Who will you suffer for?

Today, I met up with a man that I consider to be one of the kindest people I've ever encountered in my life. He has helped me, and is still helping me, through an interesting period in my life; and for that I will be eternally in debt to this man.*

I met with him today and told him quite honestly, I'm not sure what I'm doing or even where my life is going. I have this education behind me, and now it is my burden to do something with it; both for good and for bad. After four years of ruthless pursuit of education, and countless spontaneous dance sessions, margaritas, football games, and bouts of self confidence, I look at the world through a set of lenses that cause me to both care deeply and question everything around me.

In response to this he said: You and I are the same. We're both weird. Not weird as in something is wrong with us, but weird as in we suffer more than others do. Maybe it's the way we are wired or what has happened in our lives but, we see things differently. And consciously or subconsciously, because of that, we suffer. You think that because you don't know what you want to do with your life it puts you a step behind the rest, when really you're not. We're all in this mess together. We're all just onions and carrots floating around in the broth of life.

This struck a chord with me, mainly because I thought the whole soup analogy was funny, but also because I had never pondered what was at the core of his statement. Do I suffer? And, if so, why? There's always the saying that artists suffer for their art, hence the whole starving artist stereotype, but this theory had never really been presented to me in such a way. Upon further pondering on the notion of suffering I decided that there are, of course, many kinds of suffering; but what causes us to suffer? What causes me to suffer? I guess if I had to pick an overarching theme, I'd say my diagnosis has caused me to suffer greatly. My sanity, self confidence, education, personal safety, relationships, my pride, and even my vanity have all suffered at the hands of my diagnosis. I classify these issues as "big things". These take their toll on me, but aside from the suffering that stems from that particular source, there is also the suffering that I, as well as others, endure on a day to day basis. It is the suffering we endure daily that truly challenges sanity.

The  daily suffering I speak of is knowing you have something to contribute to the world, but have no idea how to do it. The suffering I speak of is seeing injustice but remaining silent out of fear of the consequences of speaking out. The suffering I speak of is seeing something that is culturally or morally wrong, and pointing it out only to be ridiculed for "taking it too seriously".

Suffering.

Maybe there is some truth in that. Maybe I do suffer. I suffer due to the fact that I know I'm sensitive and will try my damnest to hide it in moments where I feel my temper beginning to get the best of me or when my eyes become glazed with the evidence of tears. I suffer when I am in the presence of someone I believe to be ignorant and want nothing more than to unleash verbal bullets upon them. I suffer when I see theater I don't like, but don't want to say everything that was wrong with it out of fear for being labeled pretentious.

However, I suffer the most due to the fact that I am sensitive to those who are ignored. All through high school, and even as a child, I craved nothing more that to simply be heard. So, when I see people who are not being heard and whose wants and needs are being ignored or written off as unimportant, it puts me back in that place and I feel like I am being suffocated and stifled just like them. Maybe that's why I have no tolerance for people or institutions that stand in the way of civil rights and justice. Maybe that's why I voted no of Prop 8.

I especially suffer when I run into someone I used to be romantically involved with only to become painfully aware of how I still feel about that person and how they feel about me. I suffer because I know there will probably never be a moment in time where both of us will be able to put aside our egos, let go of our insecurities, banish self consciousness, and tear down the invisible walls we built around ourselves as a means of protection, and honestly ask each other "what happened?"

I suffer because instead of taking a leap of faith and saying something to that person, I smile politely while I secretly die on the inside. I suffer because I am not as brave as I like to think I am.

A few weeks ago, I came across a quote that struck me in an odd way:

"Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for."
--Bob Marley

My question is, how do you decide who is worth suffering for? And, more importantly, how do you tell someone that you would be willing to suffer for just for them?


*After telling the person I referred to at the beginning of this blog that I had mentioned him in my blog he insisted that he didn't mind if I used his name. The person I speak of is Ken Parker. He is located in Berkeley and I reccomend him to any and everyone. E-mail me if you would like to contact him and gain infinite words of wisdom :