(N) The exertion of force by one's body on the surface of another
Sometimes you can see it on someone's face. Perhaps in the way they are behaving or the emptiness that rings in their speech.
You can tell when someone's mind is under pressure- warped and twisted, bent and breaking. The signs are not always clear but they can feel it. That tightening in the chest, the hollowed out feeling whenever they breath. Something pressing down on them so hard they could snap under it if they just gave it to the all bearing weight of it all.
People lose loved ones in this life. Money problems are rampant in today's society. Careers are put on hold in favor of jobs that will actually pay the bills. We are always at one point in another in our life under pressure.
So, why do we in turn place pressure on others in our lives?
As a guilty party, I can only say it is from sort of inner selfishness- some corrupted idea that you know everything when you will in fact admit you know nothing. A desperate attempt to help alleviate the pressure they are suffering under which in all events usually ends up (unless you a saint or guru of some kind) in only furthering pressuring the person you had meant to help.
Parents do it. Friends do it. Lovers do it.
We all do it.
I deal in ultimatums. Black and whites. Good and evil Right and wrong.
Over the past year and a half, I've gained friends, lost friends, and lived under the same roof as my family as an adult. I stared down my nose at my parent's mistakes- glaringly obvious to me while ignoring the things that they have given up or put aside so that I could sit there with a college education and wonder disparagingly what I am doing with my life. I sat quietly and waited for a friend to realize I had made a simple slip of the tongue error- was guilt wracked over it and unable to voice anything more than utter horror and remorse. No one answered my pleas for forgiveness. I stood at a job I literally hated and shook my head as people told me how good I was at it and how interesting it must be.
And I decided one day- enough was enough. I packed my things, moved back to the city I wanted to be in. And that was that.
Good vs. Bad. Right vs. Wrong. Brave vs. Scared
I am proud of this decision. I still stand by it being one of the best I made but as the days slip by. I sometimes feel like my return set in motion things beyond my control. The idealistic life that I had left behind obviously had continued in my absence and yet months after my return- things began to advance, deteriorate, and shift. And as I stood and watched it happen, I dealt with it the only way I could.
That's right- either this or that. Too proud maybe. But more unsure and in need of a black or white, cookie cut answer. Well, that's what I thought I needed from the various unknown shifts in my life.
What I really needed was to trust in myself and in those around me.
And as much as I want to fix things- you can't. You can't fix what's not broken and you can't fix things that are in flux. You have to just stand back and wait.
And yes, I'm highly aware that even right now, as I type this- if it were to happen again, I'd be struggling with myself not to rush in and make it right. That's me- a bulldozing fixer who usually only breaks things in the attempt to heal. (Gives me a whole new respect for the bull in the china shop- maybe he just wanted to get his mother a nice tea set.)
(Fine- it was an idiotic joke but comeon)
And as much as I would like to pick up the phone, drive over to their house, and in other ways seriously badger the people who I miss most and who have pushed me away for whatever reasons- I have to understand that they are under pressure. My strong arm attempts to win them back are only going to end up further alienating them. I have over the course of the past few months tried to restrain myself from trying to fix, understand, or label anything in my life.
Some days I can wake up and enjoy the day for what it is- go to work, feel accomplished, come home and spend quality time with friends. Other days i walk around in a certain fog- under my own pressure, weighted down by memories, hopes, and their following shadows- doubts.
So, I shake my head, mumble some words under my breath to myself (never very nice words, I'm afraid) and try to get on with whatever I was doing.
It all comes back to pressure.
I'm lucky enough to belong to a group who sits back and lets me deal with it my own way-and time will help me learn how to deal with my pressure accordingly. As I sometimes repeat to myself, "I'm healthy, finacially secure, surrounded by friends and family who love me for who I am, and have a terrific head of hair."
Okay- no, I don't say that last part. I just wanted to see how you would respond. Hopefully you though it was witty and not some terribly obvious ploy to pat myself on the back. Now, if I wanted to go into good features-
Kidding.
But I get to deal with the guilt and unhappiness that comes from not alleviating the pressure of those I care about most but only adding to it. And as much as I would like to sit down, wrap my arms around them and tell them how truly sorry I am for everything that I've done through accident or self ignorance- I could only hope they would realize that in all my attempts, all my failures and successes- I've only wanted to help alleviate their burden.
Never add to it.
No comments:
Post a Comment