Hi, everybody.
I don’t think there’s anything I feel as deeply as I do with sadness, which makes it my favorite emotion to feel. Odd, right? It awakens every piece of me in the worst of ways, but it reminds me that I am alive and I care about myself. From a young age, I became accustomed to the feeling of sadness. I remember the first time quite vividly. It’s not one someone would forget.
One morning I was sitting on my bed, legs dangled, with my arms crossed. I was four, almost five. I didn’t know much. My brother, the night prior, was taken away by bright lights and loud noises. My parents told me my brother wouldn’t be back. I asked how long. I didn’t like the answer. They didn’t like the answer. I felt something I’d never felt before in my life. It didn’t feel good, but I felt it. And I’d continue to feel it for, well, to be determined.
Maybe that’s why I feel it more and more as my life goes on. Was I conditioned to be sad? It’s kind of drastic to think about. It wouldn’t have been intentional, right? They say there’s a God – if there’s a God then it was intentional. Big reason why it’s hard to believe in the big guy upstairs if I’m telling the truth here.
Maybe I enjoy the feeling because I’m afraid of leaving what I know. Maybe I’m afraid of enjoying the emotion of happiness because I know it can shock me back into sadness within a split second. Maybe I’m experiencing something else, something different from sadness, and I just can’t differentiate it at times. Maybe.
There’s a lot of unknowns. But just ask around. Some people will tell you, “That Henry? He has sad eyes.”
I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.
The Two Sides of Me 