The truth of the matter is we all suffer. I know it sucks. Suffering means (out of several meanings) TO ENDURE PAIN. It's so much easier when our pain and suffering are physical, a cut, broken bone, burn, fever, and any other ailments. First of all, most of the physical wounds that we receive, we know what the cause was. I was running and I fell and skinned my knee. Emotional pain is so much more different and broad in its causes.
Several months ago, I could not handle the pain any more, I swallowed sixty vicodin, to somehow find relief. There were so many factors that led up to this one horrible moment.
-Seeing my husband kiss my best friend
-Catching him in lies
-An emotionally abusive marriage
-My own adultery from ten years ago
-Feeling weak
-Controlled by uncontrolled anger
I could go on and on with this list. Each of these aspects, alone, cause me so much mental anguish. It took me months to finally emotionally stabalize myself in order to further my recovery progress.
A few months ago- I learned a very important idea-
Suffering is not a unique characteristic to me. I don't mean I am alone in the process of suffering- (I hated when someone would try to compare their pain and suffering with mine- to somehow prove that I wasn't alone) I knew that there were people who were in similar situations as mine: BPD diagnosis,
Divorce...blah blah blah... and then to top it off people would say "see how bad i had it and I am still here" So many times I wanted to bonk them in the head when they said that. I felt totally unique in my pain and suffering.
It wasn't until one day- I once again was exposed to a painful situation that my sixteen year old daughter was experiencing at the same time. Our beloved dog had died of accidental poisoning, my daughter is a DOG LOVER. I remember sitting in the vet's office and looking around at a steel table and wondering to myself...how many times a day do people lose their dogs to an accident. And I was sure that other people around the world that had just lost a dog were in the same emotional suffering as me. It kinda disturbed me to think- I wasn't unique- neither was my pain, nor my dog.
I constantly try to be unique in this world- I love to dress my own style, I love to listen to non-mainstream music, I love British Comedies. I thought to myself- I don't want to be the same as everyone else experiencing pain.
It was then that I realized my uniqueness didn't come from suffering itself but how I dealt with suffering that made me different. It's funny how I can offer advice but not take my own. One day my cousin called me and said back to me a word of advice I always say to others.
It's not the shit in our lives that define who we are.
But
It's the way we deal with the shit is how we are measued.
Once one understands that suffering does not seperate us from animals but the problem-solving mentality we posses is also what makes us human.
I am unique because I survived... I am ALIVE... and the path that I took to this place I am in NOW is ALL MY OWN.
Becoming Real in a BPD World
The Velveteen Rabbit
By Margery Williams
"What is REAL?" asked the rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse, "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the rabbit
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up?" he asked,"or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," replied the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen to people who break easily, or who have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of you hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
By Margery Williams
"What is REAL?" asked the rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse, "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the rabbit
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up?" he asked,"or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," replied the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen to people who break easily, or who have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of you hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Surviving Suffering
Labels:
borderline personality disorder,
bpd,
mental health,
recovery
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