What context do I consider the suffering I’ve endured over my lifetime? What about the suffering of others? Do we become stronger through what we experience? Or should we be free from these burdens? Does suffering make us more successful? The conventional logic is that you have to suffer for what you believe in, whether in a religious or capitalist context, but what about existing? Do we need to suffer or suffer to overcome suffering?
The American Healthcare System is not something I overly believe in much anymore.
It’s a scary notion to consider since this is the only system I currently have access to, but this notion that I’ve had to suffer in agony for as long as I have has really left me feeling demoralized and demotivated. Did I suffer all this because I don’t subscribe to a traditional religious belief? There are valid arguments to be made for certain facets of this. If I were part of a larger community, I could be getting help, maybe, faster or more reliably than doing it all on my own. Others could be there to help me out. Instead, it’s just me advocating for my own health, which should be the easiest thing to do. Instead, I feel like some kind of loser in this system.
This is probably why I’ve never really believed in much of any formal structure.
How could a deity treat me as I’ve been treated? I’ve had it easy compared to some people, in certain regards. This sort of indifference is callous enough to where the only thing I really believe in is that which has happened, through provable measures. People are, I’ve found, generally unreliable. Maybe it’s that whole feeling of not being part of the community, the right community, or having the right match within the community, so I’ve always felt more comfortable outside of those communal structures.
I’ve had some dark moments over the past week.
In those moments, I’ve had no visions or experiences of salvation to sedate or calm me outside of, well, “The Story.” Thinking about the plights of these two teens gives me more hope and inspiration than most of what’s out there in life. In that sense, do I serve them as a servant serves a religion? Possibly, although those sorts of questions muddle the waters with intentionality and perhaps seek to add the author to the art. My life means next to nothing to next to everyone out there, as it should be. We are just people living our humble, inconsequential lives. If my life can positively impact as many people as I can muster, does that give my life meaning?
I used to think that way.
Now, I suppose I write because I feel more satisfaction from writing than most other recreational activities, and when I’m done I have something that might help others. I could play a videogame but that won’t help anyone except for myself. When I’m in these darker moments, recovering my mind and my body in a videogame or elsewhere might be a better solution than trying to write and ending up offending, but really, who will I offend? Everyone is offendable. I am offended and I have offended. The nuance is where we should strive, because if I say something provocative, it should be with the intention to help rather than hurt.
I’ve barely felt like eating or taking care of myself this week.
Is that sort of sickness a physical manifestation of physical problems? An emotional or spiritual problem? Did the offenses I might have caused in a previous or current life finally catch up to me? Am I now paying penance for these crimes? I don’t dig into these thoughts often because for me, the answer is no, the answer is a physical solution based on a physical problem, but in this series, I suppose it is fair to ask whether my pains are the result of emotional or spiritual problems. Decreasing physicality can be depressing, but that sort of depression is easy for me to understand.
I haven’t been able to fix this issue despite my best efforts.
So I keep having to put the pressure on the right people to hold them accountable for the services they offered to me, then neglected. In some way, I feel like this would be the approach I would take with any religion, were I to adopt any, where I would ask of it what it would do for me, along with what I could do for it. The answer would be, as it was when I grew up with a religion, non-beneficial for me. I tried as I could, in earnest, to have those sorts of psychedelic visions from on high, but the most I heard was nothing and the most I felt was nothing.
Should I have tried harder?
Well, there’s a certain notion, too, where a person should experience leniency in their most vulnerable moment. Whether they were at their most vulnerable because they still had room to suffer is actually a disgusting thought because while we should be compelled to apply moderate effort, even pain, in order to achieve all of our goals, we shouldn’t have to suffer needlessly without compassion. How cruel would that sort of system be for participation? Well, it’s the system I’ve found myself dragged into through the Ameican Healthcare System, where normally, I don’t even think about Sundays as being a particularly religious day. It’s less active for my inbox, primarily. Is this the time I should be trying to find a religion to help build that sort of communal energy that might help me through this trying time? I’d rather do it myself to get it done. Trusting in the great unknown sounds like wanting to die but holding out a sliver of hope that something will give you meaning. Find your own damn meaning.
Then do the work toward fulfilling that obligation in whatever capacity it might be in.
|Sources: My personal experiences.|
|Inspirations: Channeling an old school essay style I once had when I was younger and madder.|
|Related: Sober Living essays and Tripping On [The American Healthcare System] chapters.|
|Written On: 2020 June 07 [2:47pm to 3:16pm]|
|Last Edited: 2020 June 07 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|