I want to write this... but I'm not really sure how, at the moment... I've been struggling with my mind, lately. I've been struggling with urges of self-harm. I've been struggling with my heart, and where I want to go in life. I'd looked into the lock box I keep my meds in, after having refilled my pill boxes. I grabbed a half of an edible, and several hours later, here I am.
I can feel everything. I feel as though I am more hyper-aware of my five senses, allowing me to feel each and every minute sensation in complete detail. I feel more aware. I float beneath my eyes, from the vantage of the third eye, watching, feeling everything around me. I can feel so deeply, it reaches into another dimension.
I started watching an episode of Bones where the forensic anthropologist interns are tasked with identifying remains previously deemed unidentifiable. One of the remains becomes the primary focus because it was found to be directly related to 9/11. A homeless man, previously a Desert Storm veteran, was forgotten in our history, and the interns work to give this skeleton, this man... his life back. It's a tearjerker for even those not familiar with the series, I guarantee. They all recall the exact snippet of their lives in which 9/11 occurs. I couldn't help, after monologue after monologue, burst into tears.
The longer I endured crying about my own memories, suddenly unlocked and profoundly powerful, of 9/11 in my own life, the more I began to realise that my tears were for something else entirely. Officially, I arrived to the mutual severance of my longest and most profound relationship ever before. The show unlocked a gate to my true feelings in my life at this time.
I cried and grieved for a relationship lost. I grieved in acknowledgement of the profound power this loss has had in my life. I grieved for a love deeper than I had ever felt before. I acknowledged the profound nature of this transition and new path.
Every inch of growth is a profound rebirth.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Thursday, May 7, 2015
The Struggle of Struggling
Why is admitting to having a struggle so... well, much of a struggle? Why does it seem so impossible to change our perceptions of struggle being weakness? Largely, I would say, it is from past experiences when we admitted to struggling, or even just tested the waters with a small glimpse suggesting we might be struggling. After hearing phrases like, "Get over it," or "Pull yourself up by the bootstraps," or even "I'm so sorry for you!", we simply equate struggle of any kind to weakness. In our eyes, according to the clandestine, unspoken rule of society, we are never supposed to struggle. No, struggle means you're failing, and failing means you ARE a failure. This is why it's so difficult.
So what do those of us who are struggling do? Many need help, but are far too reluctant to ask for any. Their burdens become buried deep within the heart, eating away at the soul like wood rot setting in. If we do this for too long, our very foundations become so rotted and weak that we simply fall apart and collapse within ourselves. There is also another reason for not wanting to share that one is struggling: we don't want to be a 'burden' to others. It is this thought that we should never have to rely on others, let alone add any extra burden to their lives, but that is what is most important about having others in our lives. We are not social creatures who form bonds and communities because we are completely self-sufficient. No, we do this so that we can rely on one another when the need arises, and yet we don't. We continue to suppress our feelings and bury them deeply within ourselves.
I've noticed a common theme, in that those who take on everyone else's burdens bury their own burdens deep inside as to not burden anyone else. So carrying all of one's own burdens, and the burdens of others, becomes so impossibly exhaustive and destructive that we either implode or explode. Neither is good at all. We empaths, who connect on the deepest levels with others, and who feel a sense of duty and devotion to help relieve the world of sorrow and darkness, well... we try to stuff all of that sorrow and darkness within ourselves. We often feel that our purpose in life is not to ever be happy, but to soak up all of the darkness in the world that we can so that others don't have to have darkness in their lives, but this is an impossible, Sisyphean feat which could never be truly accomplished. No matter how good our intentions, no good truly comes of this self-destructive cycle. It eats away at us, one little nibble at a time.
So, in conclusion, we all need to try to lean on others a little more. We need to seek help more, confide in others more, and not be so afraid to share our struggles with others. But, in this same spirit, we should also try our best to help ourselves out of the struggle, and not rely wholly on others. Neither extreme is good or healthy in any way. A balance must be attained where everyone can feel safe to share their burdens, yet a commitment to also try to solve those burdens. It's never a bad thing to need to ask for help.
So what do those of us who are struggling do? Many need help, but are far too reluctant to ask for any. Their burdens become buried deep within the heart, eating away at the soul like wood rot setting in. If we do this for too long, our very foundations become so rotted and weak that we simply fall apart and collapse within ourselves. There is also another reason for not wanting to share that one is struggling: we don't want to be a 'burden' to others. It is this thought that we should never have to rely on others, let alone add any extra burden to their lives, but that is what is most important about having others in our lives. We are not social creatures who form bonds and communities because we are completely self-sufficient. No, we do this so that we can rely on one another when the need arises, and yet we don't. We continue to suppress our feelings and bury them deeply within ourselves.
I've noticed a common theme, in that those who take on everyone else's burdens bury their own burdens deep inside as to not burden anyone else. So carrying all of one's own burdens, and the burdens of others, becomes so impossibly exhaustive and destructive that we either implode or explode. Neither is good at all. We empaths, who connect on the deepest levels with others, and who feel a sense of duty and devotion to help relieve the world of sorrow and darkness, well... we try to stuff all of that sorrow and darkness within ourselves. We often feel that our purpose in life is not to ever be happy, but to soak up all of the darkness in the world that we can so that others don't have to have darkness in their lives, but this is an impossible, Sisyphean feat which could never be truly accomplished. No matter how good our intentions, no good truly comes of this self-destructive cycle. It eats away at us, one little nibble at a time.
So, in conclusion, we all need to try to lean on others a little more. We need to seek help more, confide in others more, and not be so afraid to share our struggles with others. But, in this same spirit, we should also try our best to help ourselves out of the struggle, and not rely wholly on others. Neither extreme is good or healthy in any way. A balance must be attained where everyone can feel safe to share their burdens, yet a commitment to also try to solve those burdens. It's never a bad thing to need to ask for help.
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