Despair

It’s such a weird feeling isn’t it? Like bring trapped in a hole, while also falling constantly deeper and deeper. Like any other person, I’ve had my fair share of despair and a feeling of despondence that’s like an ever engulfing hole that only gets bigger and bigger. The harder I struggle and try to crawl out of it, the faster it swallows me. As self-absorbed as it sounds, it has never brought me much comfort when people say things like, “it could be worse” or “at least you didn’t get hit by a bus and still have all your fingers”. Admittedly it could be worse yes, but it doesn’t help to make the current situation feel any better. Sometimes it makes it worse, because now I have to also worry about the potential of losing something like the use of my legs, which would plunge me deeper into despair.

I always hear things about the five stages of grief – about how people go through all five stages (usually in order) to process an event or life change and begin the healing process to move forward with their lives. I’ve always felt a little odd that my process isn’t quite five steps, but more the last three of bargaining, depression and acceptance. And that fourth stage of depression lasts a helluva long time. I sometimes wonder if I have anger issues because of my general inability to properly express it. Or maybe the inordinate amount of energy despair takes sucks up the others so I don’t get a chance. Either way, it is the most prevalent feeling. I’m sure it’s different for everyone, but the despair I feel tends to take on a strange, palpable salty quality that I can feel in my chest. Like my insides are trying to do the crying that my face doesn’t do very well.

Despair is such a strong feeling, is it any wonder it drives people to do crazy things? Sure, any strong emotion can drive us to do illogical and dangerous things, but out of all of them despair is the scariest, all-encompassing one to me. I sometimes wonder if one of these times I won’t be able to work past it and simply give up, and what that would look like. Other times I wonder how much different things would be if I didn’t experience it as strongly as I do, and I simply brush it off and get on with my life rather than being stuck like a relic of the past.

At times it gets hard to tell yourself that it gets better. And maybe it doesn’t ever get better. But we learn to cope and find ways to deal with, until it becomes a new normal for us. it can be hard to get perspective, and it’s just hard to see the forest for the trees. But it will get better at some point. At least that’s what I have to tell myself to get through this.