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Into The Void
3 years ago
General
Here I am again, using this platform to organize my thoughts. Prepare yourselves, motherfuckers! This is going to get uncomfortable real quick.
But first, some mood music.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GItBDuFa-wk
"This too shall pass...."
"The pain just means you really loved her...."
"I know how you feel...."
"Every bad day eventually ends...."
"Praying for you..."
"Remember that the pain is only temporary..."
To start off, if you've ever said this to anyone dealing with grief and loss, kindly and promptly get fucked.
Two Years Down; A Reflection
Part One...
One might ask the question, "Does the pain go away?"
No. No, it doesn't. The pain remains. You just get used to it.
Imagine if you will, going through your day and you see something that triggers a flashback. Suddenly your body is locked up, you can't speak, you're sweating, and your heart is racing. You're absolutely paralyzed reliving that moment--the sights, sounds, smells, textures, and feelings that have been burned into your memory. One way to handle this is to make an exit, find a space away from prying eyes, and break down into a full blown panic attack. Cry. Clean up, recompose yourself, and try to move on with your day.
Now imagine if you will, dealing with that on a daily basis. Every day, relentlessly, and unwillingly reliving that moment. Now what do you do? Reach out for help. Multiple therapists, with both old and new techniques. Some more radical and experimental than traditional. Everything short of just taking Molly.
But hang on, there's a catch! What if none of these therapy options work for you? What if, despite all your desire for help, and all the help you receive (with the help of a small fortune), none of it works? What do you do then?
Well, if their techniques aren't working, I'll self-medicate.
Certainly alcohol will help me to calm down and relax. Not much else I can get ahold of easily in an ultra-conservative religiously dominated state.
One shot for the nerves. Oh, but just like the panic attacks, they become more frequent. Soon it's no longer a shot, but half the fucking bottle.
After a spiral out of control into alcoholism and a descent into the darkest parts of your own mind, there's the feeling buried there, "you're beyond help".
A global pandemic popularized the phrase, "the new normal". A descent into madness becomes your new normal. Every day the pain becomes more and more unbearable, with no relief in sight.
Well, there is one option with multiple methods of carrying it out.
"Hey remember those sleeping pills your friend gave you because of your now constant nightmares? Remember your half bottle of bourbon?"
"Don't forget about the HK VP9Tac that everyone loves. It's always in arm's reach!"
"You love climbing in the mountains, yeah? In remote locations?"
__
Part Two...
Unproductive therapy, drug abuse, alcoholism, and suicide attempts.
Only two people knew about any of this. Only one knows how far over the edge, how close to constantly breaking down, and how volatile I got as a result.
Through sorrow, greif, pain, suffering, melancholy, flashbacks, numbness, and extreme loneliness, I had one person constantly standing by me and helping me through. She brought me into her home and watched over me through it all. I owe her my life, and so much more.
Trauma and grief do this weird thing where it shows you in very explicit ways who your friends are, for better or worse.
I know who I can literally trust with my life, verses those I can barely trust with my lunch order.
Two years gone, how do I feel? Honestly, not much better. The pain is still there. Guilt, sorrow, flashbacks, reliving the day, all of it. It's been so constant, it's become just a constant numbness at this point.
I have become an enigma of an individual. The dichotomy becomes more apparent each day.
I don't trust people, but I have become an extremely empathetic person.
I work professionally with very loving and supportive people, but have become extremely lonely and isolated.
I am the face of social media platforms for multiple companies, but I am riddled with anxiety and panic.
I sustain myself and live alone, but I absolutely fear living alone.
I long for peace of mind, but my mind is constantly raging with emotion.
I look confident and bold, but I am barely holding my shit together.
I am always a strong pillar of support for others, but in my mind i'm screaming for support from anyone, anywhere.
What do I do with myself?
Part Three...
Lessons learned over these past two years. If you get nothing else out of the directionless thoughts above, take these next words to heart.
-Tell the people you love that you love them. Now.
-Do what you want to do, and make plans to do said things.
-Know who supports you and who doesn't. It makes things a lot easier when shit hits the fan.
-Time is your absolute most valuable commodity. Make time to spend with those you care about.
-Don't wait for a sign to pursue the thing you have always wanted to do. Do it now.
-Student loans, debt, war, politics, and taxes are inevitable. Don't let it dictate your life. You are in control.
-Be empathetic. Truly empathetic.
-Curb stomp a Nazi. They will always deserve it.
-Know your values and stick by them. If you aren't sure if they are your own or borrowed, time to take inventory and find out.
Like myself, there are people constantly looking for help, but either fear reaching out, can't trust others, don't want to be a burden, or think their issue is their own to solve. A truly understanding person who can recognize the signs of someone needing help is a literal heaven-sent angel.
Referring to my quotes at the top of this post: Hollow aphorisms and empty platitudes are easily spotted. They're not only offensive, but infuriating to hear. Mean what you say, and know what you say. I cannot count how many times I have heard those phrases on a daily basis from everyone in my life.
A more effective approach to someone going through a crisis would be... well, sometimes not saying anything. Just be there. present. in the moment with them. It's not going to be an easy moment. You will have to enter into that suffering with them. You will have to go beyond empathy, and truly open up and be vulnerable alongside them. Be with them. Cry with them. Hold them.
____
Where do I go from here?
I don't know. I know I don't want to wait around for a sign.
I am becoming more of myself. I am shedding off societal constraints, traditions, expectations, fears, and conformities.
I have no time to play stupid games, or be someone I am not. I am going to be me, whatever that means.
I am going to do the things I have always seen as out of my reach. Because, why the hell not?
I will explore the world as I have the means. In doing so, I hope to learn more about myself.
I hope to eventually find a community that accepts me and supports each other.
