Most of us, at some point, have lived in the wallow of self-pity.
It feels good for a while, wallowing like I'm in some Woody Allen movie, but then I realize it's slowly poisoning my life but I can't snap out of it.
Do I like feeling sorry for myself?
Does feeling sorry for myself give me an "out"?
Why do I even feel bad about myself? I don't really have any reason to.
I've done a lot of soul-searching these past couple of weeks, and I'm starting to dissect this cycle of pity-depression.
The main culprit: the masquerade.
Most of us, college students especially, masquerade our pains, troubles, and sufferings. Campus cultures often perpetuate this aura of "everything is alright"-ness. Our environments that we roam freely become the very places that make us feel trapped the most.
As a result of the facades we put up, we are forced to mask most of our below-ground experiences and emotions. Our lives, to others, is simply a highlight reel; it's a scrapbook filled with only the very best pictures.
What I've found is that this sort of positive presentation to others leaves the negative stuff bottled up, waiting for us when we come home, alone. We're left to deal with our shortcomings alone.
We throw a blanket over all of our problems, but the mound underneath keeps getting bigger and bigger and we're sitting on top of it. Others may notice it, but only we can feel how tough it is underneath.
I think that THIS is the root of self-pity.
My solution so far? I'm no Mark Manson, but I do know that being cognizant of your emotions is a good first step towards any kind of self healing.
So I try to be aware.
I try to NOT hide everything that goes wrong in my life.
There are people out there that want to help, or even just listen, and so often that's all we need to toss that problem once and for all.
After all, wouldn't it be nice to sit on flat ground for once?