I apologise in advance for the rambly post. My thoughts about this are all over the place, and I'm not really sure I should say anything at all. It's something I've kept largely to myself for a long time, other than a few people I've spoken to in private. Something... I don't know, something I most times don't want to face, even though I can't really escape it.
I have been told it can't happen for me. Not now, and in all likelihood not ever. None of it. Due to health factors/physical injury. I'm not going to go into details because it's not important. But I was told this about 6 years ago, and nothing has really changed since in terms of how likely it all is. Although my health and physical state is better now than it was then, relatively... it's still a no-go.
You ask how did I deal with it? The truth is, at the start, and for a long time afterwards, I didn't. I couldn't. I was full of so much hate, rage, sadness, abject misery and just such... hopelessness... that it was a major contributing factor in me attempting suicide twice. Just to try, in some desperate way to be free of a prison I'd suddenly felt myself placed in. Mainly because for me it was sudden. It was like... I had my life planned out, everything I wanted to do, the steps I wanted to take... and then in one day that was all taken away. And I had to somehow pick up the pieces.
I can't decide if it is knowing I can never fully realise the person I know myself to be, or it's the powerlessness in knowing that it's out of my hands, no matter what I do or don't want. I don't know which is worse. I guess both are just as bad. Both are never really out of my mind. Not really. Some days are better than others. Some days are... bad. Horribly bad. But I get through them, somehow.
I keep a lot to myself, mostly because that's the kind of person I am, but also because I'm not perfect. I have a lot of insecurity and fears myself. I fear that people knowing about it, particularly here, will give them cause to... I dunno... disregard some of the other stuff I talk about. To see me as less than, I guess. I certainly see myself that way most of the time. Truthfully I'm debating whether to even post this. It's something I've just always dealt with by myself because... *sigh* again because that's who I am. Another of my flaws, really. I always would rather help someone else with their issues than burden them with mine.
But anyway, it was a contributing factor in me leaving here for extended periods of time. Sometimes things were triggering for me and I struggled to deal with them. For a long time I was not in a good place, and no use to anyone. Least of all myself. I never felt jealous, or bitter towards others. Which is strange because I kinda thought I would. But I never did. Just sad. And empty. I turned pretty much everything back on myself, and fueled a lot of self-hate and self-pity.
It took a long time but now... things are better. Well... maybe not better, but my mind is in a different place. For some reason I still have hope that one day, there may come a time where things may be different. Stuff is advancing all the time, so... never say never. I stopped giving up, because I realised that giving up is no less a prison than being told you can't do something. Or being told you can't be someone. The only difference is that it's self-imposed. I'm glad I didn't succeed back in the depths of my misery because I have come to believe that where there's life, there's hope. Where there's life, there's the chance for change. When you give up, that chance is gone. And there's no guarantee that the alternative is any better. At least with hope, there's always a chance. That is what I believe now.
And I also started living my life to help others. Well, more than I did before. To try to take advantage of the changes I
could make, for others, instead of dwelling on the changes I couldn't make for myself. As a very wise friend recently told me: "They need you more than you need you."
So I guess I drew on myself and tried to think of the things I
could do, for others. The parts of me that I could still embrace, and try to allow to flourish. To look at the ways I could allow my true self to come out. I decided that if I could, I would try to help others to not feel the same things I did. To try and offer encouragement and support to allow their minds to get to a different place. Maybe one where they feel better about themselves and feel confident enough to take the first steps on their journey. Or the next steps on their path to themselves. Because if there's one thing I've learned, it's that everything can all be taken away in an instant, no matter what you do or don't do. And if I could go back in time, I would try to take that with me, and not wait until it was too late.
It never goes away. It really never goes away. I wish it did. I wish that some times, in the middle of the night I wouldn't wake up crying, or shivering, or disoriented before the crushing reality descends. I wish I could turn it off. But... while ever I can't, I figure I might as well use those feelings for something positive than wallow in them and go back to a place that was very, very negative.
... Sorry. I told you it'd be rambly.
