ON HUMAN SUFFERING — When Being Different Hurts

Reflection from February 19th, 2008 @ Age 26


I know in many ways, more ways than not most likely—being a parent and being an attorney are two completely different things.  But it seems that in at least one fundamental respect, the jobs are one and the same.  I think in the fiduciary nature of each role, lies the similarity.  What I see right now is that in each job — although you are very educated, have much determination and motivation, and possess perhaps the best of intentions — in each job you can make the teeniest, tiniest, most slight errors which nonetheless end up wreaking unimaginably tremendous negative consequences; consequences that you alone will be held responsible for.  Whether it is right or wrong—as a parent and as an attorney you will be held responsible for any errors that you make, be it in judgment, calculation, estimated risk, any kind of category you can think of.  One thing is certain, that you alone will be held responsible.

And so I take seriously and treat in the most delicate regard the responsibility of learning how to be an attorney.  I just wish people would do the same in making the decision to bring children into this world.  It’s funny because I was driving home from Cleveland yesterday, thinking about all of this.  I suppose it all comes down to the stupid time/money dilemma—namely, it always seems to have been the case in my life that either I have the time to spend doing some activity, but not the money; or I have the money to enjoy some particular activity, but not the time.

I was thinking about that today, and it reminded me of a time when—I must have been just three or four years old, maybe five.  Anyways, it reminded me of a time when I was very young and my mom took me to the YMCA to drop me off for gymnastics practice.  Now, where she dropped me off was at the door to the gymnasium, which was absolutely huge to begin with—but f@#king mansion size to a four year old.  Anyways, I didn’t know anyone and didn’t know where I was supposed to go or who I was supposed to see or what the f@ck I was even supposed to do with myself—and my mom was in a hurry to get someplace and she said don’t worry, you’ll be fine, just go talk with so and so and they’ll tell you what to do.  And she was gone.  And that was that.  There was no choice in the matter, there was no opportunity to voice my opinion.  I was abandoned — left high and dry in this huge f@#king scary gym with these masses of f@#king people — I was left all alone in the world without as much as a second thought.

It’s just funny how certain things happen to you in your youth, things that don’t even seem important at all at the time, or at least not to a grown up who has much more important things on their mind.  Anyways, it’s just funny how these kinds of things happen to you in your youth, when you have absolutely no control over your surrounding circumstances, and leave impressions imprinted upon you for the rest of your f@#king life.  Myself for instance, that day in the gym I was terrified and abandoned, terrified of the massive gym and the massive amounts of people within it—and today, I remain absolutely terrified of this infinite world and the seemingly infinite people within it.  Not friendly faces, no friends, just disinterested people all around me.  People who already have friends, and people who already have significant others, and people who already have careers, and lives and vacations and houses and weddings and f@#king babies.  It’s never f@#king ending.  Today’s been a suicidal day, by the way.  I’m not sure that it shows, but I suspect perhaps that it does.

I think rape would probably be the absolute worst, most horrific circumstance to bear in this world.  Then perhaps the death of a child—I think that would prolly come in second.  But in at the very least third, I would have to say that abandonment — especially the chronic kind — is one of the most awful kind of experiences a human being must endure.  I mean shame and humiliation, anger and jealousy, fright and terror are all really awful emotions to feel—but somehow there’s no other emotion that is so fundamentally crippling than that of abandonment.  Or maybe that’s just the way I am feeling at the moment and so naturally, it seems like the most awful of awful feelings.

Gabrielle sent me pictures of Samantha Mandel and Vancuso’s f@#king baby boy today.  The kid was pretty cute, and had one helluva head of damn hair.  But just looking at those goddamn pictures was like—ohh what’s the cliché?  Slicing a whole into my heart and pouring on salt for good measure blah blah blah.  I know it’s pretty repetitive—my explanation of how this kind of pain hurts.  It’s really very difficult to put into words in the first place.  But in any case, just looking at the pictures of the cute little adorable baby really f@#king made me want to kill myself.  I started crying right there at work.  I hate my writing today—I can’t say what I mean and I don’t even know if I mean what I say, so that’s all for now.

3 thoughts on “ON HUMAN SUFFERING — When Being Different Hurts

  1. Hey there, tortured soul, calm your mind, keep it whole, we are around, no abandonment you see, life can be amazing, if you wanted it to be, ignore negative unproductive thought, search for ideas, you always sought, wear best clothes, your ever bought, and kiss yourself beautiful soul :-)


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