Random Thoughts
I don't know about you but I sometimes have most of my most random thoughts when I'm doing menial tasks. I think it's because my hands are busy doing something so routine that my mind is free to ponder and wander. I was getting ready for the day today and I started thinking about the paperwork I still have to fill out for the pain doctor appointment this week. There is a question about whether I have ever been diagnosed with depression. And that question is pissing me off. I'm not sure how to answer it. So I've been avoiding the paperwork. That made me start thinking about the times I've been prescribed mood stabilizers. When I was a teenager, I had issues with anxiety and depression. I'm older now and have the benefit of hindsight and I started thinking about what prompted all of that.
I think part of it was the realization of how big the world is and how small each of us are. I know a lot of it was puberty and hormones and not knowing how to deal with emotional upheaval, but around the same time I was really struggling I had really started researching WWII. I had to do a project for World History and I interviewed my great uncle. I found out he'd been in WWII. I started by asking him a couple of questions and after a few answers, he just started talking. By the end, we both had tears and I'm not sure that either of us knew we were crying. It was one of the most moving experiences of my life. After that my need to know everything about WWII was insatiable. And what I learned was horrifying. And then I researched the Vietnam War. And I researched the Cambodian Killing Fields. And I did school projects on some of the things I found. It got to the point that I could freehand draw the outline of Cambodia. Most of the things I learned I was never taught in school. And my own research was something that gripped me much more than any homework assignment could. So I didn't do most of my homework assignments.
I was struggling to figure out how humanity could commit such atrocious acts. And how I could be part of these societies. How these things happened over and over and over. Genocides and wars. Internment camps. Slaughters. The more I researched, the more insanity I found. I was prescribed medication to try to help me, and we found it didn't help. I was a teenager and couldn't find a way to say what was in my head. So we tried medications. When they didn't work, they took me off of them and sent me to a therapist, who suggested I try journaling. And that was my fix. That helped. And I kept researching these subjects. And I found light. I found that in every single one of these horrifying things, there were people who stood up and said NO. They said they would not go along with this.
Even in my uncle's story. He was a prisoner. And three small acts of kindness from strangers saved his life. In WWII acts of courage saved people every single day. In every war, every genocide, every conflict, bravery of ordinary people changed lives. And that was my light. That was my hope.
People are ugly and mean and cruel. But people are also beautiful and kind and loving. And I had so many examples of both in all of the reading I had done. So many movies I had watched. I had examples of kindness and love in my upbringing. There was hope for humanity. And look at all of those ordinary people that HAD made a difference. That was my new hope.
Those things still stick with me. I still have an insatiable need to research everything and anything related to WWII. I read every memoir I can get my hands on, from all theaters and all sides. I watch all of the movies. I feel a constant need to understand. To help be a part of making sure such things never happen again.
It's also part of the reason why I got my most recent tattoo [recent as in a year ago], drawn for me by one of the best people I know. Every one is climbing their own mountain. Be Fearless while you're doing it.
I think part of it was the realization of how big the world is and how small each of us are. I know a lot of it was puberty and hormones and not knowing how to deal with emotional upheaval, but around the same time I was really struggling I had really started researching WWII. I had to do a project for World History and I interviewed my great uncle. I found out he'd been in WWII. I started by asking him a couple of questions and after a few answers, he just started talking. By the end, we both had tears and I'm not sure that either of us knew we were crying. It was one of the most moving experiences of my life. After that my need to know everything about WWII was insatiable. And what I learned was horrifying. And then I researched the Vietnam War. And I researched the Cambodian Killing Fields. And I did school projects on some of the things I found. It got to the point that I could freehand draw the outline of Cambodia. Most of the things I learned I was never taught in school. And my own research was something that gripped me much more than any homework assignment could. So I didn't do most of my homework assignments.
I was struggling to figure out how humanity could commit such atrocious acts. And how I could be part of these societies. How these things happened over and over and over. Genocides and wars. Internment camps. Slaughters. The more I researched, the more insanity I found. I was prescribed medication to try to help me, and we found it didn't help. I was a teenager and couldn't find a way to say what was in my head. So we tried medications. When they didn't work, they took me off of them and sent me to a therapist, who suggested I try journaling. And that was my fix. That helped. And I kept researching these subjects. And I found light. I found that in every single one of these horrifying things, there were people who stood up and said NO. They said they would not go along with this.
Even in my uncle's story. He was a prisoner. And three small acts of kindness from strangers saved his life. In WWII acts of courage saved people every single day. In every war, every genocide, every conflict, bravery of ordinary people changed lives. And that was my light. That was my hope.
People are ugly and mean and cruel. But people are also beautiful and kind and loving. And I had so many examples of both in all of the reading I had done. So many movies I had watched. I had examples of kindness and love in my upbringing. There was hope for humanity. And look at all of those ordinary people that HAD made a difference. That was my new hope.
Those things still stick with me. I still have an insatiable need to research everything and anything related to WWII. I read every memoir I can get my hands on, from all theaters and all sides. I watch all of the movies. I feel a constant need to understand. To help be a part of making sure such things never happen again.
It's also part of the reason why I got my most recent tattoo [recent as in a year ago], drawn for me by one of the best people I know. Every one is climbing their own mountain. Be Fearless while you're doing it.
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