I can cry all I want. I can lay down on my bed and go into endless rants, endless yelling, endless arguments of what should’ve been or what I should’ve done differently, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.
Life’s tough.
There are no easy solutions. There isn’t really even a solution sometimes at all.
Outsiders don’t understand (that sounds like the teen angst I’d write all the time on my Xanga in high school).
They can hear all the words you say, they can read the words you write and all of it will fall silent on them.
I have written a long time ago about what it is to empathize, and whether we can truly relate to others.
And I still stand by that when it comes down to it, we can’t.
Everyone’s experiences are unique. A person can feel like they can relate, and there are degrees to how much closer one person can get to feeling the same way as the other person, but the sum total of experiences, the emotions, the separate, unique encounters and day to day happenings leaves us further apart than we think.
Sometimes all you can do or say is that you “feel sorry” for the other person. What does that even mean?
I think about my problems. I think about all the jokes about “1st world problems.”
I love those jokes.
But everyone’s problems are unique and personal, and we often fall victim to diminishing the significance of someone else’s problems on account of trying to compare it to others.
But everything is relative. It’s all relative. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.
Well, one man’s feelings and sorrow is another man’s I don’t fuckin’ know, inconvenience and annoyance. Or apathy.
Doesn’t matter the nature and/or details of the problem. It matters on the impact of the problem on the person, the severity, and how or whether it can be remedied.
I think what bothers me the most is when someone thinks it’s funny to laugh at someone’s problems even after knowing how much it means to them. Humor can get people through a lot of things, but when someone makes light of the shit they themselves aren’t even close to dealing with, well to that, I’d say,
Fuck you, you insensitive, immature prick.
Long distance relationships are a piece of shit.
Long distance relationships while you’re at med school are even worse.
When you get into a fight, when the other person feels like shit, you can’t wrap your arms around that person and console them. All of that physical contact, all of the unspoken emotion and love and care that can so easily be transmitted via the warm touch of someone else is gone.
Everything ends up being communicated through words, through IM text, through audio and video on a 2-D computer screen. It’s not the same. It’s like trying to filter your emotions into some other medium, trying to grind and emulate and strain it into the only form of communication you have — a fuckin’ computer.
Can you imagine doing that for half a year nonstop?
And then to hear someone laugh about it when they have all the luxuries of seeing that other person daily, they don’t even realize any of it, they don’t even try to empathize.
Facebook is not the place to vent. I continually find myself turned off by how impersonal it really is, how all it is just a public space to show how happy and normal everyone seems to be. It’s to look and speak and ask for attention and social acceptance.
It’s to be “liked.”
There is no “dislike” button because no one likes to read about another person’s misery - in fact, most of everyone’s facebook friends probably don’t give a shit about their problems. Everyone is so quick to comment or enjoy pictures of food, photoshopped-up-the-ass profile pictures, pictures of puppies and babies and booze and drunken revelry and other brotastic moments and status updates.
I was wrong to share something that personal on there. I wanted to vent to someone, anyone. I thought that “friends” would be more understanding than a random schmuck out there.
But facebook is all just a big ‘ol circle jerk of insensitivity.
Whatevs.
