~Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country
I'm a longtime Vonnegut fan. I discovered his books, thanks to an ex-boyfriend, in university and I devoured them, including when I was abroad for a semester but found one in an English-Language bookstore.
There was something about Vonnegut's grizzled optimism, his resigned hope that saw the world clearly but never descended to cynicism. In spite of all evidence, he still seemed to believe that humans were redeemable. Not all of us but a good many.
He also believed absolutely in humour as a balm, a way of navigating so much darkness.
Vonnegut's words got me through a lot of young adult angst and they continue to guide me. So I wasn't surprised to stumble across the words above on a blog about artists and the importance of steering clear of cynicism.
Let me make clear that I know it's not easy.
When so many of us have repeatedly been let down by those we trusted with our hearts, cynicism can feel like armour. If we expect the worst, well, we won't be disappointed when that's exactly what we get. If we think we can't trust anybody, then we won't be surprised when people reveal themselves untrustworthy.
But I think we're fooling ourselves if we think that anticipating bad things will somehow diminish the pain when they happen. Hurt is hurt. All we've really done is rob ourselves of any pleasure we might have had before the pain.
I concluded in my late teens that good things weren't for me. My mother's addiction, my father's neediness, my friends' cruelty, my boyfriends' betrayals. I wore cynicism like a shield, thinking myself worldly and tough.
I was neither. I was wounded. Cynicism didn't protect me from a damn thing, it only prevented me from seeking better. If we anticipate disloyalty, we won't demand more. If we anticipate unkindness or thoughtlessness or cruelty, we won't walk away from it.
Cynicism is little more than resignation in disguise.
And none of us should ever resign ourselves to less than we deserve.
The antidote to cynicism? Vonnegut gives it to us. Pay attention to kindness in our lives. Notice thoughtfulness. Seek out moments of pleasure. Any longtime readers of this site know my love of simple delights -- a walk in the woods. A romp with a dog. A purring cat on your lap. A good book with a warm tea. A laugh with a friend.
I've said it before...those slivers of joy lit my way forward. Until I could allow myself to anticipate better, I felt stuck in pain.
Seek out those moments of "better" and share them here. Whether or not you say out loud, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is", I hope you'll think it. And tell us about it. Your spark just might ignite another's.
I'm really trying to move on... is it possible not to think about it for a day at least? I cover my sorrow in humor not because I want to be happy, but because I am convinced nobody cares about my pain and the person I thought was my best friend was the one who hurt me the most. I feel lonely and depress and hiding from all that behind a mask of laughter.
ReplyDeleteAnonymous,
DeleteI'm so so sorry for the pain you're in. I'm not a therapist (I just play one on the internet 😉) but I think it's crucial to your healing to have a safe place where you can process all this pain. Pretending is something of a dishonour to your own experience. It's minimizing it, which is disrespectful to yourself. You deserve to be able to be honest about what you're feeling. You do not need to pretend. And if you're pretending because he won't/can't support you in your pain, then that's another problem that's HIS, not yours. It's not your job to make those around you comfortable. It's your job to treat yourself with respect and dignity and kindness.
I admire your resilience. I really do. And that humour has likely protected you from a lot over the years. But there comes a time when you need to take that mask off. To be honest about who you are so that when your humour returns, and it will, it's genuine. It's about joy, not masking pain.
Do you have a good friend you can talk to? If you don't have a therapist, I would really really urge you to get one. You need a safe space, Anonymous. And please, share your story here, if you haven't already. Talk to us. You'll find a supportive group of women who, even if they don't reply (and lots just sit and cry and nod at their keyboards) know your pain. You'll be articulating their experience too. And it's really important to put words to how we're feeling. That's how we find our way out of this.
a couple of moments come to mind. I was deep in that horrible place just post d-day and I was panicked and not sure how I was going to survive and feeling like I was going to burst into tears every time I went out in public.
ReplyDelete1. I had saved up to get some pieces of art framed. I was terrified about money, but on some gut level I also knew I had to start treating myself life I had value. So I went with my two special art pieces to a local frame shop. the owner was so nice. I explained my budget and we looked at things that fit that but he kept looking at mats and things I just couldn't do, not pushy, just sort of "its a shame we cant do those, would look so pretty". and then I turned around and got totally triggered by a nude oil painting high up on a wall in the shop. Many of you will understand why. Anything about naked bodies would set me off then, art or no art. And this was a young woman seated and in profile, and her turned head (plus the fact that she was naked) reminded me of the OW social media profile pic. I lost it and started crying. Not uncontrollably but enough that I felt I had to explain. Luckily I was the only one in the shop. The owner was so incredibly kind. And when I came back a few weeks later to pick up my art, he had included the lovely mats and nicer frames and still only charged me the original quote.
2. I was buying mattresses for my daughter (nesting and trying to get shit done while I still had access to my H's salary) and the woman who was helping me was again, so kind when I started to get tearful and explained why. She told be HER story about how her ex cheated and that her life was now so much better without him and that I was gonna be OK. And I might not be able to see it now, but that this could turn into a blessing. Boy was she ever right.
3. Random lady looked at me in the grocery story, I don't know what she saw when she looked at me, but she held eye contact and smiled at me. It was as if a messenger from heaven reached through her to say, we see you, we are watching, you will be ok. I still can't explain what happened. But I so needed that, that day.
4. more friends and family showed up for me than I even knew I had. and listened and hugged and helped me laugh
5. my Sister in law went with me on countless hikes and listened or was silent with me and got me outside and moving. Pricless.
6. Meditation. I learned to meditate, I still practice many days a week. Life changing and a small moment of peace and being present carved out in every day.