Pity Party

One must wonder, what is the purpose of a pity party? You sit there, wallowing in sea of unhappiness, which is basically never an enjoyable experience, yet when some suggest you get up and leave, you refuse. That was probably a run on sentence. Anyway, it's a mystery to me.

I have no room to criticize others for this nasty habit, as I am one of the worst perpetrators I have ever met. I possess the impressive ability to dwell on a single incident for years. Even so, a simple thought, the flash of a memory, the whisper of a remembrance, and my mood shifts so drastically, I might s well have spawned my own raincloud.

I wonder why I do this. Is there some backwards chemical process that makes this state of mind addictive? Why else would I seek to return to this state of being time and again? Even worse, why would I constantly endeavor to bring others with me?

A happy conversation, rife with puns and good humor, turns south because I cannot, or do not stop my traitorous fingers form delivering the hint of negativity. It would have been better had the other party never been informed of my state of mind. It is one thing to mope around and drown yourself in your own struggles, but it is quite another to involve a friend, a confidante. I suppose one could make an argument for friendship and being able to rely on one another, or some such nonsense, but it could also be said that including the second party is a direct attempt to cause another suffering.

How sick is that? And yet, it is possible. Maybe I have some sick fascination with seeing other people concerned for me. Maybe some selfish part of me seeks affirmation of others' affections. To know that someone would be offended on my behalf, worry for me, care about how I feel, be concerned about my suffering. Maybe I get some queer sort of satisfaction knowing that someone else out there thinks I'm worth it.

But that's wrong, and completely unfair to whoever is hurt at my expense. It is selfish. Crude. Wrong. And the practice of one who is weak. Too weak for reality. Too weak to deserve the friends that care for her.

So, I'll just go back to moping around and hope I have the common sense, or at least the decency, not to involve another.