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[ As is generally the case with posts under this userpic, this is translation and heavy filtering. ]
Fair warning: I am not only hormonal and in fairly severe physical pain, but this is just raw angst. If you're not up to angst, don't.
I made a decision a while back.
Until certain things have come to pass, I will endure.
I was not asked to do this; I was in a place where the choices I could see were to choose this stasis and particular stubbornness, or to continue to need things that were unavailable to me, where the needing itself was causing harm, never mind that I had reason to believe my needs would be met. Or I could choose to renege on promises made, to walk away, to cease to have any expectation of caring.
I chose to endure.
And I resent it.
If I face the fact of my endurance, the shouldering of this burden, the pain and grief wells up in my throat and it chokes me. I blind myself with the blurs of tears. And there are times that I just howl, the deep-throated bellowing wails that hurt so much that I have to stop, I have to consciously manufacture a trigger to shift front, because letting the pain out like that only reminds me how much of it there is, and I cannot face that and continue to endure.
This thing, this is a commitment to myself. I will do this, and when I can set the burden down, I will see if there is enough of this left for me to consider taking up any part of it again. I cannot ... afford ... to put any serious levels of care into anyone else about this; I burned the last of my capacity for that care away in this last obligation to old vows.
It hurts. It hurts so much. It hurts so much that I set it aside, I refuse to face it, I simply endure.
The times that it does not hurt hurt the most of all. The horrible knowledge that this surcease is only a momentary thing, that the pain is there, that it will return -- that there are times I can lie to myself well enough to forget the beast that is waiting to savage me when the moment passes -- make me resent the not hurting even more than the pain.
The pain, at this point, is habitual.
I can honestly not say that I know what outcome I hope for anymore, what of possible futures I want to happen.
The only thing I know is that I want to put it down.
There's an oblivion after that, one where the pain and the anger and the shattered parts of self whirl about and devour all possible futures. I hope at least that on the other side of the raging black fire there is something whole that can be built, but there is no knowledge of what that might be, or even if it exists. I have enough faith in my own strength to know that I can probably survive it, but I do not know in what form, bluejay or benu.
But if I put it down, if I let it go, then I will not have to endure any longer. I may not know what happens next, but at least I'll be able to put it down.
Until then . . . the enduring.
[ Darkhawk addendum: I am fairly sure this really is Bonfire. I am not sure what to make of his lack of overt self-sabotage. ]
iTunes has decided to follow up on its string of mighty cheerfulness with "Blowin' in the WInd."
And then "A Matter of Trust". *headdesk*
Fair warning: I am not only hormonal and in fairly severe physical pain, but this is just raw angst. If you're not up to angst, don't.
I made a decision a while back.
Until certain things have come to pass, I will endure.
I was not asked to do this; I was in a place where the choices I could see were to choose this stasis and particular stubbornness, or to continue to need things that were unavailable to me, where the needing itself was causing harm, never mind that I had reason to believe my needs would be met. Or I could choose to renege on promises made, to walk away, to cease to have any expectation of caring.
I chose to endure.
And I resent it.
If I face the fact of my endurance, the shouldering of this burden, the pain and grief wells up in my throat and it chokes me. I blind myself with the blurs of tears. And there are times that I just howl, the deep-throated bellowing wails that hurt so much that I have to stop, I have to consciously manufacture a trigger to shift front, because letting the pain out like that only reminds me how much of it there is, and I cannot face that and continue to endure.
This thing, this is a commitment to myself. I will do this, and when I can set the burden down, I will see if there is enough of this left for me to consider taking up any part of it again. I cannot ... afford ... to put any serious levels of care into anyone else about this; I burned the last of my capacity for that care away in this last obligation to old vows.
It hurts. It hurts so much. It hurts so much that I set it aside, I refuse to face it, I simply endure.
The times that it does not hurt hurt the most of all. The horrible knowledge that this surcease is only a momentary thing, that the pain is there, that it will return -- that there are times I can lie to myself well enough to forget the beast that is waiting to savage me when the moment passes -- make me resent the not hurting even more than the pain.
The pain, at this point, is habitual.
I can honestly not say that I know what outcome I hope for anymore, what of possible futures I want to happen.
The only thing I know is that I want to put it down.
There's an oblivion after that, one where the pain and the anger and the shattered parts of self whirl about and devour all possible futures. I hope at least that on the other side of the raging black fire there is something whole that can be built, but there is no knowledge of what that might be, or even if it exists. I have enough faith in my own strength to know that I can probably survive it, but I do not know in what form, bluejay or benu.
But if I put it down, if I let it go, then I will not have to endure any longer. I may not know what happens next, but at least I'll be able to put it down.
Until then . . . the enduring.
[ Darkhawk addendum: I am fairly sure this really is Bonfire. I am not sure what to make of his lack of overt self-sabotage. ]
iTunes has decided to follow up on its string of mighty cheerfulness with "Blowin' in the WInd."
And then "A Matter of Trust". *headdesk*
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*careful hugs if wanted*
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Hugs are good.
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"That's not perfect! Smite! That's not perfect either! Smite! What do you mean I'm overdoing the smiting? I'm supposed to smite and carve away the broken bits, none of this is perfect, and anyway I'm having fun."
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*hugs* My roomiesan.
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