Lexi-Crisis II 'Empathy'

 Dear Reader,

I am Story and I have a tale to share with you. It’s about our last Christmas party in which Empathy had a bit of an identity crisis. 

Before I start, I need to inform you about a technicality. In Greek some words are female, some male, and some are actually non-binary. For example, Enigma and Chaos reflect the later. I will refer to them as such.

 

‘Once upon a Christmas time, I decided to leave everything behind me, to move to foreign lands, and to obtain a new name for myself,’ Empathy said.

‘But, alas, being “Me” and kinda, you know, “what” I am, I realised that I could not really change my name. I cannot change myself. “People don’t change,” they say. Luckily, we’re not people, but still... It took centuries of preparation.

So, anyway, I managed to change the very definition of what I am. Since the “whom” could not be replaced without eliminating myself, I completely transformed my individuation 180 degrees in direction, or something.

I won't pretend that it was easy; it wasn't. I had to totally lose connection with my previous self—the one I left behind.’

'Hey, Empathy! Aren't you tired of listening to yourself telling that story again? Cause I can reassure you we are all very tired of hearing that story.' said the drunk Antipathy.

'For example,' continued Empathy, keeping her calming tone, 'in my old days, or even today, the part of me that stayed back where I came from—and I would not empathise with her—I would have taken it personally, and perpetuate the argument, only by throwing oil in the fire, as they say, and I would have missed the opportunity to bond more with you people. You know, for me, it's important to keep contact with the youth. You, second-generation kids, you grew up here. And, you were born in an epoch that was only an eschatological future for the rest of us. You have so much to teach us all. By the way, where is that girl, Epoch?’

Telegraph, Telephone and Television were already feeling so old that it felt ridiculous to them to still be treated as children by the older generation of the 'Greek words in the English vocabulary' little community.

But, that particular story that Empathy had is a ritual she repeated every Christmas, one that no one really liked.

Before Empathy had a chance to continue, Courage approached and asked to sit with them.

‘Sure,’ she replied.

‘Who brought them here?’ said the Greek Empathia that had come to visit London for Christmas travelling in the mouth of some Greek student’s mum that hated her Italian son-in-law. ‘They’re not even Greek!’

Empathy was equally surprised by the presence of Empathia. She felt as if she had seen a ghost from the past.

‘Two of a kind! What’s in their mind?’ Enigma said, believing themselves to be very witty.

Narcissism found the situation to be perfect for a bit of gaslighting practice. He always wanted to make sure that his skills are in good shape for the sake of his partner, Martyr.

‘This was supposed to be a Greek-exclusive New-Year’s-Eve party, Empathy. I thought of all the Words you wouldn’t be the one creating problems.’

Empathia was furious. Arriving in the mouth of someone hating Italians had influenced her against Latin words. ‘Where is Patriot when you need him?’ she asked Television.

‘I think I saw him with Politic, Strategy, and Tactic, a while ago. They were looking for Economy.’

Courage felt very insecure, yet boldly pulled the chair over and sat down.

‘I am the plus-one of Hero. As far as I know, each invitation stated that it was for two.’

Empathia insisted her obligations. ‘You are an immigrant in Greece. We don’t want immigrants here. Go next door to the Latin-Words party.’

‘What are you even talking about? First of all, we are all immigrants here, get some perspective,’ replied Courage. ‘And then…’

‘I am not an immigrant. I am just a tourist,’ Empathia interrupted them.

‘Then go to a party for tourists, or a false-friends party maybe’ said Chaos, as they were passing by, while at the same time they pulled Empathia from the waist, and started dancing, rubbing themselves on her, to everyone’s astonishment, and at the end they licked her ear.

Empathia slapped them. Chaos burst into unstoppable laughter. Narcissism was trying to think of something to say, but felt overwhelmed by the possibilities and, before he managed to pick one, was pulled away by Porn.

Porn was making a film in the venue’s restroom, but it turned out that Hedonism was too drunk to perform. So, the movie needed a new protagonist. Of course, Porn knew better than telling Narcissism that he asked Eros first—but was rejected. At least Eros had agreed to help with the script.

Narcissism was honoured by the invitation but had other plans for his night. Though he wasn’t sure yet which victim would give him more pleasure. So many at that party seemed to beg for his abuse. For example, Masochism was just passing by.

Empathy felt she was going to be sick. All that drama was too overwhelming for her. ‘By the way, where is that girl?’ she thought. She excused herself and moved to the restroom.

As she walked, she spotted Drama. ‘Oh, there she is,’ she thought. ‘That’s a bit solipsistic. Maybe I should avoid big parties. They usually feel like a bad dream.’

Drama approached. ‘Have you seen Tragedy?’ she asked. ‘She said she’d bring me a drink, but it’s been half an hour, and now I can’t find her anywhere. I lost her. I lost my best friend. I might never see her again. What am I going to do without her?’ she cried, bursting into tears.

Before Empathy could comfort her, Sarcasm and Irony came and started picking on Drama. Empathy felt so bad for her, but there wasn’t really much she could do. Plus, she was so fed up emotionally by now—even if the night was still very young—that she really needed a break, so she kept walking.

