Donations
I started to regret my donation box. The most I got out of it was anger. Sadness is second in line; I never looked forward to the ones that came with depression. And I honestly didn't know confusion was an emotion. My latest sentiment. . . anxiety.
How do people live worrying all the time like this?
It's exhausting.
I opened the front door. Facing the lawn, I stood in the doorway.
Staring at my donation box.
"Emotion wanted," the sign read.
I'm sure the anxiety was what was causing me to pause.
All week I've been stopping to double and triple-check every decision, worrying about every small step in between. It forged longer days, each moment of thought paralyzing me for minutes, sometimes hours. When the panic started to develop, that's when I stopped living altogether. Coming to a resolution shouldn't feel like life or death. But no matter the decision, every choice I made felt like I was dying inside.
Mentally I can't take it anymore. As much as I wanted to walk up to that donation box, I couldn't.
This is one of those paralyzing moments.
"I suppose this is better than anger," I thought.
It's the number one most donated emotion. For the first four months, that's all that I was granted. Anger.
I came in many forms. Suppressed, repressed, uncontrollable, it was awful.
Repressed hurt the most. Sometimes I could
sense what caused the person's repression. It'd just make me angrier, but all I did was avoid the anger. It was as if I had allowed someone to stab me and didn't even seek medical attention. Like bleeding out was better than acknowledging my wounds.
I know those people need help, just like those who can't control their anger.
The outburst, the headaches, the rage, those weeks I could detect when people were steering clear of me. One day I threw a fit because I couldn't find a pen. Something so small shouldn't cause such a reaction, but it did. I know that that type of anger is just put on display, hiding the real problem. I felt terrible for them; this world won't look past the outburst to extend a reaching hand to pull them out of the dark. And at some point, it'll all feel normal.
That's the scary part. Because that type of behavior is far from average.
One thing I've learned about anger is that it's not harmful. It's not this evil thing that comes and ruins your life. Instead, anger is an emotion that should be felt and validated. It's nothing to be ashamed of, but I can see why people hide it. The action people display while angry, that's. . . that's what people see, not the emotion.
As I continued to stare at the box, I noticed my hands starting to shake. That was the panic settling in; I was sweating. This anxiety was breaking me.
I finally took my first steps toward the donation box. My only thought hoping my next emotion wouldn't be sadness. Sometimes it causes depression, and I don't have the willpower to fight the urge not to kill myself after this anxiety. I just can't do it.
Sadness that caused depression was donated sparingly. My box was set up for seven months, and depression has been presented seven times. Each worse than the last. The first time I got it, the person was mourning. They Lost a child, I could tell.
I remember weeping uncontrollably. My body was cold . . . numb. I could hardly carry myself inside off the ground once the pain hit.
I could feel the agonizing thoughts of guilt, regret, and shame. Yet, I couldn't do anything. That person was hurting. I can only hope they made it past the pain. I hope donating to me helped them heal.
I want no human to experience the pain and suffering I was given, but they all were given to me by others.
I don't blame them. It hurts mentally and physically it hurt.
As I approached the box, I started to cry. Unsure of what emotion I would get next made me even more anxious. The tears felt cold, and my body felt even colder.
Despite the radiant sunshine, the sky seemed strangely dim. No clouds blocking its rays. The sound of nature pierced my head.
I reached out and began to open the box slowly, of course.
I took one last deep breath and looked inside.
As I glanced inside, my eyes were drawn to the sight of a neatly folded paper resting and the bottom of the box. The sight of it made my body tremble even harder.
As I reached out to grab the neatly folded paper, my eyes blurred from the downpour of tears I could feel the oncoming mental breakdown.
"It was just a piece of paper! " I tried telling myself. That seemed to only make the anxiety worse.
I finally gathered the willpower to grab the piece of paper resting at the bottom of the box.
My hands quivering.
My eyes flooded.
My breath short.
I finally unfolded the paper wiping my eyes clean, with shaking hands,
the word stared back at me.
"Happiness?" I said out loud.
"What is happiness?" I asked myself.
And just at that moment, the tears streaming down my face now felt surprisingly warm, as if my emotions were being gently caressed by the sun's rays. Looking up, I beheld a sky so bright and vibrant that it nearly blinded me. A feeling of tranquility washed over me as I closed my eyes and listened to the melodious chirping of birds, their harmonious tunes bringing a sense of calmness to my being.
A gentle breeze whispered across my skin, its cool touch adding to the surreal experience. Inhaling deeply, I caught the invigorating scent of freshly cut grass, filling my senses with its intoxicating fragrance. Opening my eyes, I found myself gazing down at the soft expanse of green beneath my bare feet. It was a sight that invited me to let go of my worries and immerse myself in nature's embrace.
As if in response to my contemplation, a single tear fell upon my foot, acting as a gentle reminder of my emotional state. In a whispered question, I uttered aloud, "Am I still crying?"
"People cry when they're happy?" I asked myself.
I've only experienced tears of sadness. This was magic.
The idea that tears could also be born from sheer joy and overwhelming happiness seemed like a magical revelation.
As I bent over, I immersed myself in the softness of the grass, sinking my hands into its dry blades. I spread my fingers apart, relishing the sensation as the grass tickled my skin. A joyous laughter burst forth from deep within me, a release of pure delight that echoed through the neighborhood.
Looking around, I saw my familiar surroundings with new eyes, as if they were adorned with a vibrant palette of colors and shimmering with newfound beauty. With an overflowing heart, I shouted my newfound realization to the world. "THIS IS GREAT!" I exclaimed, my voice carrying the weight of genuine happiness.
In that moment, warmth flooded through me, and tears of joy cascaded down my neck. It felt as if the sun itself resided within me, radiating its comforting glow throughout my being. All worries and doubts melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment.
As I observed the people around me, their smiles and laughter shining brightly, I wondered if this was the same euphoria they experienced. Did they too feel the weightlessness of pure bliss and the touch of sunshine within their souls? This newfound perspective sparked a deep connection with those around me, as if we were all united by the shared experience of embracing life's simple wonders and allowing ourselves to be consumed by unadulterated joy.
Who donated me happiness? And why?
Who would ever want to get rid of such a positive emotion?
My days would go faster with this emotion; a week would be a lifetime.
I stopped to wonder if the others who donated ever felt this way. Have they ever lived with happiness? Did they ever experience this, even if for a second? Is this something you chase? How do you "BE" happy? Can one choose to be this way, or is it cause and effect?
"And how long ago was that?"
My therapist asked, pulling me from my memory.
"Almost a year ago," I said in my sadness.
I held my head down and started to cry. Not the happy cry I longed for but the familiar cry of misery. I hated this . . . feeling . . . this emotion.
"Someone may be willing to give you happiness again sometime. But, until then, you should shut down your box."
"I can't; I want that feeling again.
I want to be happy!"
