Building Emotional Pillars

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We as humans are weak by default, both physicalli and emotionalli. For example, a Lebanese claustrophobic would avoid taking the elevator for fear of electric cuts. Assuming the stairs are a safer option, she could take them, trip on a broken step and break her neck, and end up dead. In my opinion, that is a fragile being, in addition to a highli unlucki one. If you claim you’re invincible and you’re sailing smoothli through the windi storms in your life, I’ve got news for you my friend. There will come a day when that mast will break, and you’re going to need someone to pick up the pieces. Who is it going to be? Who do we rely on for support? And how dependent are we on our support systems?

As children, we are mostli reliant on our parents and the famili members who are around to help raise us, in addition to the migrant housekeepers who are stuck with taking care of some of us. It’s a factual matter that children need responsible adults around them to grow up in a safe environment. It is also factual that some kids create imaginari friends and project their fears and anxieties on them, thus creating their personal form of support. The shit hits the fan when they grow up and their imaginari friends grow along with them. For example, you go on a date with a girl who has the sexiest afro you’ve ever seen, and she orders two lattés for herself, one with soy milk because her friend Eliane (who is always present in her conversations but has never actualli showed up) is, apparentli, lactose intolerant. If you witness such an unfortunate event, you’d better start running my friend, and don’t try to look back.

When the teenage fever hits, and the world seems evil, it becomes hard to relate to the people around us.  At 15, I was hit by one of the major depressions of my life. My best friend had left our school and my grades were failing drasticalli. I felt I was ugli. I found solace online in a man named Jack, an American I had stumbled on in some chat room. He lived in Arkansas, USA. Jack was a nice guy. He was married with a daughter who was around my age. We used to compare the cities we lived in. He told me he stopped riding his motorcycle when his daughter was born. I taught him how to order a beer in Arabic. I even chatted with his daughter, who asked me if I was a fan of the Goo Goo Dolls; she swore she wasn’t inventing the name! Jack was the first stranger I ever came out to. And soon after that, I stopped talking to him. I now presume he had served his purpose when he told me it was fine, and that it didn’t change anything for him. I was okay.

As we grow up, the ideal image of our parents begins to shatter, and realiti slaps us in the face.  We realize they are not as tall as we thought they were, or as honest.  They become more human and less perfect. We start to identify with them and see their character traits as individuals and not just as parents. Some become our friends and confidants. The relationship becomes equalized before they start getting older. And we, for a change, have to assume the caretaker role.

Our friends, though, are usually the ones who remain the major “support front.” Those would be the people around us, whether they’ve been a part of our lives since a tender age, or whether they started off as strangers who helped us find the toilets on a drunken night. The people we share common beliefs, common experiences, or a sense of humor with. The priceless exchange of trust binds us together. And in mani cases it is a lifetime commitment that requires much effort and sometimes sacrifice, yet is a most rewarding system.

Some might seek support in masses, as in a sense of belonging. It could be acquired through a support group, such as our beloved Meem. Some seek it in church communities, through a gathering of faith. Others surround themselves with free-thinkers and artists.

However, the greatest support we can receive is the one we offer ourselves: the abiliti to allow ourselves to grieve for our suffering and accept to be rejuvenated through our pain. Once we are certain that we are capable of pushing ourselves out of the dark holes, we can then resort to the external elements such as famili or friends, or even faith. But we must attempt to empower ourselves independentli so that we ascertain that we in turn can be of support to the precious ones in our lives.

Phoenix is a self-centered and sarcastic soul incarnated, perhaps by accident, in the bodi of a woman. As a writer with a temper, she replaces her "y's with an annoying “i” for aesthetical purposes and lives to crack a joke, at the expense of others. Her paranoid nature makes her sensitive to plants, animals and people. Ironicalli, after making fun of the Meem lesbians for years, she found a warm home there and is now renowned as its veri own emotional pest. She enjoys reading the paper with a hot cup of black tea while nude, more often than not.

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