I did a performance a long time ago in which I said the phrase, “My bowl of empathy (or compassion) is empty”, and I really like it as a way to explain that I do not have any fucks to give right now. That sounds more defiant than I mean it to be, though, because it’s more of a, “I’m feeling so low, I can’t extend myself to others.”
I tend to automatically think of others before I think of myself. It’s not innate, but it was drummed into me when I was a kid that my feelings don’t matter and that I had to cater to the feelings of others, especially my parents. It’s second nature to me by now, and I know I’m at the end of my rope when I’m impatient rather than empathetic. That’s when I have to pull back and replenish my inner resources. At least I’m cognizant of when that is happening.
The problem is, I’m feeling it more and more these days. A large part of it is our political situation and the helplessness I feel about it. Part of it is a depression that came over me a few weeks ago, and I don’t know why. Either way, I’m having a hard time extending myself, and it’s making me uncomfortable.
I will say that it’s not necessarily a bad thing to think of myself rather than others, but it’s makes me feel bad when I can’t be empathetic or compassionate. Intellectually, I know
I’m a heavy user of social media, at least two of the venues–Twitter and Facebook. I get most of my news from Twitter, which is how I found out about the Manchester bombing this morning. (Tuesday morning). I read up on it, and it broke my heart. All those excited young girls going to the concert of their life (Ariana Grande), only to be terrified and traumatized, and many of them killed. At last count, 22 dead and 59 injured, and I have no doubt the numbers are going to rise. It was a suicide bombing by an Islamic fanatic, and we have to address the elephant in the room. I’ll get to that in a minute, though.
I check my social media right after I wake up, and I’m realizing that’s not the best thing to do for my mental health. I mean, I’ve known it for a while, but it’s really hitting home, especially since this administration has taken over. I’m already a pessimistic person with a negative view on life. The last thing I need is a steady diet of all the things wrong in the world the minute I wake up.
It’s a tricky thing because I believe you should be informed about current events in order to be a productive member of society. However, it doesn’t help to drown yourself in all the negative news, and I don’t know where that line is drawn. The problem for me is that I feel the news as if it’s happened personally to me, and while I’ve worked on erecting a wall between me and other people’s feelings so it’s not as bad as it used to be, I can still feel the pain as if it were my own.
This brings me to one of my pet peeves on social media–pictures/stories of abused children and animals. I know some people believe you have to make people see the ugliness in the world, but I don’t need to see it to feel it. I especially don’t need to see the same picture of a dead kid/animal over and over again on Twitter. It hurts me every time I see it until I eventually am numb, and I don’t think that’s the end result people are looking for. It’s the same as Sarah McLachlan’s SPCA commercials–they just make me feel shitty and helpless because I can’t save all the animals.
The brain isn’t designed to deal with repeated negativity that isn’t able to fixed. At least mine isn’t. It just makes me depressed and feel hopeless about the world in general. I know I have to curb my social media intake, and I’ve been doing it incrementally over the past year or so. We’ll see if I can keep on keeping on.
I’m tired. I’m grumpy. I’m still recovering from the crud. I’m sad. Here’s a Maru & Hana video.
(I remember what I said earlier, but I don’t feel like tackling it right now. Maybe in another post.)
Hello, everyone. I am happy to say that I am on my way to recovery, finally. It’s slow, and it’s agonizing, and it still feels as if aliens are chewing on my face (but less nosily), and I’m still exhausted, but at least I can walk to the bathroom without wanting to collapse in a heap.
I also found out that I’m still a tad hyperactive, so it wasn’t my lowered thyroid meds dose that has been the problem. It probably hasn’t helped since being hyper has its own problems, but it’s not the reason I’ve been feeling this shitty. I will say that I think going to the clinic to get my blood drawn is what exposed me to whatever I’m dealing with, just as I contracted my first round of the flu after visiting my doctor in…January I think it was.
I was planning on going back to the doctor this week, but then I slowly started getting better, and I decided it wasn’t necessary. Right or wrong, I now associate going to the doctor with getting sick. If I do have a sinus infection, however, I probably will have to go back and get antibiotics. I’m giving it a few more days before making that decision.
This is the sickest I’ve been in a long time, and it’s a reminder that I have a shitty immune system. Even though I’m better, I’m still a long way from fully recovered. I haven’t been doing the Sword Form in my morning routine nor my weight sets, and I’m still not ready to do that yet. I haven’t been to taiji in weeks. I plan on going tomorrow (today by the time you read this), but I need to take it extremely easy.
