I’m so desperately lost. And there’s no way out. The only way forward is to let go. Not necessarily of life, but of the kind of life I feel is worthwhile. Accept, and let go. And I can’t bring myself to do it. My mind stubbornly clings to delusional obsessions. Because if it’s not going to be how I imagined, I can’t see any meaning in it.
There may still be experiences worth having out there, if I could just let go of what is lost. But I can’t. I can’t bear to do it. I refuse to accept. And in refusing, I wear myself down. My mind tears itself apart, endlessly searching for ways to make what it knows is impossible a feasible option.
I cannot let go, because it’s the only story I’ve ever told myself that would make things ok. And if that’s gone, there’s just…nothing. Just me and the pain of this world. Alone. And I don’t know how to tolerate that – how to exist with the reality of it. If there’s nothing to compensate for the pain of this world, then it seems intolerable.
So I obsessively try to tell myself the lie. That there is some way, some how, that it can be brought about. And it will be like I imagine, and feel like I imagine, and in those moments, everything will somehow be ok again.
Same journey, though sometimes I lie to myself more effectively that I have let go, that certain things won’t bother me. I don’t think acceptance is something gotten through a denial of feelings, rather of bringing them to some successful conclusion, whatever that looks like.
I try to tell myself that I’m enough. I try to believe that. Like I said, sometimes it really seems like I’m succeeding at it.
Another idea I’ve had is that we need to anchor our personalities to something, for most humans that relates to career, and for me that isn’t an option. I guess that new identity for me is modern day hippie. It isn’t a role that provides much stability, but it is something I can believe in sincerely.
Maybe I’ll try altering the story I tell myself to hope that there can be some successful conclusion for these feelings, without trying to imagine how it could actually happen. Perhaps some day I will find a way to make it true.
That makes sense about the need to anchor your identity to something. Hippies are generally unobjectionable as groups of people go. I’m not sure there’s anything I sincerely believe in. My personality is too fragmented and conflicted for that – whatever identity I adopted, a large part of me would scream “bullshit!”