A demon of our own design

“The first and most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves.” ~Walter Anderson

Sad to admit, sympathy is not quite the term to describe my approach to people. Charitable maybe, but sympathy not really. I think i am missing a sympathy and empathy bone when i was born. Or perhaps i dropped those notions gradually as i change. To clarify, for the time being, i don't think this arose from a superiority complex of sorts. I imagine the root tend towards a certain approach towards life, rightly or wrongly.

I agree a lot of events are beyond our control. Like where we are born, who we are born to, natural disasters, our natural abilities blah blah blah. The bits that irk me are perhaps the 10% which are within our control but yet we failed to take responsibility for. Like effort, reflection, thinking, managing our own emotions, time, money, health and relationships.

Is it a leap of imagination to connect what irks me, with my general approach towards people and life?

Sometimes I irk myself, in events and instances when I lapsed.

When I spiral, I spiral very badly. I lose focus, I lose all perspective. And it takes awhile, and a lot of effort to haul myself out of the vortex. The process sucks. It always sucks. The singular question that would initiate the healing process always boil down to one –

"Is this your story, KTF?
Is this your story?
Is this the story of a poor, sob woman who ... (blah blah blah)."

The mind goes, “Wait a minute .. That is not my story!”

This is the way I slay my inner demons when I spiral and fail to be responsible for myself, to myself.

What is my story, I ask.

Mostly I see people's lives as stories to be lived out for real. I take the saying “The world is a stage” to its extremes. Sometimes, I see happy stories. Sometimes, I see encouraging ones. Sometimes, I see pending disasters. Sometimes, there are sob stories.

What is their story, I ask.

Very often, it is a story of their own design. Unwittingly.

So, charitable.