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i dont know. it is not critical. i just want someone to listen, is all
4 months ago · 2 · Rant, +2
140
i cant word it
comfort, in pain
it has to hurt
in hurt i feel at home
at belonging
no longer an outsider to my own place
every place is never a home
and i cant tell if its because the places i go contain people who are no longer family to me, instead closer to strangers, that i have refused to emotionally connect with, that ive given too much power to, people who have become threats.. and these places become the familiar of the past but the foreign of the present.. i become not a resident in homes, but a guest in houses. i feel like a guest in more than just location. i am not belonging, i am merely fitting in, to be temporary.
or if it is some other reason.
a belonging has become quite desirable..
my last sense of belonging is in pain, i think. but that is just the reason i have given, to something unreasonable, the desire to be in pain because it brings belonging. it could have been that i simply belonged back then, and also happened to be in pain. to accept that would be to accept no solution... though.
maybe it is because when i am finally hurting badly, i care. i take care of myself, the hurt is tangible, miserable, and there is solace to be found in momentarily going the extra mile to heal. there is no sense of "this is undeserved" or needing for it to hurt worse to warrant, permit, allow, me to care at all, when it hurts so bad. there is no need to interrogate the results, if i will become soft, if i am spoiling myself, if i am treating wounds that would heal better without coddling, when the situation was far more dire.
to admit fully,, i want it back. i want to allow myself to feel, to hurt, and to feel taken care of even if it just myself. instead i have been, figuratively, dragging myself like a limp dog on a leash, never giving enough slack to get back up fully and walk, but rarely dragging hard enough to cause a yelp. a muffled suffering, that i myself dont consider important enough, refuse to validate.
making it worse to paradoxically make it better is not a smart play, it is just the first domino of many, id rather not entertain it.
but i am gravitating to a sort of being,, of suffering manifest(???) that is hard to explain. engaging in rituals that slightly remind me of past suffering, because it brings that belonging that i am missing. it is not much yet. drinking coffee, taking long showers just to think and soothe, pushing away my friends, considering self harm. and some new ones. working, not for much joy in productivity, but in hopes that it will hurt me; i only realise that as i type it out, actually.
despite these regressions, they dont have the intended affect. im far quicker to push the pain aside, ignore it. and the old half-comforts dont comfort anymore. i had hurt myself, and the dull pain brought some reprieve, but the relief did not last long, and i was soon feeling undeserved of it. it was.. disappointing, honestly.
i dont know why pain has become a vessel of worth, and why most of what i do has come to revolve around it. maybe i am just becoming stupider. i dont know. ive been worrying about that a lot.
it is probably not so deep. i have no one to confide true trust in, and i feel guilty when anyone helps. so i go to myself for comfort. and then i lose the one 'person' i have to go to, for whatever reason. i am just pathetic, i apparently cant do it myself. how weak.
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Is that weak. I don’t think so. Pain is something we can all relate to especially if it’s a common theme though a majority of life.
ReplyDoes that mean there’s something wrong with that person that finds comfort in pain?
Reply