Free Advice
(A friend asked for help. I gave them this. I thought you might need to hear it, too.)
Stop kicking yourself in the teeth. The world does that well enough all on its own. There's no need to help it.
As someone who suffered a divorce--the kindliest, most gentle, most harmless divorce in the world--I can tell you that even that kindly, gentle, harmless divorce hurt so badly, I wanted to die. Literally.
Sitting in my no-bedroom apartment, surrounded by books with no bookshelves, I went out on the balcony and stared down the five floors and thought about jumping. The pain was so great, I did not want to live anymore.
But I told myself, "I'll do it tomorrow" And I walked back inside and began teaching myself how to cook. (How to really cook; not just throw stuff in a pot and watch it heat up.)
Every day, the pain faded just a little bit. I went out on the porch, looked down the five stories, and the desire to jump was just a little less. I stood out there a little less. And the strength I needed to come back inside was just a little less.
All things pass. This will, too.
It doesn't seem like that right now, but it will. You don't need faith to believe that. I'm living proof. So are millions of people who suffer the same pain you're suffering right now, and years later, look back at that time with the same eyes that I do.
Now, it seems like misery. Years from now, it will only be a memory.
All things pass. This will, too.
PS: I don't know who you are. I don't know your name. I don't know your face. I wouldn't recognize you in a crowd. But right now, you are in pain. True pain. And right now, you need to know this.
I love you.
Someone loves you. And they don't care who you are.
Stop kicking yourself in the teeth. The world does that well enough all on its own. There's no need to help it.
As someone who suffered a divorce--the kindliest, most gentle, most harmless divorce in the world--I can tell you that even that kindly, gentle, harmless divorce hurt so badly, I wanted to die. Literally.
Sitting in my no-bedroom apartment, surrounded by books with no bookshelves, I went out on the balcony and stared down the five floors and thought about jumping. The pain was so great, I did not want to live anymore.
But I told myself, "I'll do it tomorrow" And I walked back inside and began teaching myself how to cook. (How to really cook; not just throw stuff in a pot and watch it heat up.)
Every day, the pain faded just a little bit. I went out on the porch, looked down the five stories, and the desire to jump was just a little less. I stood out there a little less. And the strength I needed to come back inside was just a little less.
All things pass. This will, too.
It doesn't seem like that right now, but it will. You don't need faith to believe that. I'm living proof. So are millions of people who suffer the same pain you're suffering right now, and years later, look back at that time with the same eyes that I do.
Now, it seems like misery. Years from now, it will only be a memory.
All things pass. This will, too.
PS: I don't know who you are. I don't know your name. I don't know your face. I wouldn't recognize you in a crowd. But right now, you are in pain. True pain. And right now, you need to know this.
I love you.
Someone loves you. And they don't care who you are.