How tortured I am by my unwanted longing for understanding of my plight. I have come to realise by now that it is next to impossible to find understanding in other humans, separated as I feel from them by an infinite distance, a distance so great it almost seems we are of different species. Why, then, am I still trying? Why do I feel this desperate, burning need for people to understand what I feel, why I feel it, and why I act the way I act? They will only ever understand, I know, if they ever reach the point where they suffer as I do, and since only naïveté, only the absence of knowledge, of awareness, can spare them from eternal torment in life, and I do not wish this upon them. To seek their understanding, therefore, is wishing upon them this eternal sadness and despair that has become an inseparable part of my own being, and thus means contradicting myself. Nevertheless, this need for understanding continues to well up in me, manifesting as an uncontrollable urge, slapping my feeble attempts at reason in the face, showing it who is the undisputed master.
Here again is presented evidence of the unrelenting battle between emotion and reason. Never do they seem to be in agreement; harmony between the two seems utterly unattainable for me, and emotion always seems to win out. Will I continue to be torn between reason and emotion until my death? Will I continue to experience this feeling of being stretched beyond my limits and snapped back, repeated again and again until I lose the final remainder of my sanity?
Only in writing do I find the understanding I seek. Though even this is ever insufficient, the paper always silently accepts my words, my objectified thoughts and feelings, and offers some comfort, at least, when it can be found nowhere else in the world. Only in writing do I find a measure of peace from the ever-present inner turmoil that constantly threatens to tear me apart.
In the extreme pain and loneliness it seems impossible to connect or find understanding with other people. I understand, because I too have been down that black hole. But these feelings will pass, as they have for me. Life will get better if you hold on. And in the mean while, writing about your feelings is very good for you. And talking about your feelings with the people you feel comfortable with will help you very much as well, even though it's hard. And you can always talk to me if you want to. I'm here.
ReplyDelete