Although today's topic may seem somewhat contradictory to my regular theory of "Oh, do whatever you have to do to help ease the pain", but it is indeed different. It is one thing to do constructive and expressive stuff to help pass time and channel the hurt out pending when you feel better, but it is an entirely different thing to try to fill up an emptiness created by the pain you feel. I mean, eventually, the emptiness will have to be filled up but only with raisins, sunshine and peace. This is not always the case...scratch that. This is NEVER the case when we are not patient enough for organic healing.We tend to fabricate all sorts of lies to ourselves about what we can suffocate the pain with.
We try sex. Meaningless intercourse with people we are meaningless to. Even worse off, meaningless intercourse with meaningful people who we mean something to but mean nothing to us... We see them, but we do not see them. We touch them, but we do not feel them... When it is over and done, we say goodbye and we actually mean it. This is a typical case of being bad at maths. Emptiness x emptiness= More emptiness. Slow down. Absorb the uneventfulness of life in the moment. Sadness is one of life's many viruses. It takes it's full course; after which, you will be just fine.
I'm currently trying food. "That must be safe to do when you're sad", you're probably thinking. Who am I really kidding? It is as destructive as it looks safe. Might just even be worse than sex because at least, you get to lose some weight while getting your jiggy on. Lol. If not for anything, what I can confidently tell you right now is that you lose more confidence when you are in emotional turmoil and out of shape. Your fears will seem harder to face. Your goals might seem harder to reach. This is a note to myself. Work out. Work your ass out. You can start tomorrow after being a glutton today, but no later than tomorrow. If you can fill the emptiness with a few lean muscles, then that's a much lesser evil.
We try drugs. here's how it works. You dwell in an utter valley of sheer hurt. And then, here's this beautiful helicopter that will make you rise to a level where you can see mountain ranges. The copter takes you upwards and dives sideways and around and around and then it starts to lose gas... And like a noisily deflating balloon, it brings you lower, and lower, and lower and delivers you into such a beautiful bed of the exact same problems. Now you prefer the view up there so you're like "hey, why don't I stay up there a while?". Nobody will eventually care about how much pain turned you into an addict... Do you want to do that? Spend a lifetime explaining how you got there?
Although alcohol is a drug, it deserves to stand a bit apart as its main aim is to draw gibberish lines on that empty page in your life and make you admire it as art. You just want to keep scribbling. Scribble so hard, you can hardly decipher the whiteness of the page from the blueness of the ink. Pain may not be directly harmful to your liver, but alcohol is.
I can only imagine the excruciating screams in your soul and all the above may serve as a great bite down, but at some point, we have to endure it. Moderation is key... Don't be caught neck deep.
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