A specific conversation I had today forced me ponder the idea of comparison. As it stands, I am pulled between polarities. Much of life has been an enactment of some ridiculous episode of a bad 80s after school special. If the whole thing was watched after the viewer had been plied with hallucinogens.
And I don’t quite know if everyone realizes people often feel just as lost. At the end. Perhaps it appears different, but just as valid. And maybe not nearly as extreme. Every bit as important. The fact is: I have had many tools and years at my disposal to process my problems. And the fact that I discuss my problems is something that I have been doing my entire life. They have been well known since middle school. The fact that I had severe issues was not a secret. My problems were exploded out of me. However, some people have serious problems, but they are not so vocal as I. Believe they are every bit as damaging to their souls.
As mine go: it is imperative that people are aware of this fact. Believe this an entirely foreign concept for me. Achieving a semblance of balance. Serenity. My elation is real. That for some reason I am alive. When I shouldn’t be.
And many people would give anything for life and do-overs and aren’t given one. Some die from diseases in childhood, etc. Accidents. Etc.
Most of my life was spent longing to die. Every. Single. Night. Without fail I prayed to die in my sleep. Every morning I prayed some random accident would kill me. And I say this matter-of-factly. Not as call for help. Not as a badge of honor. I am not the only one that has had or has these thoughts. I explained it to someone as such. Writing and talking about my former life, my former self is to me like writing about a fictional character in a novel. And I truthfully cannot believe an individual would treat themselves like that or think the ways I did.
And that is my point. Many of my actions were blatantly horrific. I did, and clearly still, enjoy the spotlight. It is not an aspect of myself I like very much. It is not easy to go from feeling worthless to being told you are an inspiration. Not easy. But impossible? Invariably, no.
The individual faced with, let’s say, cancer. In no way are their problems less valid than mine. Truth be told, an individual who longs for life, yet has an illness that may take it away: might have a more difficult situation at hand. At one point (and this is isn’t an attempt to offend), being diagnosed with a terminal illness would have thrilled me. It would thrill me to no end to know that I did not have to take matters into my own hands.
But a peer not liking me? That would have been the worst possible thing. For some reason we don’t think something like that is important. Because its not so in your face. If anyone has ever been bullied or tormented as a child or teenager: I am quite certain they know severe pain. If someone has lost relationships and possessions because of substance abuse: surely, they do, as well.
Pain is relative. One person’s pain may look different than the others, but if it enough to hurt: it is pain. Emotional or mental. It is valid.