Hello all, this is my first post in the blogs. I just wanted to pose a question to all of you, because I'm struggling with it, and any input is welcome.
How do you deal with the simple, unalterable fact that nearly everyone you meet in your life, except your parents and maybe one or two other people, does not care about you?
It's not that they wouldn't stop you from committing suicide if you were about to; I think we all would attempt to preserve life as best we could. But I am finding it very hard to come to terms with the fact that (and it sounds so silly to say it) people aren't constantly thinking of how others feel. So many things get said and done, without any thought to the effects they have on others. And you, the person who is getting hurt all the time, cannot blame them; they cannot see what they are doing to you. You cannot blame a blind man for bumping into you, but neither can you make him see.
Part of the problem, I think, is that I am overly caring. Sorry, I've never gotten the hang of saying something positive about myself to people I don't know, but I do honestly think that I care way too much about other people. Every single post in this thread, every single time someone shares their troubles, I want to message them and offer to talk about it, to do something, anything to ease their pain. Of course, it can't be done, my logical side says, you'd just look creepy or needy or lonely or whatever. Your motive will always be misunderstood. I wish it wasn't that way.
It took me twenty-one years to figure it out, that I was overly caring; I was an "alpha" before. I believed in power through intelligence and dominance, in confidence, in ego. I wasn't a jerk, but I believed that showing emotion was weakness and that every weakness must be eliminated somehow. I was the guy who would never run, even when he was late for something important; it would have showed that there was something that mattered to me.
And now, here I am, struggling to deal with these emotions that have come back full force. I have come to see what a gift my oversensitivity is, as I can share the pain and joy of others, as people come to me looking for sympathy or advice, as I am capable of acts of pure altruism (it was very recently that I managed one). But some days, the things that are said are just too much for me to handle, and I am reminded just how little my friends are capable of caring. They don't mean it, I know, but they can't help it.