Helpful

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June 7th, 2023

I cannot help everyone—even, or especially those close to me. And it bothers me a lot and pains me quite severely. It is difficult for me to accept the fact that someone I deeply care about lives in mental and emotional discomfort. And yet, after careful analysis of the issues and circumstances, I know that there is nothing on my side that can be done to help — I don't have the time or resources or knowhow or ability or emotional stability to provide immediate relief or present a way of working with, or around the problem. So, while my life is going basically smoothly and swimmingly, for others it is just the opposite — anguish and unspoken grief and seeing no way out is their daily toil. And me — standing to the side with a stupid grin and empty platitudes. And with an evergrowing dislike of the situation and doing exactly nothing to alleviate it — for both sides.

And it is very easy for me to adjust my mental and emotional state to those around me — like a chameleon, I change myself and my moods to fit exactly within my surroundings without so much as a sliver of personality shoving and become bitter and helpless and despondent. And all that is just for the show — as soon as I am by myself I am able quite quickly to turn around and go back to being detached myself I know and like. Only a bitter taste remains of knowing the truth about the difficult situations of others and my inability to provide meaningful help. Even lending an ear to listen and a shoulder to lean on seems beyond my ability to care.

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footsteps of the Furies

“for they knew what sort of noise it was; they recognize, by now, the footsteps of the Furies”. Enjoying life on the road to recovery. Observing and writing.