Pain

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.” –  Laurell K. Hamilton

How much pain can a man endure? How much suffering? How much hunger? How much loneliness? How many disappointments, setbacks, disasters, heartbreaks?

How many tears a man can shed before he can’t cry anymore?

How many times he has to be told no until he believes it?

And the answer is simple.

More.

Always more.

You reach the breaking point. You reach the end, or so you told yourself. And every single cell in your body tells you it’s game over, but you still keep on going.

Ever stepped outside and felt like it was too cold? You were too tired? Just didn’t feel like heading out?

What if you really had to?

You had no way but to go out into the cold.

You know what happens?

After a while you realize it’s not that cold. You kind of get used to it.

The same goes for pain. You get used to it.

You tell yourself stories. If this or that happened, you wouldn’t be able to go on. But you do. Every single time, you do.

There are some moments in our lives that mark the end of who we were and the beginning of something else. There’s a before and an after. Like walking through a storm.

These moments usually involve a lot of pain. A lot of suffering.

These moments usually involve losing something and realizing it is lost to us forever.

And you know what I learned? That no matter what you go through, no matter what happens to you, there will always be levels of suffering that you can’t even imagine.

One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor.

We never truly understand another’s suffering unless we’ve been through the same situation. Otherwise, it’s just pretending, an excuse to use our “empathy.”

Don’t think it’s true?

Is it hard to run? For you? Is it something difficult?

Imagine someone with no legs. Can you feel their pain?

Can you feel the pain of someone who can’t walk at all? Who has to be carried?

What about someone with no arms? No sight? No hearing?

One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor.

Think about that. Next time you feel like judging another person, next time you feel like telling them they’re too sensitive or whatnot.

“Now the standard cure for one who is sunk is to consider those in actual destitution or physical suffering—this is an all-weather beatitude for gloom in general and fairly salutary daytime advice for everyone. But at three o’clock in the morning, a forgotten package has the same tragic importance as a death sentence, and the cure doesn’t work—and in a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning, day after day.” – Francis Scott Fitzgerald

Our pain, our suffering, makes us unique. How we react, what meaning we derive from it, how we choose to escape from it or use it.

As for me. I want to get rid of this pain. I want to fight, and I’ll keep on fighting. Regardless of how beat down I feel, how demoralized…

It’s been more than a month since I’m struggling to raise funds to go to a dentist and fix a serious issue. Judge me all you want, but I am not going to die like a dog. It’s as simple as that.

If you want to help me, you can contribute any amount you see fit here.

If not, I understand.

But I will do whatever it takes to be healthy again.

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