I hope to get back to writing posts soon, but for now, you’ll have to settle for Maru with a toy in his mouth kneading a pillow. His sister, Hana, is snoozing on the rug in the first part of the video. I love the serious look on his face as he makes biscuits. Enjoy!
Last night, I was lying on the couch, and I felt my flu ‘break’. I had a moment of relief before the crud* fill my nose and my throat. Before, I mostly felt exhausted, alternated between chills and hot flashes, and had absolutely no energy. I also had headaches and no appetite. I dealt with it by resting as much as I could and drinking all the honey ginger lemon tea I could stand. It was horrible to wake up feeling enervated. I considered it an accomplishment to make it to the bathroom without staggering.
When the flu broke last night, I was relieved. It’d been over a week, and I felt it was about goddamn time. Then, not a minute later, my nose started to fill with snot, and my throat got clogged. I knew immediately that a cold, like a silent assassin waiting in the wings, had set upon me just as my flu left. Needless to say, I am not happy. I’m tired, stuffed up, and coughing sporadically.
I had planned on writing a long screed on what is currently happening in this mockery we call democracy, but I’m just not up to it. I will do it tomorrow as I have a hunch the travesty will still be happening–along with the protests. I skipped my last two taiji classes as well as four in two weeks (total). It’s frustrating to have absolutely no energy, no matter how much or how little sleep I get.
I’m down. I’m depressed. I’m watching another season of The Great British Bake Off (and, yes, there’s another waif-like type of whom I feel VERY protective).
Here are two of my favorite things–Maru and snow. Two videos of him in the fluffy white stuff. In the first, he’s wearing a darling blue raincoat. It’s so cute. In the second, he slides in a sled, and it’s even cuter.
Still feeling squidgy and squicky. Oh, sorry! I’ve been binge-watching the Great British Bake Off and just finished the first season, so I still have my British slang on. I really like the show for several reasons. One, I love baking shows. I used to bake now and again, and it’s much more pleasing to me than cooking is. Two, scrumptious desserts. Enough said. Three, there’s none of the American machismo and grandiosity of, “I’m going to win, shove it in your ear!!” Yes, it’s still a reality show and scripted in a way, but it’s more laid-back than American reality cooking shows. There’s no faux-ginning up of the tension or false bravado. In fact, it’s quite endearing that the competitors were all rooting each other on*, and they were genuinely distraught when it came time to cut a contestant. Also, none of the contestants will actually say they think they’ll win. The closest they’ll come is, “I quite think I might have a chance.” I had fun trying to figure out who would be cut at the end of each episode, and I was usually right. The tells aren’t as obvious as they are in, say, Chopped, but I’m catching on to the British way of doing things.
The one thing I really didn’t like, though, happened in the final episode. There are three contestants (seven have already gone home), and they have one round as a semifinals before one is cut. Paul Hollywood is a master baker and one of the judge. Mary Berry is a baker and a food writer–called the Queen of Cakes–is the other judge. In the final episode, Paul was very dismissive of one of the women for choosing cupcakes as her mini-cakes (for a special tea). He called it childish even before she made them. Then, when she presented her cupcakes, he was still adamant they weren’t for an adult tea, even though he admitted they tasted fantastic. He also didn’t like the decoration of the other woman’s mini-cakes, calling them too girly. It was very off-putting, and it was even worse when he and Mary were discussing who should be cut. It was very evident that he wanted to cut Miranda (cupcake woman), whereas it was equally obvious that Mary wanted to keep Miranda. The minute I heard Paul’s critique, I knew Miranda would be cut.** When she was, I was irritated. It’s not that I thought the other woman or the man should have been cut, but just that Paul’s bias was so clear and that I knew he would get his way in the end.
Anyway! It’s still an addictive show, and I find myself watching episode after episode while sipping my tea and resting my tired body. I’m frustrated that I can’t kick this flu or cold or whatever it is. It’s been almost a week, and I had hoped it’d be done by now. Here’s a video of Maru getting into things. I love this cat.
*At least in the first season. I’m on the first episode of the second season, and they’ve expanded the contestant pool, so we’ll see.
**It was between Miranda and the other woman. The man was clearly safe.