Your mission: Name Alli's mental disorder
The symptoms: I am not at all a compassionate person. I have great trouble empathizing and sympathizing with other people, which is one of the reasons the behavior I am about to mention is so bizarre to me. Here are a few scenarios:
1) (This has happened in various settings) I am walking downtown Hobart, and see a man slumped over, sitting in a doorway, head in his hands. He looks upset. I walk past him and think nothing of it, but then I am suddenly hit with a huge wave of guilt that causes my stomach to flip. A little voice starts whining insistently in my head, "What if that man is in trouble? What if he is about to commit suicide? You could've stopped it, and you DIDN'T!!!" I sigh, and turn around against my better judgment. "Hello, sir," I say. "Is everything alright?" He ignores me. "Is there anything I can do for you?" Nothing. At least I was only ignored in this instance. Usually people give me dirty looks and tell me to mind my own business.
2) I am driving to work at Merrillville, and see a box in the middle of the road. I continue driving, but then I hear that voice and my stomach starts somersaulting. "What if there is a BABY in that box? He could be hit at anytime, and you aren't going to do ANYTHING?!" "No, Mr. Crazyvoice," I say, "There is no baby in the box, and I need to get to work. Besides, my coworkers drive this road all of the time, and what if they see me? I'll look totally nuts." "But it might be a BABY!!!!" "Aw, hell." I stop, turn the car around, and pull off to the side of the road. I walk into the middle of the street and check the box. Nope. No baby. Then, as I am walking back to the car, one my coworkers (from the cool group) stops and rolls down his window. "Hey, Alli. Are you having car trouble?" he asks. "Uh...no," I stammer. "I just wanted to make sure there wasn't a baby or something in that box." Silence. I laugh weakly. He lifts his eyebrows, nods, and drives off. I am shunned from the cool group for the remainder of the school year. (Not really)
3) I am taking my nightly walk. I look down and see a huge beetle overturned in the middle of the sidewalk. His legs are waving feebly as he tries to flip himself over. I keep walking. Mr. Crazyvoice starts in, “You’re just going to let it stay there? What if someone steps on him?" "It's a bug. And a really ugly one. It doesn't matter." "Don't you remember all of those fairy tales about the frogs and swans who are in trouble and grant wishes to those who help them and curse the ones who don't?" "Um, this is real life Mr. Crazyvoice. Not a fairy tale. Beetles don't turn into princes and grant wishes." "But what if the bug was JESUS? Wouldn't you help JESUS!!!?" "Oh for the love..." I stop, turn around, and use a stick to flip the stupid thing over. No wishes were granted, and as far as I know, the bug was not Jesus in disguise.
So there you go. Totally irrational and useless incidences of compassion. Based on my symptoms, how would you diagnose me?
Playing in my head: "I'll Fly Away"- Allison Krauss
Reading: I am frantically trying to finish my needlepoint before the baby arrives. No time for books!
4 comments:
First of all, bugs technically DON'T matter. You see, the Bible states that God sees even when a sparrow falls to the ground. Well, sparrows eat bugs, and therefore God doesn't care about them. Cause it doesn't say anything about "God even sees when a bug is eaten by a sparrow." I learned that in Theology 101.
Secondly, I think I've discovered the cause of your useless compassion. You see, my friend, I am uselessly compassionate pretty much all day long. You're simply exposed to my extreme irrational emotionalism too often, and it's beginning to rub off on you.
When I was little, I used to save worms from drowning in puddles after it rained. I also used to put frogs in my wagon and take them for walks, because I thought they might need a little stimulation. I got violently angry at my brother when he dissected crickets or played badminton with lightning bugs and a racket. And, well, you've seen my more recent bouts of useless compassion. :)
Enjoy it, it's fun! Plus it makes people think you're really, really odd.
hmmm, my diagnosis would be that your are pregnant with a big headed baby.
Baby will NOT be happy if she gets here and that needlepoint isn't done!
Ummm, are we twins becasue you just describd my head ALL the time. Its good to know thast others think these things too! LOL! When I was little and I was taking the eggs out of the styrafoam (how do you spell that?) container to put into the container into the refrigerator it always took me forever because I was afraid that the eggs needed to be by their friends and I didnt want them to be sad.
If it makes you feel any better I have done the same thing on the side of the road except it was a bag not a box. :)
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