“Reality is defined and limited by possibility; therefore personal reality is defined and limited by what is possible for you.”
People say impossible a lot. Granted, we are endowed with sufficient logically deductive capabilities to ascertain the possibility or impossibility of a circumstantial occurrence based on the underlying determining factors and set precedence.
Which is really just an obnoxious way of saying that we learn from experience. And I wonder, how many disappointments have people had, how many crushed dreams and dashed hopes and empty wishes does it take to finally resign them to permanent residency in the realm of impossibility? Because if that’s the conclusive result of a learning experience, then damn, I sure as hell am one slow learner.
“The disappointment you experience is in direct proportion to the hope you have.”
And that’s just the way it is, no? And I hate it. No, not the fact; though feeling disappointed as a risk of having hope is something that intimidates the hell out of me, I’ve accepted it. What I hate is how the fear of disappointment pushes people to say things like, “See, that’s why I don’t hope at all” or “Why hope if you’re going to be disappointed anyway?”
Yes, disappointment sucks. I detest how easily it builds up and festers into bitterness, resentment, and jadedness. Not very appealing personality trait options. But doesn’t ‘to not hope at all’ mean you’re bitter, resentful, and jaded already and simply trying to not become more?
A couple of blog entries ago, during my last episode of severe mental break – and extreme melt – down, I posted such a sentiment. That was made even more tragic by the words “Faith. Hope. Love” I had permanently tattooed across the insides of my left forearm. Luckily, after a highly melodramatic phase of seclusion and soul searching, I bounced back. Things haven’t exactly reached a favourable conclusion and they sure are taking their sweet time but as I’ve said again and again, if you can’t change the way things are, alter the way you react to them. So that’s what I do.
I consider the absence of hope a bleak and depressing state to be in. I’ve tried it, didn’t work out, and didn’t take. But maybe it’s working wonders for you, in which case I say congratulations, carry on, and best of luck. To each his own. Whatever makes you happy. For me personally, no matter how huge the disappointment lurking and waiting for me at the end, I’m still going to pour all probable hope into it despite the impossibility. I’ve attempted it, lived through it, and managed to stay myself. Failure hurts but it only kills if you let it. And if I crumble, I’ll just pick up the pieces and start rebuilding until I’m whole again. The knowledge that I’ve tried, and that I’ve tried my damnedest with no qualms or reservations, will carry me along and let me see yet another day.
“I can do what you do; but then I’d be you, which would totally suck for me because at the end of the day, through it all, I’d much rather be me.”
And if I forget, I’ll just stare at these three words tattooed down my arm until I remember again.