these wounds must heal

How do i begin?

I know i have to heal. Or more appropriately, i know i need to let myself heal. And i want to. I want to be healed. It’s been far too long. It’s been far too painful. So why not? Why the many feeble attempts which turned out all too futile? Why couldn’t i put my heart and mind into it, and fight for it?

I am somehow, damaged, to say the least. With each time that life itself, a somebody, or a situation, hits me, i get wounded. And as if it wasn’t even painful or bad enough, i turn against myself. It’s a double whammy everytime, and there’s no surprise if it became a triple whammy. It didn’t matter to me if someone else or no one else was to blame. I took it upon myself- “it was because i was not good enough” ; “it was because i was not strong enough” ; “it was because i was too weak” ; or even plain and simple “it was because of me”.

My treatment team tries to heal me by teaching me how to heal myself, and they do it unrelentingly. It is not that they do not want to heal me by themselves. They are teaching me, and i guess they are wanting to instill in me a sense of responsibility, as well as empowering me to do it for myself.

So i try, and i try my darndest. I try to patch my wounds up and soothe them, i try to bring the wounded edges together to close them up, so that they don’t hurt anymore, so that they can properly heal, and so i may be whole again. But soon enough, i go downhill, and then i inevitably undo all of that. I repeatedly pick at them so they bleed and gape and hurt again. Once i am rockbottom, i am content with all of that, especially when they are left to fester and rot. It’s not a surprise that i usually think that i deserve all of that pain.

It takes a huge catalyst to ignite that little ember of spark in me thereafter. I need to be convinced that i deserve better, and that i do not deserve to be in pain. That there is so much to live for. That my future is waiting for me, and that life does get better. But it gets very tiring and frustrating, so much so that i sometimes throw my hands up in the air, wanting to give up.

Who am i to give up if none of my treatment team has given up? Who am i to say that i’ve had enough when God has been by my side the whole time?

I have my triggers, i have my refractory depression, i have my chronic suicidality, i have my RA and its chronic pain, i have my disordered eating and ways, and i have all these wounds to go along with them. They are all intertwined, and it is complicated. But there is a way. There must be a way around them.

I’m going back out into the wild again today, and i know my wounds will turn into fresh ones again if i am not careful. In a peculiar way, i am indeed very ‘vulnerable’ and ‘fragile‘ in the immediate post-discharge period.

I want to let myself heal, and i will do everything in my capacity to heal my wounds. I sure do not have the confidence to do so, but i should not condemn myself even before i start. Well like i said before, tenacity is requisite.




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