Saturday, May 21, 2016

The heavy burden

I'm willing to bet that most people find me to be an upbeat person.

I love my friends openly, even if/when I don't agree with their life choices.

I try to make others happy.

I do "random acts of kindness" like straightening the shopping cart corral in the parking lot, wiping down the public bathroom counters/pick up trash and dispose of it properly. I smile and wave at random strangers to get them to smile.

I try to put on a good face most of the time and try to leave behind any place better than I found it (boy scout mindset kind of).

Despite all of these things, I am a very unhappy person.

I'm very pessimistic, judgemental, bitter, and angry.

I often participate in my "random acts of kindness" because I think and feel that other people just don't care.

I get frustrated when I see shopping carts not properly corralled, thinking that whomever left it "there" doesn't give a crap about being nice to others or value the time/effort it takes for the store employee to wrangle it later.
I feel angry that the bathroom counter/floor are soaked/covered in random bits and pieces of paper towels/toilet paper. I commonly think and believe that people leave it this way because they feel it is below them to clean it up even if they caused a part of it. I commonly think that these person's respect and care of public facilities mirrors their respect and care for other people in the world.
I think and feel that everyone else passing the stranger by, and choosing to not notice them, even subconsciously, is a declaration of their love for their fellow man (or rather, their lack thereof).

I'm judgemental of my children for constant disobedience even though I've been taught that what they are doing is typical boundary pushing/normal behavior for children their age. I often feel that my children don't respect my rules/authority because it is not commonly taught/expected by others to do so. This angers me, and is a constant pulse of doubt about my worth/influence as a mother.

I commonly feel bitter when something I've told another person gets forgotten.
I've noticed over the years that I tell people less and less things. When I do speak up, I am typically very deliberate in what I say, and how I say it. When these things are not remembered/retained and I later mention it to continue the conversation, or accomplish something beyond the subject, I am disheartened. It makes me feel/believe that what I think/say/feel/do is of little to no value to the other person. It is a very isolating emotion. It often results in me never mentioning it again as it feels pointless to do so.

I feel discouraged when I see anything that I have done/cleaned/improved/worked on gets destroyed/soiled/disorganized/forgotten about. This happens even from my own doing: unfinished projects, laundry, accidentally broken items, etc.
When I perceive that I am the cause of my own discouragement it makes me doubt myself, and others, even more greatly. I feel in those moments that I believe, even more so, that progression is not likely/possible and that positive change in others is a pointless pursuit.

I have very little hope.

My counselor suggested that I make a "hope box" full of little pieces of paper with things written on them that I am looking forward to/hopeful about that have a realistic possibility of happening/can be influenced by me. Things that I can feel joyful about.
I was given that assignment over a month ago. I've only been able to come up with 3 things. Each has a possibility of being joyful. However, each comes with a realistic possibility of being stressful and unachievable.
Those possibilities terrify me.
It hasn't provided much hope.

Despite my inner thoughts and emotions, and the general tumult and anxiety they cause me, I put on a good face to most of the world.
I offer help to others. I counsel/talk to my friends as time allows me to (so long as my emotions aren't controlling my rationality or ability to be kind/uplifting toward them). I go to church. I cook. I clean. I hug my girls. I try to establish a normal/healthy pattern of living.

My compromised perspective is that I fail most of the time.

This is my heavy burden.

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