Epiphany: The Worst Kind Of Honesty

Hey there, all...

On a completely unrelated note, I dropped the soap twice in the shower today. Either I'm really fumble-fingered, or I have a subconscious Freudian desire for anal sex.

I have a friend. I will be as vague as possible about this friend, because I would really not like to offend him or make him feel guilty about what I'm about to post. Let's just say that this person is someone who I have daily contact with. We've had a pretty close relationship in the past, but recently we've been drifting apart. This person, along with quite a few other people I know, are making major changes in their lives, so a good deal of time and energy has been devoted to...investigating these changes.

Yesterday, I came to the realization that this person doesn't really think about anyone but himself. It's not a malicious or mean-spirited selfishness, but it's an ingrained, core trait that is a fundamental part of his personality. I realized that he doesn't care about me, or my well-being, well...beyond the superficial level. He doesn't think about me, not unless it's in relation to something that he could gain. It's not that he doesn't like me, or enjoy my company; he simply doesn't care.

As much as I guess I should be hurt or bummed by this sudden...well, perspective shift, it doesn't strike me as depressing at all. In fact, it opened up a much broader shift that explains a lot.

Aren't people tired of these sudden "realizations," anyway? I mean, it seems like that as soon as I open my eyes to something, I put the blinders right back on. Same cycle, same feelings, same mistakes...the sudden epiphanies I get aren't taken and worked into my existence in any way. Soon enough, I always backslide into the same behavior and questions.

I realized that not only does this friend really not care about what makes me tick, most of the people I know don't, either. A lot of people try, or say they do, but their actions prove otherwise.
This behavior is justified in a lot of instances, and in a lot of them it may seem unfair but that doesn't matter: you can't 'fake' kinship, or warmth, or affection for someone without coming off flat.

Most people don't give a rat's ass about my poetry. When I start to talk about anything that excites me at length, eyes glaze over and the best on-line response I get out of people is an "Oh." or "Heh." "Salvation" is something that I'm really excited about, but save for the reactions of two people, most people just brush it off, or ask if it's going to be a fetish-related thing.

Short story ideas meet with disinterest unless they're fetish related. Acting aspirations, singing questions, anything that I care about is met with cool indifference most of the time. It's not that these people are mean, shallow bastards or anything...it's just that I cannot connect with anyone. The people I feel I can be truly, genuinely, completely honest with these days I can count on one hand.

I feel more like a 'commodity' than an 'entity'. The reason people talk to me, or hang out with me at all, is that I have the potential to be an insert into what they're into. I'm more of an audience than a companion. Once people realize that I'm not molded to their specifications, then the rift starts to appear and before I know it we're not as close as we once were.

I'm not going to blame this on other people; I'm not the easiest person to deal with, and my interests really aren't what most people can relate to. I'm not really sure that I can say why things have turned out the way they have. Maybe people *are* only interested in what you can do for them. Maybe people who have tried to connect with me in a genuine manner have been put off by something I've said or done (admittedly, I can be an absolute asshole sometimes). Maybe I lack fundamental relationship skills for some reason. The reasons, in this case, don't matter so much as the sheer fact that the situation exists.

This Journal has become the only thing I feel confidence in as of late. Most of the people that I felt I can confide in otherwise I don't get to see very often, and even then, I'm just not sure what I could say to them any more.

I've lost my empathy because the people that I do see from day to day are generally self-absorbed. More and more, the attitude that I've been taking is "I have to think about myself first, because if I don't who will?" I used to be genuinely affected by other people around me, and worry about them, and care for them, and want to cheer them up. And now...I just don't care. I can't feel any sort of connection or empathy with other people any more. And that, to me, is the absolute *worst* thing I've ever realized.

The reason I like Buddhism and Taoism is because caring is a natural, neutral state of being. The aim is to lose yourself in the ebb and flow of the natural order, where self/individual is meaningless and you realize your role as just part of the greater whole. It's the contradiction of still being an individual with unique perspectives, tastes and preferences and yet still being ultimately connected with the world around you that is the perfect state of being to me. The desire to fix and mend things that aren't right is nothing more than second nature; it's not something that a Buddhist or Taoist has to struggle with. He just does it, no questions asked. Are you too cold? Here, have my blanket. I'll be just fine; the important thing is that *you're* comfortable. That kind of selfless, automatic charity is where people are their most beautiful.

I've been becoming more and more selfish because I've felt I had to be; no one around me is going to look out for me where it matters, so I have to fend for myself. I don't have a shoulder to lean on, and the only time I can bribe someone into doing something for me is when they get something out of it. There's very few people around me who can appreciate the value of being silent in someone's company. The most effective communication and support is often just...being there.

There's not a nice or sparing way to say what I just said to all the people involved, is there? No matter which way I slice it, I'm being an ass. It sounds like I'm saying "You all suck, and I'm dissatisfied with you." But it's *not* what I'm getting at at all. It's just...I am emotionally and affectionately starved. From what I've seen around me for the past few months, there aren't many people who genuinely care for me.

I don't want anyone to feel guilty about this (arrogant of me, isn't it?), or feel slighted, wounded, offended or otherwise put-off by this post. I'm not placing blame or pointing fingers, or ranting against people. A lot of people I've been close to just aren't around because they're dealing with crises of their own, so am I expecting them to drop their situation to pat me on the head? Hardly. I should hope I'm not that far gone yet...

The question remains as to what to do about this. Well, now that I know why I feel the way I do, I can combat the feeling. Are people *really* uncaring, or do I just perceive things in that way because I'm looking for the 'perfect' kind of affection? Why do I need the things I do? What do I need, exactly? What do I do about the people that *will* feel slighted by reading this? I guess I can still untangle that, later.