There's a glimpse of divinity in each.

My heart just got blown away, my future is taken away, and reality points its finger at my face — and that's completely justified even on my end. The cruel hollowness and disturbing clinging to the untrammeled weird hopes manifest as its consequence, rapidly. I feel really, really horrible.

But then in order to survive mentally, I tried a few things with the psyche, I force myself to stare at my surroundings and see things not the way I used to see things. "What does it mean to perceive existence?", and that one question opens a door for me to perceive a new reality that I've never recognized at high lucidity like this before; at the same time, it feels like my perception is flipped, bent, and twisted into a form where I can see something that I believe is not very common.

From that new reality, I found something more serious than just strength. It's a courageous stare toward something that I don't understand, and that courage seems to be rooted somewhere deep in my archetypal structure (seeing from a Jungian perspective). Is it the self? have I finally stepped my feet on the surface where the unconscious rests? Is this a place where the word "divinity" starts to make sense?

Whatever it is, it gives me something that I can't explain. It's not the power to endure suffering, perhaps more like a capacity to observe suffering from a very weird perspective—which therefore I don't suffer anymore, or at least that makes me suffer less.

If I end up killing myself, everyone should know I don't do it because I suffer. But an urge to understand the final truth and what rests behind the curtain. I don't resent the world, I pity the people who have to get through everything unfairly. I hope in the end, there will be more good than bad.