bitterdiva

Call it stress, call it bitch, call it ...

Life.

In a week, I've experienced every emotion known to humankind and it's absolutely exhausting on one's spirit. Life is comprised of various moments, emotions, and people. In order for the human race exist, there must always be a beginning and an end, or else the world would be overcrowded and sacraficial ceremonies would be more dominant.

Always existing are the two poles, life and death, happiness and sorrow, north and south, red states and blue states, and peanut butter and jelly. Sure we all can be prone to enjoying one thing more than the other, but in Economics we call this complements not subsitutes. Both are dependent upon the other, if one were to stop existing, so would the other. This isn't a substiute supply and demand curve here, this is real life.

Life, exams, presentations, sickness and death. That's the composition of this past week and pretty much that's the basic composition of life. I experienced the full circle, not of my own life or death, but empathetic sharing of the joys and sorrows of others. We live life vicariously through others, that's not to say that we just live through others, but we experience our life through the lives of those that touch us.

For me, death is one of the hardest things to deal with, it gets easier and harder as one progresses through their life, but it is a constant reminder of our parent's mortality (in this situation) or of our own mortality. Sometimes the death of the loved one is expected through a long, painful illness, and sometimes it slaps you hard in the face like Ike Turner. No matter expectedly or unexpectedly, griefing is difficult, moreso for some, including myself.

I am empathetic to the world, which is one of those characteristics that enable me to excel in the dramatic world of theatre. I cried hysterically in the theater when E.T. died, and I cried in the theater when John Travolta died in Phenomenon (I know, now that's just plain ridiculous), and I cried when chosing a card for Mother's Day. I cry. A lot. In the long run, crying is cathartic, it's a stress reliever. It's allowing my tear ducts to be cleansed. It forces my neurotransmitters to be realigned.

I experienced a lot this week. Some for the good: being finished with that goshdarnit Macroeconomics class, the birth of Kris' nephew; and some for the bad: the death of my friend's father. In the grand scheme of things, these are momentous occassions that allow us to reach out and reaffirm our support and love to those that care the most to us. And even though there are sorrowful moments in the world, there are also new beginnings. Perhaps this week stregthened my friendship and perhaps I learned a lesson or two about the bitch we call life.

01:02 PM