Unaiding Realization

Well, I seem to have figured out (through a conversation with my friend Derrek) what my problem is. I am an empath. Of all the things I thought the problem could be, being an empath was the last thing I would have thought of. I have noticed that most of the emotions that I feel are the result of the emotions being experienced by those around me, mostly because I try to help everyone deal with their problems. The thing is, I often forget about my own problems while seemingly assimilating to the problems of others. By helping others, I guess, I see more and more problems with myself. It's like emotional hypochondria, almost. And short of changing every shred of personality and morality I possess, I will always be as such. This personal epiphany doesn't really help me, though. It just puts a label on it. It does lift some weight, I guess. At least I know what's wrong with me, instead of having that omnipresent "Why?" always lingering. I do exert far too much effort attempting to solve the emotional distresses of others. I'm not content with just listening to peoples' problems, I need to solve them. That's the biggest problem. I need to solve problems. I guess that's why I want to be a philosopher: my only goal would be to solve the most difficult problems there are. Now I guess the next "Why?" I will have to work through is "Why am I an empath?" Is it the fact that I have lived through more difficult times than others and have the experience that they lack, and trying to help them gain the knowledge of their particular experience sooner? I mean, they'll get it eventually, but it's always nice to have someone help you through. Or is it the fact that I can't stand to see people sad? But that would come back to being an empath; when others are happy, I am happy. Or is it possible that my traditional upbringing, which has taught me to help who I can, is coming back to bite me in the ass? I can't help too many people with tasks that require strength because, quite frankly, I'm a 6'1", 150 lb., scrawny white-boy. After sitting around for too long, that atrophy thing will get to you. Maybe I am an empath because no one was around to help me when I was going through hard times. But now I fear I may be getting too specific. It's probably a cumulation of all these things. You know, ignorance really is bliss. If someone would have taught me earlier in life to be obedient and not to ask "Why?", I probably wouldn't be in this situation right now. But then I wouldn't have anywhere near the knowledge I have. And now we're back to the old Wisdom vs. Happiness debate. Gah! I'm starting to spout platitudes. Oh well. Shit happens. No more "Why?"s for tonight. Adieu. Josh