One day I hope to go beyond the pines to meet my Dear who left this world before me. Never to be separated again.
But first, some mood music.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GItBDuFa-wk
"This too shall pass...."
"The pain just means you really loved her...."
"I know how you feel...."
"Every bad day eventually ends...."
"Praying for you..."
"Remember that the pain is only temporary..."
To start off, if you've ever said this to anyone dealing with grief and loss, kindly and promptly get fucked.
Two Years Down; A Reflection
Part One...
One might ask the question, "Does the pain go away?"
No. No, it doesn't. The pain remains. You just get used to it.
Imagine if you will, going through your day and you see something that triggers a flashback. Suddenly your body is locked up, you can't speak, you're sweating, and your heart is racing. You're absolutely paralyzed reliving that moment--the sights, sounds, smells, textures, and feelings that have been burned into your memory. One way to handle this is to make an exit, find a space away from prying eyes, and break down into a full blown panic attack. Cry. Clean up, recompose yourself, and try to move on with your day.
Now imagine if you will, dealing with that on a daily basis. Every day, relentlessly, and unwillingly reliving that moment. Now what do you do? Reach out for help. Multiple therapists, with both old and new techniques. Some more radical and experimental than traditional. Everything short of just taking Molly.
But hang on, there's a catch! What if none of these therapy options work for you? What if, despite all your desire for help, and all the help you receive (with the help of a small fortune), none of it works? What do you do then?
Well, if their techniques aren't working, I'll self-medicate.
Certainly alcohol will help me to calm down and relax. Not much else I can get ahold of easily in an ultra-conservative religiously dominated state.
One shot for the nerves. Oh, but just like the panic attacks, they become more frequent. Soon it's no longer a shot, but half the fucking bottle.
After a spiral out of control into alcoholism and a descent into the darkest parts of your own mind, there's the feeling buried there, "you're beyond help".
A global pandemic popularized the phrase, "the new normal". A descent into madness becomes your new normal. Every day the pain becomes more and more unbearable, with no relief in sight.
Well, there is one option with multiple methods of carrying it out.
"Hey remember those sleeping pills your friend gave you because of your now constant nightmares? Remember your half bottle of bourbon?"
"Don't forget about the HK VP9Tac that everyone loves. It's always in arm's reach!"
"You love climbing in the mountains, yeah? In remote locations?"
__
Part Two...
Unproductive therapy, drug abuse, alcoholism, and suicide attempts.
Only two people knew about any of this. Only one knows how far over the edge, how close to constantly breaking down, and how volatile I got as a result.
Through sorrow, greif, pain, suffering, melancholy, flashbacks, numbness, and extreme loneliness, I had one person constantly standing by me and helping me through. She brought me into her home and watched over me through it all. I owe her my life, and so much more.
Trauma and grief do this weird thing where it shows you in very explicit ways who your friends are, for better or worse.
I know who I can literally trust with my life, verses those I can barely trust with my lunch order.
Two years gone, how do I feel? Honestly, not much better. The pain is still there. Guilt, sorrow, flashbacks, reliving the day, all of it. It's been so constant, it's become just a constant numbness at this point.
I have become an enigma of an individual. The dichotomy becomes more apparent each day.
I don't trust people, but I have become an extremely empathetic person.
I work professionally with very loving and supportive people, but have become extremely lonely and isolated.
I am the face of social media platforms for multiple companies, but I am riddled with anxiety and panic.
I sustain myself and live alone, but I absolutely fear living alone.
I long for peace of mind, but my mind is constantly raging with emotion.
I look confident and bold, but I am barely holding my shit together.
I am always a strong pillar of support for others, but in my mind i'm screaming for support from anyone, anywhere.
What do I do with myself?
Part Three...
Lessons learned over these past two years. If you get nothing else out of the directionless thoughts above, take these next words to heart.
-Tell the people you love that you love them. Now.
-Do what you want to do, and make plans to do said things.
-Know who supports you and who doesn't. It makes things a lot easier when shit hits the fan.
-Time is your absolute most valuable commodity. Make time to spend with those you care about.
-Don't wait for a sign to pursue the thing you have always wanted to do. Do it now.
-Student loans, debt, war, politics, and taxes are inevitable. Don't let it dictate your life. You are in control.
-Be empathetic. Truly empathetic.
-Curb stomp a Nazi. They will always deserve it.
-Know your values and stick by them. If you aren't sure if they are your own or borrowed, time to take inventory and find out.
Like myself, there are people constantly looking for help, but either fear reaching out, can't trust others, don't want to be a burden, or think their issue is their own to solve. A truly understanding person who can recognize the signs of someone needing help is a literal heaven-sent angel.
Referring to my quotes at the top of this post: Hollow aphorisms and empty platitudes are easily spotted. They're not only offensive, but infuriating to hear. Mean what you say, and know what you say. I cannot count how many times I have heard those phrases on a daily basis from everyone in my life.
A more effective approach to someone going through a crisis would be... well, sometimes not saying anything. Just be there. present. in the moment with them. It's not going to be an easy moment. You will have to enter into that suffering with them. You will have to go beyond empathy, and truly open up and be vulnerable alongside them. Be with them. Cry with them. Hold them.
____
Where do I go from here?
I don't know. I know I don't want to wait around for a sign.
I am becoming more of myself. I am shedding off societal constraints, traditions, expectations, fears, and conformities.
I have no time to play stupid games, or be someone I am not. I am going to be me, whatever that means.
I am going to do the things I have always seen as out of my reach. Because, why the hell not?
I will explore the world as I have the means. In doing so, I hope to learn more about myself.
I hope to eventually find a community that accepts me and supports each other.
One day I hope to go beyond the pines to meet my Dear who left this world before me. Never to be separated again.
