Trying to define it after 35 years of not doing so
These past few weeks have been eye-opening for me. I have realized some very hard truths. I have been trying to struggle internally with depression and anxiety. I had it managed somewhat. I did work with my doctor to figure out some prescriptions to manage some of the things I have been experiencing. And it worked. I was happy. I thought.
But then I did an experiment. Here is a link to that story if you want to know more. I certainly got a result. Not the result I was expecting. Part of the fallout of my experiment is that I have been re-examining myself under a microscope. And I am doing so willingly and openly. And it has been life changing. So as part of this process, I wanted to actually define myself.
I am a factor of my environment. Everything that has ever happened in my life is unique to me. Not every event is unique, but the details and sequences of events are unique to the person. That is ok.
As an extension of this, I want to acknowledge my privilege. I grew up in a fortunate situation. I am a cishet white male. I have had struggles of course, but not nearly the struggles of others. I am also not as fortunate as others. And that is ok too. The question is not what you have, but what you do with it.
An experience’s true value cannot be known until it is shared. By opening up to the others around me, I am able to see similarities and differences. Both are ok, depending on what you are trying to do. I have always tried to do this from an intellectual level. But for the first time in my life, I see it from the emotional level too. Emotions are all uniquely experienced. But the ideas can be shared with the knowledge that others experience emotions differently.
I am not perfect. Not even close. But I do know I can be better. And I can be better only by sharing my thoughts and experiences with others, and sharing in their experiences.