very important to me in a very permanent way. I also seem to have lost several friends in a not-so-permanent way. These situations have only made me wonder more about this. About how friendships are handled and about how people don't believe they can be loved. It bothers me because on some days, I'm one of them. 

It is on those days that the first image I shared becomes a sort of comfort as well as fascination. Just imagine it: imagine the sheer number of people that you've noticed, thought were attractive, or liked and noticed every little thing that made them unique. And then think: someone has looked at you that way. In this wide, wide world, through the long years, someone has looked at you that way. More than one someone. Because the truth is, we're lied to about beauty for the first eighteen to twenty years of our lives. Because we're told by many sources that the standard of beauty is fixed and immovable, and to be beautiful you must measure up to this bar, arbitrarily set by people with cameras and darkrooms and fashion magazines. Yet, there is no fixed standard. Everyone is beautiful to someone; everyone is someone's type. But we don't always believe it.

So believe me when I tell you this: That someone has seen you and thought you were beautiful. They have watched you smile and breathe, watched you talk about something you love. And in that moment you were everything they needed, just as so many have been for you. And part of me thinks that this is the very definition of humanity, this give-and-take of beauty and love. Humanity is constantly loving and changing and worrying. 

Worry. 

That's what else is on my mind. I'm so worried. About anyone out there who doesn't believe me when I say that someone has thought you are beautiful. Someone has seen the light in your eyes. I'm worried about those who don't see that. Who don't see how many hands area outstretched to help, how many people they'd hurt if they...left. I'm so worried that it's almost a panic. And it's a good thing it's a busy day or the worry would overwhelm me, I just know it. I am so worried about the desperate measures these people will go to in order to escape the living lonely hell that life has become. I'm worried that they'll be different than I was, back when I truly believed that no one cared. I'm worried they'll hurt themselves in more permanent ways. It is a constant prayer in the back of my mind, that they will feel loved today, that they will see light. That they can see this caring that I have no clue how to express except to write these words and tell you these things, all of which are true.

I love you.

You are beautiful.

I have seen you and the light in your eyes. I have watched you laugh and smile. I have seen your despair. I have seen your soul, your strong, strong soul. And it is beautiful in a deeper way than anything superficial ever could be. 

I love you, my friend.

And I'm worried about you. I'm here. Let me help. Let me pick you up, shoulder part of your burden, just for a while. Anything to preserve the beauty that is you, the glory weighed down by shadows. 

You are beautiful, special, and wonderful, and your loss would leave a hole so wide, a chasm so deep, that it would last forever. The people that you know? None of them would ever ever stop missing you. 

Worry and beauty are on my mind today.

Brain Dump: Risks

What do you do when multiple choices are set before you? When each has its own merits, but attendant risks as well. When none seem better than the others, what do you do?

Do you pick the riskiest choice, that leaves you with the most knowledge?

Do you pick the slightly less risky option and just hope that it works out?

Or do you pick the easiest and remain comfortable in your ignorance?

Does what you choose depend on what the choice is? On what the possible results are? I find myself at quite a crossroads this night. To confront, to tell- or to leave in darkness, sweep under the rug and just let it quietly die, as it has been doing so far. I struggle to determine the gravity of the situation- trifling, or absolutely necessary- as that will be the factor in the end that makes the choice. Many things come to this crossroads eventually but none so emotionally wrenching as this: the possible loss of a friendship before it had a chance to truly begin. And not knowing the reasons why.

So perhaps this writing is choosing the second option on my list of three. Something less risky, but that still may yield unfavorable results. I doubt that any choice would yield positive ones. And perhaps this writing is just what I needed to release the tension and anger building inside me before something truly devastating occurs. Like losing my temper. I hate losing my temper. Or damaging this pseudo-friendship further. But perhaps it never existed except in my head and the only thing that will die is a delusion. I hope that is not true.

Really, this isn't risky at all though. The chances that the person in question will read this are undoubtedly minuscule. And I needed to write it.

A question, dear readers, though your numbers are few.

What do you do at such a crossroads? Do you sit back and watch? Do you do as I am doing?

Or do you take the leap?