I think that the worst part about pain and grief, is that it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make a difference how deep your pain is, how hard you cry, or how loud you plead – it’s got you, it won’t let you go until it’s finished with you, and your circumstances will remain unchanged. Your grief won’t bring back a dead loved one. It won’t make a lover stay. It won’t fix betrayal; you just have to sit with it while it comes over you like relentless waves crashing into you until you’re battered and bruised, your throat is full of bile, your mind and soul are shattered, and you don’t know which way is up or down. In the beginning, you’ll only have short moments to catch a quick breath; just enough oxygen to keep you alive for the next onslaught of waves to tear you apart. You can’t run away from it. You can fight, scream, vomit, and kick if you want to. It won’t change a damn thing. It’ll just tire you out faster, and you’ll hurt more. You’re helpless. You have to give in to it and let it take you for a while.
It gets easier with time. The pain isn’t as intense and it doesn’t consume your entire existence. The gaps of normalcy and happiness in between become bigger. You have room to breathe again. It never fully leaves you, but it becomes manageable. Luckily, this is something that I know.
I was admitted to a mental health facility where I was diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and PTSD in 2015. I strongly identify with the symptoms of borderline personality disorder, although I wasn’t diagnosed. I become impulsive, dangerous, and self harm when I’m in emotional distress. That behaviour started when I was eight or nine years old. I attended dialectical behavioural therapy while in hospital and the information shared in that particular course was the most valuable to me. DBT showed me how my response to healthy/normal emotions has turned my pain into suffering.
I’m still learning to control my urge to be impulsive, and to be comfortable with experiencing the feeling of complete helplessness. It brings with it its’ own pain, but it’s nothing compared to the alternative; a false sense of control with consequences.
So, here I am, taking a deep breath, on this here blog.