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Saturday, 9 February 2008

Unhealthy Dose of Sensitivity

I prided myself for being sensitive; people come to me for advice or at least, a listening ear for their worries and concerns. I learnt to accept that I have this trait, and that I just simply can't help it. How could you tell a crying baby to stop crying? I can try being more reserved, I can try changing my behavior, but not how I feel, for heart is running on its own, it's fueled not by energy or something we can control. It's automatic, involuntary. We may deny, pretend we don't feel certain emotions, and nobody would have to know at all, but we ourselves feel it. And it's up to us how we would like to act upon it.

I have always thought that being sensitive is a good thing. I take people's feelings into consideration, because it is important to me. Even if I don't agree to things that my friends did, I would not blatantly tell them they're wrong. And maybe this is where my flaw lies, for I'm simply way too emotional. To the people I care about, my will to guard their feelings is far more crucial than proving them I'm right.

In this sense, I started to realize that my oversensitiveness possibly just bring more harm than good. Because just about how many persons out there who would protect my feelings too? So why do I even bother, why do I have to go all these troubles to give the best that I can when the only thing left for me is dissapointment?

I don't have to know a person for years to feel this way. Even to new friends, I feel attached easily, and when they choose to share their problems with me, then that becomes my burden too. But we're not talking about just friends here, because my friends never made me feel bad. It's like, sensitiviness is just a part of me and that's it.

But there are bound to be people whom you can't just treat as 'just platonic friends'. It's not that they make me feel bad, or as if I'm not good enough, but wIth them sometimes I wish I'm far less-emotional. I wish I could have that 'the hell with them' attitude, I wish I could be more indifferent and tough. Instead, I'm acting like a woman.

They probably don't even mean what I thought they meant, but being myself, I tend to jump into conclusions. They probably don't even realize they're doing things that upset me, but again, I'm already making an assumption. But despite all that, I have my own reasons to think that way, it's not as if suddenly I just launch into this crazy paranoid bitch. Most of the time I'm right but there are times when I should just back off, you know. I'm just emotional. (I made it sound like it's a disease - "I have STD" or "I'm compusilve disorder", "I'm emotional".)

I can pretend that I don't give a shit, but I'm not kidding anyone but myself. Little gestures triggered me, little signs irked me. Other normal homo sapiens probably wouldn't even notice 'em, but of course, I'm far from normal. I'm a rare species functioned like a human being but with a paranoid and a magnifying-eye for details.

I think my life would be much happier if I get to be a lot more nonchalant. I would not get hurt and I can be truly certain that those who managed to stay close for long, will definitely stay. You know? Cos they've gone through all the shits just to win your trust, and not the other way around with me for I believe the best in people. It might seem like a noble thing - believing the best in people, but that only applies if everyone in this planet is a decent human being. But people lie all the time. If you trust a lying jerk, you have noone else to blame but yourself in the end.

The thing about being too emotional is you get worried over nothing. You want to believe what you want to believe. You start seeing everything in amplifying light. You want to shrug things off but you simply can't.

I don't even know what I'm talking about, to be honest. I don't think I'm making any sense. This is me rambling again. Or you may call it, being emotional. Ha! Forget it.

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Quotes

There's a hundred million different ways of writing, and it takes you a long time to sort through that stuff. And I think it takes anyone a long time to find a voice.

You must learn to take the good with the bad, the happy with the sad, love what you’ve got and remember what you had. Learn to forgive, but never forget, learn from your mistakes but never regret. People change and things go wrong, but you just have to remember that life goes on.

The day before I’m supposed to be meeting Caroline for a drink, I develop all the textbook symptoms of a crush: nervous stomach, long periods spent daydreaming, an inability to remember what she looks like. I can bring back the dress and the boots, and I can see her bangs, but her face is a blank.

I don't know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know, that's what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I'll just be glad when something nice happens.

I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and... I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing, keep my options open. And that's suicide. By tiny, tiny increments.

There's a big fucking world out there. It's messy, and it's chaotic, and it's never, never ever the thing you'd expect. It is ok to be scared, but you cannot allow your fears to turn you into an asshole, not when it comes to the people that love you, the people that need you.

Maybe what I'm saying is, is the world might be evolving the way a person evolves. Right? Like, I mean, me for example. Am I getting worse? Am I improving? I don't know. When I was younger, I was healthier, but I was, uh, whacked with insecurity, you know? Now I'm older and my problems are deeper, but I'm more equipped to handle them.

I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.

Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.

A woman needs to be held, even, and science has shown this, if its with someone she doesn't care about. Protective hormones are released, and the amount of hormones released depends on the degree to which she is held. The first and best is the complete surround. He wraps you in both arms, whispers how beautiful you are. Second best is the 'arm around.' He is next to you but with one arm around you. Third is he's just next to you on his elbow, but he rests his hand on your stomach and looks at you. Fourth is you snuggling up to him with your head on his chest, while he looks away into space. But when the first best happens, you feel completely, wonderfully like a woman.

So, so what, so fuck off, go home, leave you alone? I'll tell you something Paul, there isn't anything that I've wanted for eighteen years, cause I was a kid eighteen years ago. And if I did still want the same things I'd think I'd gone wrong somewhere, because actually I don't want to marry David Cassidy, I don't want bigger tits, I don't want to do better on my marks. I've stopped worrying about that kind of thing and maybe you should try.

Well maybe there's a big bit of you that's gone missing somewhere, maybe everyone should want something they've always wanted.

Why is it that adults aren't supposed to go mad about anything? You gotta keep a lid on it. And if you don't then people are apparently entitled to say what they like. "You haven't grown up. You're a moron. Your conversation is trivial and boorish. You can't express your emotional needs. You can't relate to your children." And you die, lonely and miserable. But you know, what the hell, every cloud has a silver lining.

I just woke up one morning and didn't feel the same way. Where did it go? It was like there had been a lot of food on a plate in front of us, and we ate it all really quickly, and then there was nothing left. Maybe that's how couples stay together: they're not greedy. They know that what they have in front of them has to last a long time, so they kind of pick at it. I hope it's not like that, though. I hope that when people are happy together, it feels as though someone keeps piling seconds and thirds on their plates.

That is what I have learned: Sex is destructive. Love is nothing to be fooled with. I learned that I was dangerous, not to be trusted. I wondered if my parents were right, with all of their stiff lovelessness. Maybe they knew better. My parents don't dole out love for the deserving or the undeserving. I was learning that love could cost me.

You could say all you liked about reason and logic and common sense and imagination, but when the chips were down, the one skill you needed was the ability to think about absolutely nothing whatsoever.

There is a comfort in never making an effort, but it's a lonely comfort. What keeps you going is the knowledge that you're only playing with only four cards showing. But when you see other people succeeding with their mediocre hands, you have to make a decision. If you turn over that final card you're certain of victory, but it also means you have nothing in reserve.

I’d gone through life believing in the strength and competence of others; never in my own. Now, dazzled, I discovered that my capacities were real. It was like finding a fortune in the lining of an old coat.

Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as mere consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.