When she entered the restroom, she was shocked. It’s not that she was puritanical on principle, but still. She was a proper lady and couldn’t help herself but get offended by such a sight.

Hedonism, having the hiccups and naked, was holding a glass of wine. Porn was back from his unsuccessful quest for a new protagonist, and was begging, also unsuccessfully, to take the glass away from Hedonism. Orgasm was getting irritated and was packing his stuff to leave. Porn turned to him and started begging him to stay. No one noticed Empathy walking in. Eros and Fantasy were making notes on the script. Orgy was scrolling on their phone, and Idol started shouting.

‘You promised me I’ll be a star, but you should have called Parody instead. That’s what this is. I’m leaving,’ and she headed to the door, while Porn was trying to chase her.

It was at this moment that he noticed Empathy frozen and the idea came to him—Idea was at the time talking with me at the bar. All he had to do was to show Empathy, very honestly, his desperation, and she surely wouldn’t resist taking Idol’s place. Maybe, she would even do a better job than her helping Hedonism to perform.

Long me short, it didn’t take much effort for Empathy to get involved; quite unwillingly and with a lot of self-shame. However, she just couldn’t resist feeling bad for Porn’s feelings of failure. She couldn’t resist trying to make him feel better.

Just when she started to remove her clothes, Ethos opened the door.

‘What in Hades’ name is wrong with you? Should we have a trial every Christmas now? How did you manage to trick this girl into participating in that atrocity?’ they said. And, turning to Empathy, they ordered, ‘put your cloths back on and let’s get you out of here. I’ll deal with them latter.’

Almost dragging her, they brought her to Psychology and Therapy’s table, and then explained to them what was happening in the restroom. ‘You need to help her somehow. This is getting out of hand. She has no sense of boundaries.’ Psyche was also on the table and went off to collect her husband and their offspring.

Psychology put her wine-with-water glass on the table and took her notepad out of her bag. Therapy took Empathy’s pulse.

Her heart was beating like crazy, and she was completely numb from embarrassment, and just stared at Therapy’s white shoes.

‘Tell me Empathy,’ Psychology started, ‘why do you struggle to say “no” to people? “No” is a full sentence, as they say. What stops you from setting boundaries? Or, did you willingly get involved in what happened in the restroom? This table is all about acceptance and confidentiality.’

‘I just don’t want to become like my predecessor again,’ Empathy whispered to her own surprise. Was that all she was? She thought her compassion was more genuine than running away from her ghosts of the past.

‘Could you repeat that a bit louder please?’ Psychology was known to have hearing issues, and the party was getting louder as Ethos was gathering everyone to deal with Porn and the rest of them.

‘I feel terrible when I see people suffering, or even just struggling. I feel their pain and the unstoppable need to relieve them. It’s like if I don’t, the cosmos will end.’

‘Are you sure that it is them you want to help, or is it possible that, since you absorb their feelings, it is you that you want to comfort?’ Psychology asked and immediately checked her wine to see if it really was diluted with water—that was a question not to ask a client so straight forward and so soon.

‘What? Are you saying that I don’t really care about anyone but myself?’

Therapy offering Empathy a glass with wine that she had slipped some calming meds into. ‘I think what Psychology meant is that sometimes you need to face discomfort and painful feelings. And, that you—out of good will, of course—may be depriving yourself and others of opportunities to increase their resilience in these negative feelings.’

‘I just don’t want people to think that I still share Empathia’s character traits. I really feel their pain, but …’ she stopped, her voice trailing off.

‘But, it is essentially you that wants to take their burden from them when you try to help them. Isn’t that it?’ Psychology suggested.

After confronting Empathy, Psychology realized that, apparently, there wasn’t really much water in her wine. ‘Whatever,’ she thought. Maybe she could use that as an experiment. Or just take a break one day. She didn’t really share Empathy’s empathy. She knew if she did, she wouldn’t be able to stay sane in her job for long.

That was when I popped up at their table. I was going from table to table, collecting material for narratives.

‘Hello, Story. Please have a sit with us,’ Empathy begged. She started sharing to me not only the incident tonight, but also her inner conflicts and deepest thoughts.

Psychology was astonished. She was taking notes, drinking more wine, and mumbling to herself.

I turned to Empathy and remarked, ‘I think this is an exceptional talent, sweetie, your being able to feel other people. Nonetheless, you have to use it wisely. Maybe our friend here can help you learn to set boundaries, but no one should make you feel bad about being kind. Your ability to feel for others is exactly what someone needs to write a story. How do you think writers are able to convey to the readers different characters’ points of view and to write dialogues of a conflict, for example? To make a story—and believe me I am the expert on that matter, obviously—you need to empathize with participants in it. Otherwise, it’s not a story; it’s propaganda. Would you like to work with me and Idea on a project? Maybe you’ll find it … therapeutic.’

At that point, Therapy excused herself and went to sell drugs to Hedonism and his friends. It was obvious that she wasn’t needed there any more.

 

That is our Christmas lexi-crises story for now. We’ll be back with more lexi-stories, at some point, perhaps. 

Until then you can read about our previous lexi-crisis story. 

Stay safe and take care.