Pity Party For One

Some people don't know or don't care how much hell you've been through. They don't have the ability to feel compassion or the emotional intelligence to sympathize. That's ok. Everyone is different and that's what makes the world diverse and interesting. However, for those of us who have been to hell and returned with whatever scraps of ourselves are leftover, we don't appreciate those unfeeling souls who lack depth, understanding, and compassion. As an empath and a survivor of hell, I know that I definitely don't like being around those people. It takes a lot of emotional strength to survive some of the tragedies that life dishes out, but it takes even more love to love someone who has survived it.

We are not easy to love because we are not soft and fuzzy like a delicious peach. We are hard and sometimes rough like that rock you stepped on and didn't even notice. Can you love a rock? Maybe. But I'd bet you'd choose the peach over the rock, even though the rock will last much much longer.

Today I've experienced some emotional highs and lows. On one hand, someone kind and generous helped me with my car tires and that made me feel loved and cherished and valued. On the other hand, some strangers at the plasma donation center were rude and disrespectful to me instigating the recipricol behavior from me until I finally had to walk out without having made a donation of plasma. Then I had to go back home and eat chocolate to calm my nerves and get myself back to the me I was before the disrespect occurred. A waste of time and gas for me when I was only hoping to donate the plasma and leave with the $100 reward for doing so. This is what happens when a rock and disrespect come together. This is what they mean by "a rock and a hard spot".

This exposition is not about cliches or symbolism. I am writing out the notes to the violin song that I've been playing for the past six years. This way instead of trying to defend or explain myself to complete strangers, I can simply send them a link through my middle finger. Maybe you don't like pity parties or sad songs, and let me just mirror your noncompassion: I don't care.

What really has my goat today inspiring this pity party expository piece of writing is a comment I read about opportunity. Strange how such a neutral word like opportunity can be so upsetting to me. But it is. Why? Have you ever heard the phrase: "Equal Opportunity"? How about the word "discrimination"? I bet you think that only applies to black people. I'm so tired of being in the white minority who has to continually educate the superior privileged white people and the arrogant entitled black people. I"m sick of both races because they always forget about me, the white woman who has been treated like roadkill while they continue their charades.

Instead of offering compassion, assistance, or a real permanent solution, cold hearted people simply offer snide comments and ignorant remarks. Problem: I can't pay back my student loan. Them: Well, that's your own fault for not having a good job. Problem: I don't know how to fix my car. Them: Well, that's your own fault for not becoming a mechanic. Problem: I can't have anymore babies. Them: Well, that's your own fault for living past menopause. Problem: I can't find a good job. Them: Well, that's your own fault for not trying hard enough. Problem: I can't afford the rent. Them: Well, that's your own fault for not budgeting correctly. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Not only do these people score a zero on the EQ chart, those are not the reasons for the problems. They completely dodge the truth and instead try to bury the poor soul with a problem instead of offering some compassion if they don't have a solution.

For example: Problem: I can't pay back my student loan. Empath: I know how you feel. We are not alone. It's a shame the country doesn't care about this epidemic. Problem: I don't know how to fix my car. Empath: Most drivers are not mechanics. Don't worry. Something will come up to help. Problem: I can't have anymore babies. Empath: You've done enough and you are worthy of love regardless if you can have another baby or not. Problem: I can't find a good job. Empath: It's not your fault. I know how many applications you've filled out. The government is lying when they say unemployment is down. If that were true, there wouldn't be welfare, and food banks, and homeless shelter waiting lists, and plasma donation centers. Maybe we can get a job at a storage rental facility. Problem: I can't afford the rent. Empath: Of course not. It's designed that way. Society has created an impossible system forcing people to be roommates so that we exhaust all our patience and goodwill at home with people we depend on and are less inclined to go out and mingle.

That's just the tip of the iceburg. There's a lot more to the violin song. How about this? I can't turn on the news without them talking about politics, but I don't feel like any of them actually represent me. Oh bummer. I can't watch anything but sports with my boyfriend because everything he likes to watch includes murder, mayhem, and terrible violence. Oh bummer. I can't adopt a cat or a dog for the same reason I couldn't keep my own child - because I don't own my own home. So if you can't afford the rent and your technically homeless, you better be ProChoice and anti-pet. Oh bummer. I spent a fortune on technology the past 30 years and I can't even take a remote job because the technology that I have at present is already outdated and not good enough. Oh bummer.

What was that word that upset me again? Oh yeah, opportunity. Opportunity? For what? A pity party among people who dismiss your pain and losses as if they were insignificant? Opportunity for what? To try and try and try over numerous odds stacked against you only to reap a whole lot of nothing except a middle finger? Opportunity? Equal opportunity? Please, don't make me laugh - I'm trying to stay high on the EQ scale.