Knowledge may be power but ignorance is bliss

Everyone has their own struggles. My struggle is no more painful or important than anyone else’s; we are all human, right? My struggle right now is focused around the pain from the past, and I feel downright deficient in the skill set needed to do this. During the day, when I can distract myself, I feel so far removed from this fight, and yet every night, I find myself fighting right on the front line.

I am not nearly as emotionally secure as I used to be. I used to be unshakable & steady, but now I feel like the wall of a dam during the day, and at night, the dam breaks and the water gushes over me, drowning me in memories and feelings I don’t want to feel.

I read so much about the daily achievements and struggles from fellow ‘survivors’ and I find myself cheering them on when they report their victories, and I am saddened when I read expressions of trashing violently through a scuffle of the past. And it’s like that, isn’t it? One day you find yourself standing on top of the world, screaming, “You will never destroy me! I am a strong and courageous woman now, not a broken little girl!” And the next day, you find yourself curled into a ball, huddled in the corner of a dark room, rocking yourself in fear…and those days you ARE that broken little girl.

And I find myself wondering if it ever WILL be ‘better’. Is there an end to this road? Recently dear therapist told me I could feel this way for another 2 years, or maybe more, and she went on to add that this ‘process’ could take 15 years or more! What? I don’t think I can survive another 2 years in this place! I read your words and I take them in, and I want to encourage each of you…and then I feel like such a hypocrite for sending you the strength and the courage that I don’t feel. What are the odds? What am I playing against? I want to know. I’m writing this because I was interacting with a woman who was strong – I thought, made of steel. She was a survivor! She trudged through it…it was hell but she made it…all the way to the top of the mountain. My hero! And then she fell, and this time, after so many years later, so many stages of healing and processing and fighting, she gave up. And when I read this I felt my head begin to spin and vomit in my throat. This woman, this woman who had worked so hard for so long…this woman who was so inspirational for me, recounting her stories of hope and healing…she herself lost the battle. And that just made it seem so much more perceptible, so much more real. I suddenly feel even more fragile, even more breakable. A part of me did break…I ran to the bathroom, choking on sobs and vomit. Suddenly the small flicker of hope I carried with me was snuffed out and I the echoes of defeat consumed me.

I am shocked and horrified…this woman was so much stronger than I am. If she couldn’t make it, there’s no way I could make it. My heart aches for her because I know what it feels like to not want to go on…when the weariness overtakes you and you just can’t face anymore. I know that feeling – because there are so many nights when I find myself begging to be free, and it is a battle of will between each one inside of me, and I am afraid one night, the wrong one will win the fight.

Knowledge may be power but ignorance is bliss! And there are things I don’t want to know right now. And I acknowledge that there are things I shouldn’t try to face right now.
I am fragile – breakable. I am living my life on the edge of a knife and I don’t dare stumble. I am afraid. I am so afraid...

Balance is the key – unfortunately that is an elusive concept that I constantly struggle to achieve…