Does anyone else feel sorry for weird things like me?

Question

I seem to have a problem with anthropomorphics..I often see objects that make me feel "sad"..such as a lunchbox left on a park bench or and partially eaten cookie that gets left behind..
Also, people make me feel sad, like when I see a guy sitting with his toes pointing at each other, or when you see someone's throat swallow when they are upset. Ahhhh! It makes me feel so sad! Anyone else weird like me?

Answer 1

You aren't weird, just sensitive.

I get that way too sometimes.

For me, there's something about neglected things, like the lunchbox, or unfinished food, like the cookie, that suggests a story. Why did he leave his lunchbox on the bench? Why didn't she finish the cookie? What distracted them? Was it good news? Did a friend come by and interest them in something else? Did they see someone in trouble and go to help?

Are you familiar with the paintings of Andrew Wyeth?

A sheer lace curtain blowing through a half-open window.

A scarecrow leaning in a fallow field.

A cross, traces of tattered garments blowing in the breeze: Another scarecrow? Christ's robes?

A weathered blue door the only color in a shadowy, sepia room, light focused on a tub, a bucket, and a mop handle.

Wyeth's paintings have always affected me at a deep level, somewhere between fascination and sadness. Many of them show things not finished or not begun, things abandoned or waiting to be claimed. They tug at me with the familiarity of the sea and the countryside and the strangeness of a world that exists as much in the mind as in the eye.

I remember one time in my younger and more stupid days when I was staying in a cheap, family-run motel somewhere between Baltimore and Miami, heading to Florida on spring break. For some reason, I was taken with the little trash can in my room, and I made a mental note to slip it into the trunk of my car when I left in the morning. The next day, as I picked it up and prepared to, well, steal it, I noticed there was a paper grocery bag inside to protect the trash can from the trash. (This was long before practically everyone lined their trash cans with plastic bags.) I put it back and left. How could I have stolen something that someone else cared about so much? To me, there was something pathetic about caring enough about that trash can to try to keep it clean -- especially since at the time I valued little more than meeting my immediate needs. But it made me a little sad.

Not long after that, a friend and I took a long drive to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. We arrived just after dark on a chilly Saturday, long-haired, unshowered, and hungry. Most of the downtown shops were closed; but we spotted a little diner on one corner of the square, parked illegally around the corner and, wearing our dirty jeans, college sweatshirts and sneakers, went in for dinner.

Shortly after we arrived, a family came in: a man, a woman, two children. He was wearing a suit. She was in a pink dress, her hair permed in the style of the day. The little boy wore a white shirt and tie; the girl a dress. All their clothes were frayed a bit, well worn. You could almost see where someone had patched over holes and tears in the fabric. But the clothes were clean and pressed. And their cheeks were red: From the chill? From a recent scrubbing in the bath?

They had just come into town from their farm, anticipating a big night out. This was important to them, and they dressed up for the event in their best clothes.

After the waitress brought them their dinners, the family said grace, and then began to eat.

I wondered how I could be sharing the same dining room with that family, for whom eating there was so important, when, for me, it was only another quaint-and-campy country joint and a burger and fries on the road.

And I thought about the trash can in the motel on the way to Miami. And I felt the same sadness and pathos.

You've reminded me of all this with your story about the lunchbox and the cookie. Thanks. I hadn't thought of Wyeth, or the trash can, or the restaurant for a while. They all bring back similar feelings.

Below are links to a few of Wyeth's paintings. If you're familiar with his works you may enjoy visiting some of them again. If you aren't, I hope you like the introduction.

Answer 2

Wow, I thought I was the only one! Once I told a friend about times when I was little and I would feel bad for certain toys cuz they weren't being played with, or sad for a certain chair cuz nobody wanted to sit in it.
She thought there was something wrong with me, but we both got a good laugh out of it.
I just think it's an overdeveloped sense of compassion. Learn to use it on real things that need help. It is a gift from God.

Answer 3

Yes. I feel sad when I see a pre-teen girl dressed up like a hooker. Or a beautiful woman with an ugly tattoo on her body. I feel sad when I see a man and woman out to dinner where the man is sweet and polite and the woman is raising cain. I feel bad when I see an old woman who's best friend is an old blind cat. I feel sad when I see parents not parenting or letting the kids be in control of them. I feel sad when I see a little child being yanked around or yelled at in public when they didn't do anything. The way their face drops just hurts me.

Answer 4

some of those are my pepeeves but yeah i can see where your coming from. im not sure though look at the brighter things in life because if such simple things make you sad imagine what things will make you happy!
the first violet blosoming in the spring, laughter, little kids running around and parents chasing behind, your friends, look into music- it really fits any mood and can really lift your spirits!

Answer 5

Not sure that's 'weird'. Probably are quite aware of things that no one else notices...you see a 'story' surrounding the person, place or thing you're feeling compassionate about?
Sounds like you're a creative person and should take to writing! ;)

Answer 6

I get upset when people leave their equipment out in the weather to rust and be ruined. If I let myself be open to all the sadness in the world, I would be depressed all the time.

Answer 7

I'm exactly like this!
I'm scared of spiders, but I feel SO sad if I smash one.

I never knew there was a name for it!

I feel sad for trees, and grass that are being trimmed and everything!

I guess we're both weird!

Answer 8

i have a similar problem. i don't think it's cuz you see them, but it's that it reminds you of something else, like a sad connection you make upon seeing that object. i see my dog's collar left on the floor and i cry. it's really interesting. also it might have something to do with pms.

Answer 9

I feel like everyone in my family acts that way... like you do. It's in me too sometimes, but I try to not let it get to me. Depending on the time of the month it can set me into tears, or I can hardly notice is. Just try to rationalize it to yourself each time... soon you'll get the hang of letting it not get to you.

Answer 10

yeah, I used to have that really bad when I was little. I'd feel bad for my toys that weren't played w/durning the day, so I'd pile them all into my bed so nobody was "left out", sometimes, it got so bad, that there was no room for me on my bed, and I would sleep on the floor!!! good thing I grew out of it....good luck!