The Unyielding Battle Against Apathy: Choosing to Care in an Overwhelming World
In a world filled with endless issues and complexities, it can often feel impossible to care about everything. The sheer volume of problems and the systems that seem to thwart our efforts can be overwhelming, making it exceedingly difficult to maintain a sense of happiness and contentment. It's no wonder that many of us succumb to depression, a condition that can manifest as a profound sense of incapacity to care.
Depression, as I see it, is marked by a deep-seated weariness, an exhaustion that leaves us bedridden and unmotivated. It is a struggle that we must confront within ourselves, seeking to heal and integrate it into our being. Yet, I've observed a different phenomenon among my clients, one that appears more insidious than depression. This is apathy, a state where individuals declare, "I just don't care anymore. I don't give a damn. I'm not going to do it."
Apathy, unlike depression, feels external. It wraps its tendrils around us like a warm, weighted blanket on the couch, beckoning us to stagnate, to abandon our authentic selves. It is a malevolent force, distinct from depression's mere annoyance. Apathy actively seeks to sabotage who we are.
This malicious aspect of apathy is cunning, tactful, and, most notably, convincing. It lures us into a trap that persuades us to rot away rather than engage with life. One of my clients aptly described it as a companion on the couch, waiting for us to wither away, for apathy to never be lonely. Apathy needs us to feed it, yet it will never be satisfied, and we end up surrendering ourselves before it does.
The uniqueness of apathy lies in its resistance to healing. Unlike depression, apathy does not yearn for healing; it craves the consumption of our very essence. So, what do we do with this external malevolence?
In child advocacy, we see a parallel in the challenges children face when recounting traumatic experiences in forensic interviews. These encounters are grueling and painful, but they are necessary for the children to understand their own power. By choosing to face their trauma and enter that room, they affirm their strength and resilience. Apathy, on the other hand, attempts to convince us that we are powerless and encourages us to remain small and stagnant. It seeks to strip us of our power, compelling us to stay on the couch in a warm, weighted blanket and rot away.
But what is the cost of rotting? When we opt for the easy way out, we relinquish our power to the very things that have harmed us. It is a passive re-traumatization, telling the world that it still wields power over us, a deeply traumatic experience in itself.
The journey of choosing to do the hard thing can be a lonely one. Apathy may offer companionship as we rock in our inertia, but it does not wish us well. It desires our ultimate decay, while we wrestle with the challenge of breaking free from its clutches.
Just as those children facing forensic interviews are not alone, we too can seek support when we confront the burden of apathy. We must make the choice to do the brave and difficult thing, to keep engaging with the world, even when it seems almost impossible.
In a world that often fails to support us fully, it's okay to say "enough" and take a step back. But there is a profound difference between saying, "I need a break," and "I don't care at all." Deep down, we do care, and it's natural to feel burnt out by the endless demands of the world. Yet, we must continue to care about ourselves and choose to be the best version of who we are.
Apathy may tempt us to stay on the couch, but it's up to us to rise and be the change we wish to see in the world. It's a struggle, but it's a fight worth undertaking.
The battle against apathy is not one that can be easily won, but it can be transformed through the power of safety and love. Safety, as defined within Maslow's hierarchy of needs or in the context of the Siksika (Blackfoot) way of life, is crucial. It provides the security of having fundamental necessities met, such as housing, water, and food, essential for human existence. However, it's important to recognize that these tangible needs alone cannot fully eliminate apathy, as there is no guarantee of security in love stemming solely from material possessions.
The missing piece of the puzzle lies in the security of love and connection. Living a life where basic needs are satisfied is insufficient to inspire a desire for life itself. What we truly need is a sense of security and connection, a yearning for love and belonging. Regrettably, in a world where love and connection are increasingly scarce, compounded by the fact that many struggle to attain their basic needs, the question of "Why bother?" looms large.
The future remains unpredictable when it comes to our tangible needs, and we cannot control external factors or systemic change. Similarly, we cannot force others to love us. However, what we can do is foster a love for ourselves. From this foundation of self-love, we can begin to build a life that is worth living. By nurturing our own sense of worth and connection, we can combat the pervasive apathy that threatens to consume us and, in doing so, pave the way for a brighter and more meaningful future.
