You wear your pain like a tightly knit sweater, becoming wrapped in it, safe in it. Even when the fabric itches and scratches at you still you slip yourself into it. The cold naked feeling of nothing is worse than the circus of tiny tickle bugs dancing around the inside of the sweater irritating you into madness. Madness is something. Pain is something. Something is better than nothing.
The worst kind of pain is the kind that has left you comfortably numb–the kind that is so familiar that you practically seek it out. It doesn’t hurt less, but you don’t respond to it the same way. You don’t cry out in retaliation. It doesn’t leave you shocked.
The worst kind of pain is the kind that slowly dissolves your hope. Hope is the last thing to die, they say. But maybe it’s the first. Once your hope is lost, your fighting spirit follows. You no longer care about stopping the pain. Tolerating it is enough.
The worst kind of pain is the one that makes you indifferent to your own suffering. You tried counting the tears but there were so many you lost count and then you stopped caring if you were even crying at all. It all became so routine, like breathing. You become so accustomed to it that you can’t recognize yourself without the pain. You can’t describe yourself without the pain. You don’t know how to live without it. It’s not just a part of you. It has become you. The worst kind of pain is the kind that claims your soul.
To live is to suffer. We will all experience hardships. Tragedy will touch all our lives. But there is a difference between going through a difficult period and pain/suffering becoming a lifestyle. When all you know is pain it’s a difficult to imagine life without it. But those are the moments when you must find your courage and push past the pain. Don’t give in to it and don’t become too comfortable in it. Live your best life despite the suffering. Remember, this too shall pass.