Is saying “I’m sorry” enough to convey empathy and sympathy?
Going through a tough and very debilitating event in my life so far, I often wonder if those two – or rather 3, considering I’m is a contraction of I am – words are enough to really let the other person know you feel what they feel.
Then, a supplementary questions leaps up inside my head. Are those I’m sorries sincere?
Do we really empathize when emphatic words come out of our mouths automatically?
Perhaps people tend to just blurt out such customary remarks when faced with that situation because it is expected of them. It is the norm and therefore people should follow it even if their hearts are not really into it, which in a way is sad because it only means that the level of empathy people feel nowadays is slowly diminishing. It is replaced by auto-responders that the recipient of said emphatic words feel bad about after a moment of analyzing it.
For weeks, I have been beset with condolences and such, not knowing who are pretending and who are not. My shrewdness surfaces its ugly head every time, unable for a moment to recede to its former hiding place. Now, rearing its monstrous head and is showing no signs of taking a backseat, my doubting self is beleaguered with annoyance and sadness.
I guess I would have to put aside those who have suffered a similar experience to have truly and sincerely offered their warmest empathies to me and my family. But for those I knew have not gone through such experiences, I am suddenly finding myself in doubt of their sincerity because it is so easy to say, “I’m sorry for your loss” or “My condolences.”
Then, I constantly picture them with masks of Batman’s Two Face every time I conjure them in my mind. It’s sickening. I know it is terrible and I might alienate those people if they knew what’s going on inside my head. But I can’t help it. It’s a perpetual and almost comical dilemma for me now and how apropos it is for the coming Halloween.
My sanity is metaphorically hanging down a precipice, just waiting for a black hole to swallow it up and never spit it out despite its corrupted state. The only recourse is for me to air it out through my blogs. Annoying as it may seem to some, but it is therapeutic for me.
We all live in a world of free-thinkers, and I am fully exercising my right as one.