Vulnerability Vexations
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
It's a great blessing to be studying, and fully understanding the nature of cramming to the point of acceptance of a whole-night study experience. Even more of a blessing is to be plagued by distracting thoughts pertaining no relevance to the study material.
What is it that causes us to be vulnerable? Why are some openly vulnerable and comfortable within it? I would call myself such an individual. Otto calls me honest, I call me vulnerable. I am a horrible liar, meaning that I lie too often, for whatever purpose--I don't know. But I despise wearing a mask; I implore you, read right through me, know who I am and see through this facade I try so desperately not to perform.
I don't understand how to viably withold information, to understand the matrices of friendship and interpersonal relations, to a point where I may choose what to say and what not to say with intent on remaining distant and defended. This is an art foreign to me. As I said to a friend earlier today, "I can't think in terms of, 'He likes me, he doesn't,' it's just so different to how I think of people". She wasn't too impressed. I like to think I have nothing to hide. It's cliché, I know.
I have, however, hidden depression behind the mask of being tired. It's convenient when you work graveyard shifts to mope around grumpy and snappy; I'm sorry for putting you, my friends, through that.
But simultaneously, some are so completely uncomfortable with vulnerability. The cause? Past hurt? Yea. The memory of being hurt by whatever issue remains foremost in the mind, and issues warning not to allow anyone to hurt using this issue again. That trap is neverending, a loop that only causes withdrawl. I love you all too much to let that be; I pray for you by name.
Often I call myself a monster, and justly so. I have done things to deserve the title. Strange, that if I am not actively building up my friendships, I am subconsciously pushing them away. As I see it, my future is a lonely one.
In conclusion (and without want to sound like an essay), I enjoy sharing my life, both past and present with fine people. To be vulnerable, is to find the love of Christ in people, as you recount horrible things, but they only sit, accept and love. Should we be vulnerable more often? I sure hope I can be.
What is it that causes us to be vulnerable? Why are some openly vulnerable and comfortable within it? I would call myself such an individual. Otto calls me honest, I call me vulnerable. I am a horrible liar, meaning that I lie too often, for whatever purpose--I don't know. But I despise wearing a mask; I implore you, read right through me, know who I am and see through this facade I try so desperately not to perform.
I don't understand how to viably withold information, to understand the matrices of friendship and interpersonal relations, to a point where I may choose what to say and what not to say with intent on remaining distant and defended. This is an art foreign to me. As I said to a friend earlier today, "I can't think in terms of, 'He likes me, he doesn't,' it's just so different to how I think of people". She wasn't too impressed. I like to think I have nothing to hide. It's cliché, I know.
I have, however, hidden depression behind the mask of being tired. It's convenient when you work graveyard shifts to mope around grumpy and snappy; I'm sorry for putting you, my friends, through that.
But simultaneously, some are so completely uncomfortable with vulnerability. The cause? Past hurt? Yea. The memory of being hurt by whatever issue remains foremost in the mind, and issues warning not to allow anyone to hurt using this issue again. That trap is neverending, a loop that only causes withdrawl. I love you all too much to let that be; I pray for you by name.
Often I call myself a monster, and justly so. I have done things to deserve the title. Strange, that if I am not actively building up my friendships, I am subconsciously pushing them away. As I see it, my future is a lonely one.
In conclusion (and without want to sound like an essay), I enjoy sharing my life, both past and present with fine people. To be vulnerable, is to find the love of Christ in people, as you recount horrible things, but they only sit, accept and love. Should we be vulnerable more often? I sure hope I can be.