The World’s Not Right

I wish I could understand what my friends go through. I don’t wish to go through it on a personal level; but I feel as though I try to empathize with them by relating to them, and it doesn’t work, as their problems are on a far bigger scale that I’ve only skidded the surface of. As a writer, I feel I am able to place myself in situations and feel as though I know — to a certain degree — what it’s like going through said situation. But that doesn’t mean I get it in the slightest. There’s an after-effect that goes on, that people go through on a daily basis.

Things like eating disorders aren’t an occasional trigger, or skipping a meal on accident. It’s a serious problem that people really go through. It doesn’t mean you stop thinking about food; it’s all you think about. Having self-harm issues doesn’t mean the occasional thought of a bloody arm, it means a constant, never-ending thought of death. I do not have these issues, and I can not relate to these issues in the ways that some others (especially some of those very close to me) have gone through them.

But these friends I have are real people, and they don’t deserve these problems. They were once innocent and helpless, and shit’s happened and it’s not right. The world’s not right. It’s been nice to me, and I would gladly take their pain away from all of them were I able. I want happiness for all of them, but there’s only so much I can do.

The worlds been nice to me, and I’m mad about that. I know I should be grateful for what I’ve been given, but I feel that everything great has come out of something bad — as these people have seen how dark the world can be and they’d like to put their light into it. I’d like to shine my light, but since I have not seen the darkness, I can’t grow brighter.

These are just my thoughts. If you have similar or differing, I’d love to hear them. annatichenor@yahoo.com