I'm not normally a cynical person or a sarcastic writer. Quite the opposite, actually. But when inspiration strikes...
How to crush your own soul in three easy steps:
1) Develop a passion for something fascinating and wonderful.
2) Develop an illness that prevents you from pursuing that passion.
3) Obsess about not being able to pursue that passion until you want to die.
I followed this easy formula, and it worked for me! Here's my story.
Ever since I was a tiny boy, I have loved animals. Really loved them. I mean really loved them. I know most kids love animals, and I'm glad they do. But for me, it was more than an interest. It was a passion, even a calling. All I wanted to do was watch them, play with them, talk about them, read about them, write about them, draw them, and sculpt them. Dogs, cats, horses, turtles, frogs, fish. It didn't matter. I was completely and thoroughly fascinated and inspired by them. When I thought about the future, I considered becoming a veterinarian, zoologist, documentarian, or nature writer. Any and all of these were exciting prospects to me.
Sadly, these proved to be unrealistic fantasies. As I grew up, I came to realize that I had serious atopy. What is atopy? It is the collective disorder of allergies, asthma, and eczema (atopic dermatitis). Atopy varies in severity, from a few mild allergies, to a whole suite of potentially life-threatening immunological hypersensitivity problems. I had hoped that my problem would fall closer to the benign end of the spectrum, but it turned out to be farther along on the serious end of things.
Never mind that atopic kids are the epitome of delicate geekiness. That wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't for the fact that atopy can prevent you from doing something you love, namely, being with animals. Well, an atopic kid like me could be around animals, but only if he were willing to risk death by asphyxiation from status asthmaticus.
When I was growing up, people told me that I should hang in there, that there were far worse things, and that it wasn't so bad. It was nice of them to say that, and it was basically true, and it was encouraging. They also told me that I might grow out of my allergies and that everything could turn out great. That, as it turns out, was a myth. People don't really outgrow atopy. They may outgrow a few allergies here and there, and they may improve in certain areas, which I did do, but they never really get over the disorder as a whole.
If you've got really dry, eczematous skin as a kid, you'll always have it. you're asthmatic, you'll always be asthmatic. If you have numerous or severe allergies, then I regret to inform you, but you will always have them. You may take medicine to cope with these problems, and thankfully, you may naturally improve as well. But if you're atopic, then you'll always be atopic, and the sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be. Unless you're like me, and you're actually trying to crush your own soul.
I'm a stubborn person by nature. You can call it determined, but I call it stubborn. Once I start something, I don't quit. I just don't. Even if it kills me. Starting things may be a challenge, but finishing them is a no-brainer. That's one of the reasons I have been in the business of crushing my own soul for the past twenty years.
When these physical limitations on my well-being began asserting themselves, I was reluctant to accept them. In fact, I was in denial. I told myself, "These doctors can say what they want, but I'm not going to let this get me down." Apparently, I thought I was being resilient and optimistic. In retrospect, however, I now see that I was burying my head in the sand and living in a fantasy world.
I was determined to continue being with animals. I stayed with people who had dogs, cats, or other furry pets, and ignored my watering eyes, runny nose, itchy skin, and wheezing lungs. Ignored them, that is, until I had to take emergency medicine or go home. I continued to ride horseback, even wearing protective clothing to guard against the dander in the horses' fur. On several actions, however, my allergic reactions were so severe that I was afraid for my life.
But these things passed, and I would always blithely resolve to try harder, explore more alternatives, and not give up on my dream. I was always inspired by those cases the media loves to hold up as role models: the amputee who runs a marathon, the paraplegic who sky dives, the blind artist, or the deaf teacher. Of course, it is wonderful to see people overcome barriers such as these. But I was too stubborn to realize that my problem was not their problem. My problem was different.
In school, I studied zoology, which I found fascinating. There were a few setbacks now and then, a few limitations to what experiments I could safely conduct, but I persevered. I left my hometown of
To top it all off, I discovered another obstacle, this one more psychological, even spiritual, than physical. I realized that I hated harming animals in the name of research. I tried to explain this belief away. I found biology fascinating, and sacrificing a few animals in the lab could benefit so many people through biomedical research, or help many other creatures through environmental research. Right? Well, perhaps, but that didn't change the fact that I didn't want to harm animals. After all, I had entered the field of zoology because I loved animals and because wanted to help them, not simply to chop them up and see what they were made of.
As interesting as science was, I could not rationalize my conduct. Together with my health problems, I found myself in dire straits. I was in a profession that I not only was not physically suited for, but which I also found morally reprehensible. I went through an identity crisis, became depressed, and withdrew. That was in 2002, only about five years ago.
I spent the next three years in a desperate attempt to figure out who the hell I was, what I was doing, and what I wanted. To was disappointed to think of myself as a "drifter" or someone who was "searching for himself," but that's what I was. I was lost, and I had to find myself. I spent a year studying visual art, and paid attention to my creative side, which I had thoroughly ignored for years. I worked as a full-time teacher, but found that I was not particularly suited to that, either. Then I found a job working in another lab, but
that experience was disappointing, too.
So, I moved back to my hometown of
In June 2007, my series of post-apocalyptic novels, The Feral World, was accepted for publication by Flying Pen Press. These books are about people who live in harmony with nature, and who go on an incredible journey across an exotic, wild
So, as you can see, if you do decide to crush your own soul, sooner or later, you're going to have to figure a way to uncrush it. Of course, it will never regain its original shape, but then, we're supposed to change a bit as we go through this world, aren't we?
All sarcasm aside, I hope you will learn from my misadventures and choose not to crush your own soul. Choose to appreciate the wonder of the world around you. Choose to really get to know the people and your life, and appreciate them. And choose to be flexible. Be determined, yes. Be ambitious, sure. But don't ignore the truth. If there is something you want, go for it. If there are obstacles in your path, find ways around them. But don't keep banging your head against the wall just to get to the other side.
Yes, it is sad if you have a passion for something and you can't have it. But that doesn't mean you can't find joy in other things. In fact, it doesn't even mean you can't find a way to enjoy that thing, either. Be as involved as you can, but don't torture yourself if it's not in the way you would have liked. In my case, I still enjoy nature, I still watch animals, and I still love writing about them in my novels. I have simply had to adapt, and that's really all I had to do in the first place.
There are plenty of fascinating things to learn about in this world, so there's no need to focus so narrowly on one thing that you become blind to everything else. Be flexible, be open to new things, and then you won't have to get your soul crushed. That's pretty good news after all, isn't it?
Gaddy Bergmann
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