Good Suma Ramen

Overflowing-Joy-Religious-Stock-Photos-e1401133669552

You know the story, a guy gets hurt; beaten, robbed, left for dead, and an unlikely hero stops to help him out. He goes down in history as the example to all of us to help those in need. We look to his kindness, selflessness, and lack of prejudice like a light in a darkened world. But what if…

The guy that has been left for dead doesn’t want help. What if that guy, bleeding, hurt, spit in his eye, likes where he is. What if he wants to wallow and suffer and die.

I like to help people. I get a bit of a rush when I do something for someone else. I remember right after Brad died, I was at the grocery store in Florida getting some food I probably wasn’t going to eat. The lady in front of me went to pay and realized she didn’t have her payment method with her. I paid for her stuff. It wasn’t a big deal, not more than $4o I think, but it helped her and it gave me a rush. Call me selfish, but I needed that rush at that point in my life. I was drained and bleeding inside, and it healed me a bit.

What if we turned the story around more and looked at it from the bleeders point of view. Aren’t we all hurting in some way? Aren’t we all close to the edge at some point in our lives, wondering why me, why now, why can’t this go away? Hands reach down for us, trying to help, and we swat them away; too focused on our suffering to let anyone in. Misery may love company, but pity makes its own party.

When I was dating Brad, he came into my room one day to find me lying on my back listening to The Cure. He hated that band because he said it was depressing. He asked me why I was listening to it then. I told him, it was depressing to me too, but since I was feeling low already, I thought it would bottom me out so I could climb back up. Kind of a weird technique some might think, but that’s how I roll. I don’t like to wallow around in misery, I’d rather invite it in, feed it dinner, and send it off with a goodie bag for lunch tomorrow. After Brad died, I would schedule my grieving. A nice car ride around the neighborhood with a special song playing and tears flowing freely. Badda boom. Done. On to the next day.

I can see the mess from both sides. Someone might be sad and need to just be sad for a while, and someone might need to pull another person out of a pit. We all do what we have to I suppose. Don’t judge me too harshly if I walk away from a person in a misery driven rant, it’s not that I don’t care, it might just be that I know it’s a fever they need to bask in for a while before the cool collection can ensue. It might also be that the point they are tipping is causing my own cup to overflow, releasing those feelings that I keep so well behind my walls of sanity.

Cause I said so.

photo credit: http://www.coramdeogp.com

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