It doesn’t take much, does it? A couple of words saying “this isn’t directed at you” that attacks my methods of coping with the world, and *bang* That’s it. Indecision and questioning and that little black raincloud like the that was made of Winnie The Pooh when he wanted to get the honey, hovers over me, and I don’t have my umbrella to stand under him saying “tut, tut, it looks like rain…” Nothing to be done but wait out the rain, and when it’s done I’ll have forgotten it all over again… or not. I don’t forget much.
To be honest, I’m satisfied with my methods of coping with life in general now, compared to what it used to be. Okay, so I’m not an activist trying to save the world, or whatever. But I’m also not hurting anyone. I do my damndest not to hurt people and animals. That’s the last thing on the world that I want to do. I can’t say I’ve always succeeded, because sometimes doing what’s best for me has hurt people, and sometimes I’ve done it inadvertently, and (rarely) I’ve just been mean.
I had a friend once who told me that, and it set me on the right track for taking care of myself. He once said to me, “There’s nothing really wrong with JennyLee. You don’t hurt people.” And somehow that hit home… at that point, I had thought that everything was wrong with me. But really, there isn’t. I’m flawed like everyone else, but flawed isn’t wrong. And being told that I’m selfish or short-sighted or depressive just gives me an opportunity to take that step backwards again, into thinking that there is something wrong with me. I can’t think in generalities like save the world, save the whales, help the victims of famine and war… I want to help individuals… I want to see that I can make a difference, and know that I am having an impact on just one person. I want to save the world, but I want to do it one person at a time.
Is that wrong?