Entries tagged with "pain"
I believe in soul-mates, sure. But not just one—I believe someone can have many soul-mates. They come in all different forms. As a mother, brother, mentor, lover, friend. A soulmate is someone who has touched your life in a way you cannot explain. They give you something you never knew you had. Through the most painful parts of my life it is that truth that keeps me going. When my first love left me I felt like there was nothing left in my life. Behind all the pain I realized I was changed. It is through pain that people learn the most about themselves. It sucks to think of all the pain in the world. However, when you get past it all you might just realize that those who have hurt you the most were just soul-mates passing through your life, changing you for the better. And it is emerging through the pain that helps you find what you really love in life. It took me the longest time to trust the men closest to me. I am still learning to not hate. Hate my father for being violent. Hate myself for not sticking up for my sister and me. Hate my mom for never speaking up. Hate the boy who broke me in two. Hate myself for going back to him time and time again.
But once I realized my hate was just a form of pain, I could let myself begin to heal. Through dealing with pain and hurt upfront, one slowly begins to trust again, to love again, and to accept that people who bring pain, joy, annoyance, laughter, or tears are just the soul-mates passing through your life, making you a better person. Only if you let them. If you live not in vain, but in love, you will find the latter.
I’m terrified of the world I must attempt to live in.
I have SO much love for everything. I understand myself, my path in life, but I just CAN NOT understand everyone else.
I realize everyone has their own opinions, but when I see starving children, I get tears in my eyes, and I don’t understand how every single person in this world doesn’t feel the exact same way as I do.
It’s amazing how things can CHANGE a person. Although there will always be pain, arguments, and disaster, we could still make this world so much better than it is now.
How do I go into the world as a young adult, to this horrific planet of hurt and insanity, and try to change it?
…I know that I’m going to change someone’s life, and try to even change the world… but because of that one fact: Everyone has their own opinions; we will never fully live the amazing life’s we could.
If everyone thought of the possibilities and happiness we could accomplish by changing EVERYTHING in the world, it would be 100x’s better than it is now.
Unfortunately, most of you suck.
I didn’t know I was hurting myself. Not at first. I was 9, wasn’t it natural to pull your hair out in clumps, because the pain soothed you and made you not think about how disgusting you were, how inferior to your sister, how unstable your family environment was?
And at 11, isn’t it natural to play with fire? Letting the hot wax fall and harden on your skin, because it was distracting you from your father’s affair, your parents divorce, their shipping you out to live with your alcoholic uncle and crazy grandmother who believed women were made for cooking and cleaning?
And at 14, look! Other people hurt themselves too, by cutting themselves. But see, no one takes it seriously. It’s just silly teenage girls being stupid. Do it, so you don’t have to think… then you recognize the problem, because your mother is sobbing and telling you to stop.
So you do.
But you become homebound, at 15. You don’t want to go out. Why would you? You’ll only be criticized for being so fat and ugly and poor.
But then, at 20, you can’t. And you have to go out. And now what? You start picking at your skin. But this is natural, right? Not a problem.
But it is. You’re still hurting yourself, and this time, again, you didn’t even know it.
But it’s soothing, so how can you stop?
I just discovered the identity of my ex’s new girlfriend; and I am wondering, what does she have that I do not possess? The pain is indescribable. I thought I had gotten over it, but apparently not. My heart is shattered all over again, and all I want to do is curl up and cry. But I gotta live and move on, because there are other people who need me in their lives; and who I mean the whole world to. And I know that one day, I will be happy once again.
But right now, I need to have a good cry.
I will be twenty within the next few days.
Today I realized that I have spent the last three years of my life watching the girl of my dreams slowly digging herself a hole that she will never get out of. This girl has ruined every relationship I have had since her, and when I break it off to be with her, she tosses me to the side where I sulk, waiting patiently for her to come to her senses. It hasn’t happened yet.
I believe that one of the most painful things to see, other than your own death, is to watch someone else slowly become their worst enemy through a series of poor decisions and some unsavory characters.
On top of that, I realized that I am the worst person ever. I am egotistical. I use people. I burn more bridges than I build. I put people down to make myself feel better. I am not a nice person. I am spiteful.
All of these things cease to exist when I’m with her, even if only for a split second. She brings out the best in me, or rather anything good that’s still left. Yet, she fails to realize it.
Maybe someday, she will finally get it.
My dog died a week ago. Along with the pain and sadness of losing a member of my family who didn’t judge me, laugh at me, or verbally abuse me, it made me realize that I could never become a genuine Christian. I could never believe in a God that keeps your family, friends, and loved ones hostage so that if you’re not good and live up to His expectations you never see them ever again.
My best friend is a born-again Christian. He and I often get into very involved discussions (I’m a science person). To tell the truth though, I envy him. He used to be the most volatile person before he “got religion”, and he appears very happy. Am I a bad person because I miss that volatile side?
I’ve felt old since I was 15. Nerve damage takes quite the toll on a tiny little body like mine. Plus a lifetime of emotions duress caused by abusive father figures hasn’t helped much either for feeling young. It just hucks me off that people always say, “you’re only as old as you feel,” but then get aggravated when I say I feel older, like 50 or 60 & in winter 70 or 80. My joints ache, I walk with a cane, I have gray hair, I can’t sleep, my health is frail, I hate children on my lawn. Why is that phrase only reserved for those that feel younger than their actual number of trips around the sun?
After finding this website, and reading the entries that have been posted, I noticed that a lot of them are sad and tragic so instead of writing about my pain, I’m going to write something hopeful. 11 months ago my Mom died. I am 21 years old and I thought my life was going to be over. What I’ve found is that my life still continues to go on, and that even when the worst thing you can imagine happens to you, you’re life will continue as well. I miss her everyday, but her death has also brought me closer to my Dad and my sisters. After years of depression and self injury, I’m finally starting to see the hope and joy in life.
I love you Mommy.
Hi. I’m 25, I work in the science field, I have a promising career, great friends, and a lot of debt. Twister is, I am an addict. I’ve been abusing pain pills and a little heroin for the last five years. I made it through college, with plenty of depressing episodes. You can’t imagine the pain that an addict feels when he is coming down. I recently did my last detox (or so I claim). It’s a pain that radiates from your bones, you would do anything, kill anything, steal anything just to be free from the pain. Imagine mid-evil torture and that’s about what it feels like. I would beat my own arms and legs against things just so I could ignore the pain in my bones for a few minutes. My best friend has a great job too, and he’s an alcoholic. I love him dearly but we couldn’t be different and couldn’t ever understand each other’s pain.
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