More importantly, when you write about it, IT HELPS OTHERS.
Wild Flower this is the only answer I’ve got.
We turn our deficits; our weaknesses; our damage, into something beautiful when we use it to connect with those even more damaged and lost than we are.
Every word you write, imagine a woman on the other side of it. Imagine a little girl in the middle of what you’re now on the other side of.
Imagine that she feels alone. Like no one could possibly understand. And she’s ready to give up. She’s ready to marry a man just like him JUST to escape him. Or she’s ready to stick a needle in her vein just to forget for awhile. Or she’s ready to down that bottle of sleeping pills just to make it stop.
And she can’t hear anyone’s voices, because she can tell they haven’t been there. Not REALLY. So she shuts down when they try.
But she can hear one voice. She can hear you. Because you understand. So you tell her your story, because God Dammit YOU ARE STILL HERE TO TELL IT.
And she is connected. And she sees another possible ending.
And now, one day, it will be HER voice someone will be literally dying to hear.
You may never know who she is. She may lurk here and just read. So you can’t get invested in the outcome. Because the healing is in the giving. It isn’t about getting to see the good you do. That isn’t a right we have. We give everything we can, and we get better. The rest is irrelevant.
It’s a selfless selfishness. It’s kind of paradoxical. But I promise, it works.
Every second you spend with someone else’s wellbeing in mind is a second you aren’t obsessing about your own stuff.
And isn’t that the point?
You still get to process, but your motivation shifts from exorcising your demons to exorcising someone else’s using what you have learned by surviving this long.
That’s all I got.