It takes my pain away...
This is a post that's been a long time in the making and considering.
I've been thinking about pain and suffering a lot over the last couple months. Not on my part, mind you; I like to think that I'm past my emo phase and I fully understand how good I've got it. No, I've been thinking about my reactions to other people's suffering.
It seems that everyday, I encounter suffering on the part of one of my friends. Whether it's expressed through a blog post, an e-mail, or in a conversation, it's a rare day when I don't hear that someone I care about is having a hard time. I don't think that's unusual: this modern life is hard for all of us.
What scares me is when I do nothing about it.
One of the things I've always prided myself on is my empathy. I always felt it was important to go out of the way to help people in need. Without going into details, I have a long history of doing everything in my power to help people get through their struggles.
Yet somedays, I now find myself reading someone's blog, and finding out about their difficulties and thinking, "There's nothing I can do." I talk to people about their problems, and all I can offer are empty words of little comfort. The perfunctory "I'm there for you." The obligatory "Don't forget you have friends." (As though it makes a difference, in so many cases.) And let us not forget the ever-popular "Call me later and we can talk about it more in depth." Why? Why not talk about it NOW in-depth?
When did I start to lose my capacity for empathy? It's not gone, not by any means. But, objectively speaking, I know it's not as strong as it once was.
Deep in my heart, I want to help them all. I want to be able to be a real supportive friend to every last friend of mine who needs it. But I don't feel like I can. I feel like I fall short, even comparative to what I used to do.
Maybe I've become fatigued. I've read a bit about "kindness fatigue" and how some people eventually get tired of giving their all to help people. But I don't feel like I've done THAT much, where that should be the case. Maybe it's me becoming more of a realist. Maybe it's that bloody "growing up" thing that I thought I was still putting off.
But then I stop. And I think to myself, "Are you being too hard on yourself?" And I think the answer is yes. Because I shouldn't be the only one helping my friends; that's why we all have multiple friends. We all help each other when we're able. When I don't respond, it's not because my heart is cold or I'm tired of helping: it's because I'm mature enough to know when I can't help a certain situation, and giving vague, general support is really all that's in my power.
Apparently, realism is not as bad as I had once imagined it to be.
The transition from a "heroic" ideal of myself, the crusader who helps all of his friends with all of their problems, to a more realistic view of my capabilities and what I can do has been tumultous. But I think I'm getting there.
I've been thinking about pain and suffering a lot over the last couple months. Not on my part, mind you; I like to think that I'm past my emo phase and I fully understand how good I've got it. No, I've been thinking about my reactions to other people's suffering.
It seems that everyday, I encounter suffering on the part of one of my friends. Whether it's expressed through a blog post, an e-mail, or in a conversation, it's a rare day when I don't hear that someone I care about is having a hard time. I don't think that's unusual: this modern life is hard for all of us.
What scares me is when I do nothing about it.
One of the things I've always prided myself on is my empathy. I always felt it was important to go out of the way to help people in need. Without going into details, I have a long history of doing everything in my power to help people get through their struggles.
Yet somedays, I now find myself reading someone's blog, and finding out about their difficulties and thinking, "There's nothing I can do." I talk to people about their problems, and all I can offer are empty words of little comfort. The perfunctory "I'm there for you." The obligatory "Don't forget you have friends." (As though it makes a difference, in so many cases.) And let us not forget the ever-popular "Call me later and we can talk about it more in depth." Why? Why not talk about it NOW in-depth?
When did I start to lose my capacity for empathy? It's not gone, not by any means. But, objectively speaking, I know it's not as strong as it once was.
Deep in my heart, I want to help them all. I want to be able to be a real supportive friend to every last friend of mine who needs it. But I don't feel like I can. I feel like I fall short, even comparative to what I used to do.
Maybe I've become fatigued. I've read a bit about "kindness fatigue" and how some people eventually get tired of giving their all to help people. But I don't feel like I've done THAT much, where that should be the case. Maybe it's me becoming more of a realist. Maybe it's that bloody "growing up" thing that I thought I was still putting off.
But then I stop. And I think to myself, "Are you being too hard on yourself?" And I think the answer is yes. Because I shouldn't be the only one helping my friends; that's why we all have multiple friends. We all help each other when we're able. When I don't respond, it's not because my heart is cold or I'm tired of helping: it's because I'm mature enough to know when I can't help a certain situation, and giving vague, general support is really all that's in my power.
Apparently, realism is not as bad as I had once imagined it to be.
The transition from a "heroic" ideal of myself, the crusader who helps all of his friends with all of their problems, to a more realistic view of my capabilities and what I can do has been tumultous. But I think I'm getting there.