long walks.

 

I go on long walks now, trying to ease the pain. however, they mostly always make it worse. the moment I get in touch with myself, I find myself crying in the streets, hoping someone could approach me so that I can feel less alone. the pain is unbearably isolating, unfortunately.

despite wanting to write about my struggles more often, I find myself ashamed. I am overwhelmed by how I cannot find my strength in spite of surviving even tougher times. I struggle with finding my sense of identity most of all nowadays. I look everywhere, into all of my visions and goals, and I don’t find myself. I don’t know who I am supposed to be. being ‘needed’ in the household and the addiction of always being the provider of emotional supply was a hallmark of my identity back then. I  was always needed. but now, I am needed as a whole person, not a source of fuel for never-ending abuse.

it’s really hard navigating the turbulence in this journey: the compromised immune system, existential crisis, fatigue and all the time wasted on basically nothing. I feel that there is no point in living anymore, because who am I when not needed in that way? it’s like withdrawal and I’m sober, and the world is so empty without who I used to be.

when I’m at the point of wanting to really end it, I remind myself that this, surely, has a purpose. one day, I’ll look back on those days and know deep inside that it all made sense and I would be grateful for not giving up on finding myself again. I forgive myself for not being able to move on, for grieving and finding it hard to navigate the bare reality as it is. 

I will try to keep writing, to document the ups and downs, to validate that this struggle exists. I need to be here for my present self, even if I truly loathe her. but she’s here, and she is serving a purpose. I need to step up for her and allow her to be: as angry, sad and fearful as she is. 

I truly pray for longer walks more peaceful than this.