An Open Letter To My Apathy
999! I have been in an accident and need help. Can you hear me? (The language of my emotions)
You’ve been my companion for way too long. Always there by my side, holding hand when I was lost, helping me go on when I felt most defeated. You’ve supported me in moments of utter brokenness, stitching me back together when I felt beyond repair. You gave me face when I didn’t have any.
In moments of anger, you helped me hold my tongue less I incinerated the only home I had. When life became unbearable, you led me to numerous distractions that might have saved me from drowning.
I look back at those hard years, and I see you. Concealing my anger for the sake of peace. Veiling my resentment to preserve my composure. Shrouding my fears to ease the growing restlessness. Camouflaging my sadness to propel me forward. Cloaking my grief to quell the storm and impending chaos.
But, as I reflect on our relationship, I can’t help but recognize the detrimental impact we’ve had on each other. Scratch that. I see the ways in which I’ve excessively indulged you, transforming you into a spoiled child who has lost respect for both me and the life I envisioned.
You were meant to guide me through tough times, to shield me from burning bridges and self-destruction. Yet, I see that you’ve lost sight of the dreams we once shared. Somewhere along the way, we settled into a comfort zone of ambivalence, experiencing a lack of inspiration and living in detachment. I became so accustomed to this state that I grew numb even to the comfort I sought.
My dear apathy, we’re no longer in imminent danger — not the kind where I require your protection. The risks of physical and emotional harm are minimal, unless I permit it through this unproductive companionship. There’s no hazy future to envision. You must release your hold on me so that I can actively shape that future each day.
We‘re free. You exerted considerable effort to bring me to this point. We’re here now. So, allow me to share something about this concept we once envisioned as freedom. Freedom is costly. It’s earned daily. It’s a practice, a way of life that must be demonstrated and lived each day.
Even Ryan Holiday says, “Freedom is the opportunity for self-discipline, unless we’d rather be adrift, vulnerable, disordered, or disconnected.’”
Freedom comes at a cost, a price I must pay every day. Unfortunately, I find myself unable to do so because you’ve left me bankrupt. Don’t misunderstand; you’re not a symbol of laziness or dullness. You’re simply a mask I had to wear because, at the time, I didn’t know better and didn’t have better.
However, you’ve also dragged me into an abyss of helplessness, powerlessness, and voicelessness, draining the vitality and creativity from within me. Ironically, you’re fostering the very environments you aimed to shield me from.
I don’t require a rebellion henceforth; what I need is a revolution. Apathy, you aren’t recognized for revolutionary actions. As Clarissa Estes points out in the Language of Emotions, all you do is “complain and gripe all day, but [you don’t] accomplish anything.”
Hence, it’s time for you to take the back seat. I implore you to step aside so that I can discern what you’ve been trying to show me all along and take meaningful action.
You’ve fought the good fight, run the race, and now it’s time to rest more and work less.
Yours,
With Love.
