I am sorry you feel so bad.
I respect your experience, and even though I’d like to change it for you, I probably can’t.
I am sorry for that.
I know how hard it is when life seems dull, and unfair, and bleak, and depressing, and useless, just like you.
I know how you can wake up in the morning and within seconds, the misery that you consider to be your existence, is downloaded and in place again.
I am sorry that it looks so real and repetitive, and I know how unfair it looks.
The feeling you carry around with you, the heavy, dark, tiresome feeling.
The incapability to change your outcome.
I am sorry that it might look to you that I don’t understand about pain, and that I am just in denial of what’s out there.
I get it.
Because I was that you.
For almost 40 years.
Downloading the same paralyzing story first thing in the morning.
Looking around in a hopeless world.
Feeling lonely and lost.
And loathing people who had easy lives, who didn’t respect what I was going through, who were just painfully naïve and unaware of the real problems people have, the dark secrets, the thick, heavy blanket of frustration I was wearing.
I was that you.
Tired, lonely, in a world that didn’t make sense, didn’t seem to care about me.
Until I realized (and it took me quite some time, to be very honest) that I was not that at all.
It LOOKED like it, it TASTED like it, it FELT like it.
It was as real as real can be.
But it wasn’t true.
This post will probably not help you see what I saw, and bring what it brought me.
It will probably not lift the heavy sadness of this day, and it will probably not force the light in that you are so deeply longing for.
And I’m sorry for that.
But the pain isn’t you.
It is just the idea of you, the stubborn habit of you, the story of you.
I can’t make you see, with these words, but life will.
Just hang in there.
(Photo by @hoachld, for Unsplash)