God, I’m wondering where the process of pain started and where it clustered up so much, that my soul tossed the leftovers onto a pile of great shame. And these would just never be picked up again, because there was a lot to digest at the time. I’m wondering whether it is too late, to work through them now. Is it the origin of my distrust and overemotional behavior?
Today I replayed a scenario from my past and I took it apart and changed it. It’s unfortunate, I couldn’t be in control back then. It’s a rather happy memory actually. And I know, it could’ve been even better, so good that it would’ve been life-changing! I haven’t felt this alive in a decade or so. The worst is, I didn’t know! I just kept going on, abandoning all hope. Why does it feel like there’s a big rubber band strung to me, as I’m trying to move forward?
No one can even begin to grasp the meaning of this f*cking deep hole I dug for myself. I don’t know where to begin and there also seems to be no ending. I’m devastated. And at the same time, I’m going to lose myself in this memory. I want to feel something else than being terrified all the time! I want to feel more than the endless nothing!!!
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I don’t remember where I got it, only that it isn’t mine; if you’re still breathing, then it isn’t too late.
at the same time, there are some things that are not possible to control, some things can’t be forced. You don’t have to be the way you are now, but wishing for a specific outcome might be setting yourself up for dissappointment. If the outcome is better, that’s as good as it gets, I’m saying. And also, sometimes it takes awhile or is not as much better. That goes with inviting in change.
there’s no way out but through, that’s one of my mantras when I’m afraid, or tired. I think about two specific situations;
#1. We were on a 40 mile overnight hike through some of the steepest terrain I’ve ever hiked. I remember coming to the top of this one really awful hill and everyone was just wrecked. I remember one of the most intense fears I’d ever felt at that point; being hours into the woods, and the only person that could carry me out was me. I was lucky to have friends with me that day, but the challenge of walking out was all mine. We finished most of the hike that night, the next day we hiked back out and I felt I had conquered myself.
#2 I used to snow ski, usually alone and on intermediate difficulty slopes. This one trip I had worked around to an out of the way run, I was the only one in the area. The thing about downhill skiing is once you’ve set yourself up for a run, you’re pretty much in it. Yes, there’s ski patrol, but they’re pretty busy saving people with injuries.
So I completed the first 20% of this particular bit of terrain, and it was ice. It was ice and steeper than I’d ever gone down in that condition. That first bit put me on the ground, not injured, but feeling pretty defeated. But it was just me. I couldn’t climb back up. I had to go down. I don’t remember being afraid, but this one comes back to me when I feel trapped. In the end I skiied as slowly as was physically possible the rest of the way down.
Since then; no way out but through. You can manipulate that path sometimes, take it at a speed that is easier, but sometimes you’ve got to face that obstacle. When it comes to it, the sooner it is over the better, and you realize there’s more to you than you expected when you make it out the other end.
That’s what it looks like to me, where you’re at. You’re at one of those places you’ve got to find what it takes to survive. You’re capable of it, because you’re willing to change. I’m hoping what you need is a pat on the back, and some encouragement, but anything else I can offer to help, I’m willing to give.
Regardless of whether that was what you needed, I want you to know I see you, and I’m sorry for the pain you’re in. Sometimes the isolation is the worst part.