Illness Inspires Introspection

There are times in everyone’s life where s/he ponders his/her own worth. What is it, exactly, that we’re doing? A great many of us waste awesome quantities of time with trivial pursuits like video games and movies, but does that make our lives any less important? Or does it, in fact, enrich them? The days I’ve spent with friends, lounging on couches or hiking through hills and mountains…are they more or less worthwhile than the time I’ve spent on academic pursuits? Are any of these experiences really of importance?

It would be unsettling to think that our lives are simply a series of meaningless events, yet so few of us are able to explain what the meaning may be. I tend to think that a purpose may be out of reach, but that the very fact that we question such things presents us with worthiness that is, in many ways, incomprehensible. For why else would we be vehicles of creativity and inquisitive thought but to provide life with greatness, gentleness, happiness?

My safe little world took a hit before Christmas when I had to end a relationship that I rather enjoyed but realized was just not healthy. A week later my good friend’s life was hit with a similar mortar shell. Then another friend’s suffered a similar fate just 24 hours later. I gawked a bit at the coincidence of it all. Why should all three of us have our hearts ripped out at nearly the same time? Why was I first?

Truth be told, I loved being first. I fell into my wretched depression; a deep sorrow and funk out of which no one could pull me. Nothing made me smile or laugh. Everything was doom and gloom, horridness, black. But when M’s heart broke I snapped out of it. My time for self-pity had passed. I needed to suck it up and step up to the plate and face my duty. This isn’t to say that it isn’t a pleasure to help my friends; in fact it is quite the opposite. When my friends hurt and turn to me to help them through their pain I feel suddenly wonderful. M needed me to just be there for her. Just “being there” is a skill I’ve perfected over many years.

I always hated it when I would feel down or introspective and someone would continue to hound me to talk about it when I’d already assured them that I did not want to. I made a vow in seventh grade to be someone who could simply listen, absorb, and understand. I practiced with everyone. When someone was in pain and was being pestered I would go up to them and ask if they needed to talk. Usually they would say no, so I would tell them gently that if they just needed to get it out they could come to me. Lo and behold they started to. The secrets that were told to me in moments of the utmost openness were astounding. I learned not to react, but to simply sit and absorb; to respond only when they were ready and to give advice only when it was wanted or, in some cases, needed.

When on New Year’s Eve M called me in complete hysterics I knew that I needed to simply be there. I went over and let her just freak out for a bit; I let her get all dressed up and put on make-up though I knew in my heart we would not be going anywhere special. I made her laugh (a feat, as most know, that is nearly insurmountable when one is utterly distressed), I let her yell, I let her laugh hysterically, but I did not let her put herself down. I matched her shot for shot, had vapid conversations, kissed her on midnight, pulled her home, and joined in on the frantic laughing/crying fit on the hall floor before climbing into her bed. I hugged her when she needed it, I reminded her of what she needed; I let her be when that was necessary. Never did I try to push.

Maybe majoring in psychology wasn’t such a stupid thing for me to do. Sure, I regret not sticking with kinesiology and working with human movement (a subject for which I still harbor great passion), but when it comes down to it maybe I’ve been honing my psychological skills for years to make myself the kind of friend I always wanted. Though I don’t think my calling is to be a psychologist, I cannot doubt that learning the art of understanding and listening has been most valuable. When I think on the moments when I feel the happiest, the most purposeful, it is when I am helping the people for whom I care the most. Maybe that is my purpose…