Some Thoughts on Suffering

We all suffer. Some of us more than others. Today, I’m having trouble writing sentences because there’s a demon in my brain that tells me nothing I say is worthwhile. Something I wrote earlier this afternoon:
It’s a Sunday afternoon, just after one o’clock, and I am sitting on the couch in my bedroom sobbing. I felt the tears brewing inside me a few minutes ago, and I could have suppressed them, could have forced myself to not do it. But then I didn’t know what else to do. I Googled “Is Crying good for you” and apparently, according to the sources I was reading, it is. It’s embarrassing that I Googled this. But I feel helpless. I can’t stop fixating on my hatred of my life.
I continued to cry for a long time. And I wrote more about all that I do not have and all that I feel I will never have. I scribbled on about my endless misery. I decided that the item on my list “Write blog post” could not be completed because anything I contributed to the world would simply add to someone else’s misery. I thought more about my own suffering, collapsed on my bed and wailed into my pillow. This deeper, more hysterical crying lasted for five minutes or so.
And then I stopped.
I felt lighter, as if I’d cried my way to a kind of catharsis. I needed to do something, but I didn’t know what. I tried to read some articles on line about alleviating depression. I read something about gratitude. I read something about exercise. I read something about Buddhism that revealed that I shouldn’t even try to make my suffering go away. I’d never achieve that. I The Buddha says, I learned, “Life is suffering.” I don’t know enough about Buddhism — yet— to understand the connotation of the word in this context. I do know that this concept consoled me. I made a decision: I needed to change the way my life unfolds on any given Sunday. I did some research, and I found a Buddhism class that meets next Sunday morning. I registered. I also found a volunteer project for New York Cares that’s happening next Sunday afternoon. I registered for that as well.
There was a band with a one hit wonder, I think, called Taking Back Sunday. Who knows what they meant by this phrase. For me, it means something simple: I will not continue to wallow in old patterns. I will get up next Sunday and I will do everything differently than I did today. If I feel terrible, I will accept that feeling. Sometimes we arrive at change through suffering. We crawl into the depths of who we are to find that we have no answers ourselves. We understand that we need to reach out towards the unknown—a new class, a new experience, a new friend—to make it through the day.

6 thoughts on “Some Thoughts on Suffering

  1. Pingback: Letting Go of Jealousy « your bipolar girl

  2. Hi there,

    I was diagnosed in the last few months. I found your blog and am so thankful for you. I’ve been reading almost everyday for the last few weeks; you describe so accurately and eloquently the emotions & feelings & thoughts I’ve been struggling with & trying to conquer.

    I write too. I’ve found that sharing even the dark stuff helps others too, if not more so. It helps others to not feel so alone. It helps others feel understood. You’ve done that for me & I’m sure countless others. I wrote the following poem the other day inspired by finding your blog. Thank you again for all you do. Sending you light & love as we continue navigating this path.

    – Tiffany R.

    Red Eyes, Blue Souls, & Green Pastures
    by: Tiffany R. 02/09/2015

    This condition
    This disposition
    This everyday mission

    To push, pull & fight
    Back the center
    Toward what’s right

    Dragged & directed
    To the same phrases & phases
    So often disrespected

    Battling to make it happen
    We are light to be dampened
    We are darkness to champion

    Feelings stuck choked up in our throat
    Thoughts, with luck, keep us afloat
    Sailing the sea in the same weathered boat

    Still waters are just within reach
    Radiating gently with ripples of peace
    Where waves of calm flow steadfast to each


    • Thank you so much for writing, Tiffany. So happy you relate to the blog and what a beautiful poem thank you for sharing. 💗


  3. Yin & Yang.
    “I Never Promised You a Rose Garden.”
    Pain is a part of life and I don’t know how others seem to go along as if there isn’t any, but I don’t. Releasing tears feels similar to coming out of a hot bubble bath, as if all burdens have been washed off and I am starting fresh.
    That Sunday morning Buddha thing may be all you need to make the rest of day peaceful. I hope to hear more!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I believe that you have reached out to the universe in your desperation , searching for the way, and it responded by giving you some guidance on the next step to take. Oh, did you know that our tears contain many toxins? So crying is very good for you, healthy even. We who battle depression though need to watch whether or not our crying is the healthy sort. I think I’d you feel better after a cry it is the healthy sort. It is the kind that doesn’t stop and brings no relief that would be a red flag. I wish you the best in your search for peace of mind.

    Liked by 1 person

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