A little nugget of wisdom that floated to the top of my consciousness on my way home today:
You can't save the whole world. But if you're really lucky, maybe you can save yourself.
I've been accused of playing the martyr before. And I know I do it, tho I'll deny it when faced with the question. So why do I continue? Maybe it has something to do with how suffering and sacrifice are easier to bear if there is a purpose behind it. Everyone suffers; that's the nature of existence. If I pretend that it will bring about a greater good (even if it's self-imposed), I can stand to take a little more.
And as for saving myself... been there, done that. Still doing that, really. I'm a lot of things. Idealist, hopeless romantic, occasional cynic, moody, confused... yeah. All that fun stuff. And I'm not likely to change. In spite of that, I am apparently still likable. Funny how that works.