Sysiphus Meet Florence Nightengale, Flo meet Sysie

If there is one thing that I know it is that happy, whole people do not encroach upon others. The contented do not lash out nor do they do any purposeful damage. All the troubles and injustices in the world are an outward manifestation of someone's pain.

Well that just makes the world a playground for a little ol' caretaker martyr such as myself. It really is arrogant and pathetic of me to even fantasize about making things better when I can barely take care of myself. But if you've ever watched people you love fall apart (repeatedly) you'd know that it takes a hell of a lot of restraint to keep from dropping everything in your own life to rescue someone. What is incredibly hard for me to come to terms with is the fact that if I rush in, I'm really not helping at all. I'm just prolonging the agony.

But I've never really learned how else to be a "good" person. How do you love without sacrifice? For all the knocks in the teeth the rewards of "sainthood" are too enticing. What's worse is the addictive self loathing of knowing my motives are not so pure. I'm looking for validation and admiration and knowing that just makes me feel disgusting. Then comes the obligatory dismissive hand waving. What? Me? Oh it was nothing. You'd have done the same for me. Oh stop. You're embarassing me! Do you think it possible that Mother Theresa had this kind of self-loathing? Seeking the attention and then feeling so ashamed of your motives that you are driven to deny yourself that which you have so desperately sought?

Really. We are, none of us, saints.