Hello darkness, my old friend
Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.
-C. S. Lewis
I've been feeling sort of down lately. It's hard not to look back on the whole of my life and see failure writ large. It's pretty much been an enormous waste. What have I really accomplished or achieved in all these years other than to exist? I'm sure someone digging through the detritus could form platitudes but those all ring hallow to anyone who cares to listen. What's not said looms like an empty hole into which is no real fill.
It's ironic really since it's only recently, for the first time in 20 years that I've managed to crawl out of the pit of pain and disability brought by the hidradenitis and I have to wonder what was it all for anyway. I took each day, one at a time, for years....trying to never lift my head to look forward nor back. I can't say it didn't work either. Hell, it might even have saved my life, but now after it all, I raise my head and only see blasted wasteland all around me. What is the point of a life? Where is its value? Maybe I'm just bitter at the sense of betrayal. Like a marathon runner who finally saw the finishline approaching after a grueling race, I see now that it was just a checkpoint and the next stretch is filled with all new horrors and tribulation. And you have to wonder if it's all even worth it. You're simply yet another blob of crap, consuming resources and producing nothing of true value.
I've heard some people say that no one will ever really love you until you can love yourself. If that's the case than I think there's little chance of that ever happening.
-C. S. Lewis
I've been feeling sort of down lately. It's hard not to look back on the whole of my life and see failure writ large. It's pretty much been an enormous waste. What have I really accomplished or achieved in all these years other than to exist? I'm sure someone digging through the detritus could form platitudes but those all ring hallow to anyone who cares to listen. What's not said looms like an empty hole into which is no real fill.
It's ironic really since it's only recently, for the first time in 20 years that I've managed to crawl out of the pit of pain and disability brought by the hidradenitis and I have to wonder what was it all for anyway. I took each day, one at a time, for years....trying to never lift my head to look forward nor back. I can't say it didn't work either. Hell, it might even have saved my life, but now after it all, I raise my head and only see blasted wasteland all around me. What is the point of a life? Where is its value? Maybe I'm just bitter at the sense of betrayal. Like a marathon runner who finally saw the finishline approaching after a grueling race, I see now that it was just a checkpoint and the next stretch is filled with all new horrors and tribulation. And you have to wonder if it's all even worth it. You're simply yet another blob of crap, consuming resources and producing nothing of true value.
I've heard some people say that no one will ever really love you until you can love yourself. If that's the case than I think there's little chance of that ever happening.