Today is February 14th, 2018. In the western world, that means it’s Valentine’s Day. Did you know it’s linked (in 18th century England/Europe) to give small golden keys to children to ward off epilepsy, which was dubbed Saint Valentine’s Illness ? You might want to be careful who you deem lovesick.
I posted on Monday about being alexithymic: the difficulties in identifying emotions within myself, and in others. Having that on top of mental and chronic illness, healthy relationship odds for me scrape the bottom of the barrel. It’s hard enough making and maintaining friendships.
I know right now I’m focusing on my recovery. For me to be the best for another, I have to be the best for myself. No question. It’s a very fine line to know how much isolating yourself to heal is in fact healthy.
There’s so many directions I could take this, and in my head they’re all negative. All my outcomes in the attempts at finally obtaining a typical life milestone would make any Indy-noir film maker froth at the mouth.
You know, out of kindness, this is where I stop. People are looking for hope, and right now, I have none to share. If you’re reading this, and you’re like me, at least you know you’re not alone. Will it get better? I don’t know. In the future, I hope to read my words and gloat at how wrong I was.
Sometimes the kindest gesture to others is silence.
Those of you who do have loved ones to partake in this day: look past the superficiality and try to really see your partner. I overheard yesterday a couple say “Valentine’s Day has lost its spark”. If you doing things solely to keep up with others, or to be grandiose, I’m sure it would become taxing. Love has become a capitalized market: we’ve gotten to the point where we have catalogues of human beings to skim through on our phones like a magazine in a doctor’s office.
Don’t lose your curiosity for each other.