So...I need to figure out how to accept joyless agony.
It appears that joyless agony is the state of my life sometimes, that my chemistry or my evil memories take me there. So I need to stop trying to escape it and just be peaceful with it, just bear up under the pain.
Take measured steps to shift it, be kind to myself, avoid beating up on myself...but give up entirely the idea of suicide and accept that I choose not to escape the hell. That the hell happens. That I accept this hell and live not for my own sake but for the sake of others who love me, and whom I need to do a good job of loving...since that is what I am here to do.
To live and love the people I live for, and accept that I will hurt horribly sometimes, because I just do. That death would come as a relief. But that I reject taking my own life, and therefore must find a way to bear my pain and to love through it properly.
I feel so odd thinking that I need to live for other people. I guess at bottom I am selfish...and I'm asking myself to give that up, to face an absolutely awful pain, over and over and over...
And it's for those that love me, and not for myself, because I know that my life does not seem to be worth this devastating pain I have to cycle through.
I guess I have to do this. I am afraid, I feel so unable to go soldiering on in this overwhelming wreck of an existence.
I know I am not worth this struggle.
You know who you are to whom I say this: I love you.
I go by Hylierandom. This is a blog about my life. Which might actually be getting better. Some of the posts are going to be really sad and triggery though. Guaranteed to contain lots of brain flakes, which are really nutritious and will help you go to the toilet easily.
1 comment:
youch but beautifully stated. unremitting pain that just does not stop and learning to live with it. youch. joyless agony. not there now but was for yrs on endand you have captured that feeling here and testified it. I hope you know you are not alone or the only one and all the -- gasp -- good you do me by articulating stuff that so often just disappears, wordless. just like abusers hope it will, that we go down carrying all their crap. for a while i think i lived just to spite them. got me through the night a few times.
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