This persistent little voice reasoned with me that Sarah (another close friend who is paralyzed from the waist down due to a riding accident two years ago) is the same Sarah as before the accident only now sitting down, and she manages perfectly fine with her handicap. Of course no one wants their limbs seized from them, but many people learn to deal with it. My professor Laura Mandell pointed out, "Sometimes the violence of pathos indicates weak rather than excessive feelings, as if the person were trying to make up for their own coldness through overcompensation." I think I believed this before Laura said anything, but I felt too judgmental and cruel actually expressing this on paper when talking about a good friend. Again, I was insincere in an attempt to hide my true feelings. Anyway, these were the thoughts coursing through my head as I listened to Lindsey's woeful account (when I wasn't counting the hours left to finish all my work, of course). It wasn't hard to acknowledge that my comforting words were insincere.
I tried to somewhat express my unpleasant views to Lindsey so I wouldn't be a total hypocrite, but my intonation was much kinder than the thoughts pounding in my head. I explained to her that Sarah accepted her paralysis and affected everyone she met with her contagious cheerfulness. I also emphasized that at least her friend was still alive, because another passenger hadn't received such a "lucky" fate. I was irrationally angry with Lindsey for only focusing on the negative aspects and forgetting the obvious-her friend is still alive. I was also indignant with her negative view of paralysis, because it seemed to be a sort of jab at my friend Sarah (of whom I'm very protective). But these thoughts were totally absurd. In retrospect, the secret admonitions justified my desire to retreat to my secluded room so I could once again resume my studies. However, Laura also challenged my thinking on this simple analysis: "Erin, maybe you really were angry with and upset by your friend's outburst: maybe your eye on your homework wasn't hypocrisy so much as some necessary distance from the very distressing scene in front of you." I think Laura is correct in this breakdown of my writing, but once again I was too ashamed to actually articulate these thoughts and therefore reverted to insincerity.
My lack of sincerity was undeniable; my feelings and words clashed irrefutably. I felt guilty for this hypocritical contradiction, so in my remorse I tried to provide some logical services. While Lindsey was on the phone with her mother, I printed out directions to the hospital in Kentucky where her friend was undergoing surgery. Then I snuck back up to my room while she was still on the phone, silently blessing the opportune chance to escape without looking like an insensitive jerk.