Is It Worse To Feel Alone, Or Wish You Were?
By Jimmy Young
The worst human condition to endure surely must be to feel all alone.
Nobody you can be there for, or lean on. No one who will sit by, chat at, and listen to you. No one who might understand, or anyone to fight, get frustrated with, argue and get mad at.
And nobody to be a kerosene doll and detonate to try and destroy you.
Neglect is a state of starvation. People need life supporting attention to not only thrive, but survive. Lack of cohesion to others is detrimental to the health and well-being of any human.
But is it better to have been near starved to death, or been fed poison in the gruel?
Baby primates will cling to a ‘wire mother.’ Tom Hanks in “Castaway” forged a relationship with Wilson, and belongings are hoarded, guarded, stored, clung to and adored to the point of suffocation. People have to connect, and will substitute objects for flesh and blood if conditions for a healthy relationship are not available. We absolutely need to.
It is reciprocation that fuels and keeps lit the fire inside; the life behind the shine in the eyes. But is a total lack of light worse than the dark of having been near buried alive?
When we reach out we need to know our acts are felt, that our touch is warm, we matter, and there is weight in what we do. We need to be alive and inhabit space, nothing could be worse than feeling erased.
Not many have to travel far to be reminded of someone with deep emotional scars. There are those stricken who hardly find rest. Some feel a need to strike a match and burn back, with no concern for who stands in the path. No one can slash deeper than one with wounds from a careless, callous, and cold-blooded coach.
As harmful as cruelty is on anyone who has been forced to endure its heart-chilling effects, total neglect is worse still. A child raised by wolves is better than left in the dark alone.
I have been burnt, hurt, and hated before and memories sting and hardened scars are sore. Perhaps I trusted when I should have high-tailed, believed when I should have bailed, and hung on when I should have cut ties and set sail.
But I stuck it out with a mind that it will be alright. Looked for the bright side while being fed crap in life. I put up with pain to keep from being alone, I suppose.
In the damage of ashes, slashes, splint bones and blood, in lakes of regret that can overwhelm and flood, are depths and sights not many can bring, in the song we all share add a chorus only I can sing.
To be in the story and play a hard role is better than an empty page with no sentence to show.
