All we hurt when we hurt / The universal language

There is an importance to healing I cannot stress enough. Because I was so affected by traumatic abuse so early in childhood, my life, identity, and behavior have all largely been shaped by pain. Truthfully, I challenge the notion that even human beings from seemingly tamer backgrounds are not shaped largely in part by pain. When going over these sentences, I thought a more accurate description might be to add pronouns to these sentences — add perhaps “my” and “their” before “pain,” but that would only distance myself from the ultimate point. There are many layers to this post as there are many layers to every person. Layers vary and appear different. They can manifest differently, speak in different tongues, dress in different threads, dance with different motions, and while sentient beings all hurt in different ways to different severities and we express those agonies in different behaviors, perhaps the greatest irony of all is that the most universal element sentient beings share is what often isolates us most — pain.

Physical pain or severe physical discomfort, at their most banal, tell us something is “wrong.” A bone is broken, and it needs to heal, or a part of our body is exposed that should not be exposed — in the case of extreme cold or extreme heat or a wound — or that not enough blood is getting to our heart or that not enough oxygen is getting to our brain. Prolonged inactivity can also cause physical pain or severe physical discomfort because that in itself tells the body something is wrong and can make things go wrong further within the body. People struggling with their mental health often get caught in this cycle, because already we’re usually struggling with debilitating stressors (and chemistry).

It is important to note that there are medical conditions in which people have a total insensitivity to pain, however rare, but even in cases of extreme dissociation or Antisocial Personality Disorder (sociopathy and psychopathy) where emotional range can become limited, there is a current that makes us universally one, even if separating us in terms of our behavior or reactions to it: pain felt by the soul even if not always the body.

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The Analog Identity — Mothletter Studios

I never rest. Dreams are fragments to me of undercover lives; these lives lived, under covers, atop bedspreads, wear worlds only slightly off from the world in which I am writing this now. The realities are difficult to separate sometimes, twisting in me like bedsheets enduring a sleeping nightmare or a white-knuckled waking one. I […]

via The Analog Identity — Mothletter Studios

How do you break the cycle?

Many mental illnesses, like many other chronic illnesses, are often cyclical. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, this means that at times the illness softens or even goes into a state of “remission,” in which the illness is not as prominent, invasive, difficult, and/or et cetera. This is especially true with mood disorders, such as depression or bipolar disorder. I think a full “remission” is rare, but I’ve known people who have reportedly (or rather, self-reportedly) gone for years without symptoms who end up hospitalized after an episode returns. Still, many illnesses are cyclicallike fibromyalgia for example.

The uni-cycle from hell

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Bullying vs what people actually go through in school

First, let me state:

I have never liked the term “bullying” when it comes to a student’s peers. It diminishes the effect of their abuse and harassment. There are definitely an infinite amount of “grades” (as in severities) when it comes to “bullying,” but many of these “grades” are enough to damage a person. I understand we are all responsible for our own actions, but even in CBT the general consensus is that you can control your thoughts and invariably take charge with your feelings, but feelings themselves are natural and often do what they want.

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Always darkest

I don’t like getting up early right now. Right now, I don’t even like getting up at all. Reopening wounds in therapy last Wednesday was tough. Being in a triggering situation last Thursday was tougher. PTSD is a hypersensitive gun right now, and I’ve had two psychotic episodes in the past two(?) weeks. I don’t know. Everything is running together.

It’s times like these that the positivity is so hard to hold onto or even remember, and of course, it’s times like these when I need it most. I get the “c’est la vie” track stuck in my head, and the suicidality starts back up, and before I know it, I’m lost in a zoo where all predators are loose and hungry and I don’t have a directory to find my way to safety.

But I’ll get through it.

I must remember that.

So many suicide attempts and so many days like this and so many hospitalizations, and I’m still alive. I don’t believe in “plans” or that “everything happens for a reason.” I’m honestly just really hard to kill, it seems.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still alive.

My self-purpose is that I’m here to make the world better:  To inspire and encourage and love and express and strengthen and enlighten all those around me, as well as myself. That’s what I want to do. I want to live my faith in people. I feel so separate from the world, so cut-off. I feel angry and bitter and cynical, but I know the hurt and the damage are at the root of all of that. Because I’ve also seen human beings capable of beautiful, strong, and compassionate things. There are figures in history who prove me right. There are people every day who prove me right. I think at the core, people are born selfish because that’s how people survive, but I don’t think that means people are condemned to selfishness. Like colorism, misogyny, and other prejudices, selfishness is something we must commit to undoing. Ultimately, you still must have great significance to yourself and be addressing your own needs and fighting for yourself. But there is a difference between selfishness and survival. Sometimes it’s a gray shaded area, but I believe there is a strong distinction most of the time.

I don’t have unrealistic expectations. I know I cannot save the world; I know nobody can. And I know that even if it were possible, one would have to save themselves first. People en masse are easily manipulated, and mobs appeal to a hubris beyond comprehension. We can’t control anything or anyone outside ourselves, truly.

And why would you want to? Really? I wouldn’t mind the pain so much if there were less of it. I think pain is vital to growth and development. After all, why would someone invent a better way of doing things if they were completely content with the way they were doing things in the first place? but the pain is massive. It’s hard. Stifling. Suffocating, almost. Just breathing in a world like this feels impossible sometimes. Everything hurts.

But there are good things. Always, always, always. There are beautiful things. There are beautiful people. Beautiful stories, good stories. Inspiration. The world is a sick place, but the diversity and creativity and beauty–often tucked away in details–are important to note.

I remembered just now why I used to like early mornings:
Even in this summer heat, dawn is important to watch.