Worry about yoself.

It’s hard, when you’re a soft individual – a caring, shouldering, kind, trusting individual – to accomplish this seemingly easy task: “You, worry about yourself.”

I think it is definitely easier said than done. I think that it’s one thing to say you’re not going to let the decisions that other people make affect you. That you’re going to let their hurt and horror be their own. That you have enough of your own villains to worry about.
And it is a completely different thing to actually do it.

I know of at least 3 people who are currently unaware of the mess they’ve gotten themselves involved in. Three girls dating or married to three boys who have cheated on them – at least once – and it kills me. These issues, someone else’s shortcomings, they occupy my mind (as if I have any capacity to worry about ducks that don’t live on my pond).

I’m at the point where I am consciously aware of the burden these issues that do not involve me are creating in my life. And I can’t understand why I’m letting it continue.

Why does the amount of sugar you feed your two year old bother me? Why do I feel an overwhelming need to tell people I don’t even know the truth about their fairytale? Why do I care if your order doesn’t arrive on time, when you waited until the last minute to order it?

I have to learn to worry about myself. I have to learn to focus on my issues, and my happiness, and my life’s goals and aspirations. But how? How do you learn to not be who you are? And if I let go of the care and concern I have for other people, am I losing a piece of myself?

I guess, at a certain point, I’m hoping I’ll encounter some thing or idea (or someone?) that flips a switch inside me – that makes me stop worrying about not only the things that I can’t change, but the things that don’t affect me. Compassion is a wonderful attribute, until it stops including you. Then it’s just exhausting.

How does one simply worry only about themselves?
I found the answer to this seemingly rhetorical question a lot quicker than I thought. 

You learn to worry about yourself rather quickly. It happens in one swift moment. When someone tries to tell you something, something (that is to them) certain. Something black and white. Something even Ray Charles could see. And you don’t see it. You don’t acknowledge or believe it. You fight your way out of what is clearly happening right before your eyes, because you don’t see it that way. & you don’t see it that way because you don’t want to. and right then, you realize it isn’t your place to ever tell anyone something about their own life, ever. half the time they won’t believe you, and the other half they will – and truthfully, I don’t know which is worse.

I don’t know what kind of person you are, out there reading this.
Inroverted, extroverted, simplistic, fragile, mean, kind, skinny or strong. But I have some advice on the type of person you should be. I think, to live a happy life, we should all be the type of person I somehow manifested while sleeping last night. The type of person who does things based on how right they feel. Not how right they look, or sound, or seem to others. How they feel to oneself. We have to be the type of person who stops seeking advice where it isn’t necessary, & who stops offering advice or information where it isn’t solicited. And to some, even me as I sit here re-reading this, it kind of sounds like I’m removing one of the greatest qualities that makes a friend. But I’m not. I’m removing dependency on others. And I think that’s where the disconnect lies, where it lied for me; we have to learn that friends are people whom we can mingle with and enjoy life, not those we must consult, or consider, to make our life decisions for us.

“Other people are not medicine.” you know?



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