During a difficult night, I share my experience with my movement theater teacher. The pain I describe is familiar, something that surfaces from to time to time, originating from deep in my past. It surfaces once again; asking to be held, reworked and healed. The intensity of the pain makes it difficult to keep perspective.

Walking through Hell

December 24, 2013

To: Catherine [my movement theater teacher]

Felt some relief after our session and then the pain came back strong, unrelenting, suffering is pronounced.  Pain in chest [emotional pain that feels like tight squeezing] is consistent, no relief, not even for a second.  Hard to have conversation.  Called my friend Joy, but connection is difficult.  I know you are there, but I can’t feel you or anyone.  All I can feel is the compression in my heart, the burden, and the pain that will not go away.  Suicide is on my mind but can’t think clearly about a plan.  Don’t really want to die, just want relief from the suffering.  Continuing to lose weight.

Not sure if I can make it to the other side of this.  The pain is so pronounced.  I can’t really do anything but feel the suffering.  Don’t know how to comfort myself or get relief.

The suffering is so pronounced.

Thank you for your support and checking in.  It is appreciated and your support is substantial, but may not be enough to offset the circumstances of my life right now.

I continue to hold my chest and gently rock my torso forward and back.  I feel like puking.

Suffering is pronounced.

I feel strong resonance with burn victims right now.  [I have never been a burn victim, nor have I ever known one, so my description is based on perceptions from my imagination.]  When the body heals from really bad burns, from a fire that consumes most of the body, the recovery process is excruciating.  It is a kind of pain that most of us cannot even imagine.  All the doctors can do is give them drugs and try to make them comfortable, but they suffer every second, a kind of anguish that few can ever understand.  Their flesh is burnt to a crisp.  They lie in the hospital bed. Uncomfortable.  Antsy.  It hurts to move.  It hurts to not move.  The drugs sedate but only help minimally with the pain.  Those who survive must walk through hell to get to the other side.  Hell is a pain that takes one to the human threshold and holds them there.

Thank you for listening, Catherine. I pray I feel better next time we connect.


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