Jump to content
World's Largest Herpes Support Group
Brokenforever

Just read this...a powerful read

Recommended Posts

Brokenforever

I emerge from this conversation dumbfounded. I've seen this a million times before, but it still gets me every time. 

I’m listening to a man tell a story. A woman he knows was in a devastating car accident; her life shattered in an instant. She now lives in a state of near-permanent pain; a paraplegic; many of her hopes stolen.

He tells of how she had been a mess before the accident, but that the tragedy had engendered positive changes in her life. That she was, as a result of this devastation, living a wonderful life.

And then he utters the words. The words that are responsible for nothing less than emotional, spiritual and psychological violence:

Everything happens for a reason. That this was something that had to happen in order for her to grow.

That's the kind of bullshit that destroys lives. And it is categorically untrue. 

It is amazing to me that so many of these myths persist—and that is why I share actionable tools and strategies to work with your pain in my free newsletter. These myths are nothing more than platitudes cloaked as sophistication, and they preclude us from doing the one and only thing we must do when our lives are turned upside down: grieve.

You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've heard these countless times. You've probably even uttered them a few times yourself. And every single one of them needs to be annihilated.

Let me be crystal clear: if you've faced a tragedy and someone tells you in any way, shape or form that your tragedy was meant to be, that it happened for a reason, that it will make you a better person, or that taking responsibility for it will fix it, you have every right to remove them from your life.

Grief is brutally painful. Grief does not only occur when someone dies. When relationships fall apart, you grieve. When opportunities are shattered, you grieve. When dreams die, you grieve. When illnesses wreck you, you grieve.

So I’m going to repeat a few words I’ve uttered countless times; words so powerful and honest they tear at the hubris of every jackass who participates in the debasing of the grieving:

Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried. 

These words come from my dear friend Megan Devine, one of the only writers in the field of loss and trauma I endorse. These words are so poignant because they aim right at the pathetic platitudes our culture has come to embody on an increasingly hopeless level. Losing a child cannot be fixed. Being diagnosed with a debilitating illness cannot be fixed. Facing the betrayal of your closest confidante cannot be fixed. 

They can only be carried.

I hate to break it to you, but although devastation can lead to growth, it often doesn't. The reality is that it often destroys lives. And the real calamity is that this happens precisely because we've replaced grieving with advice. With platitudes. With our absence.  

I now live an extraordinary life. I've been deeply blessed by the opportunities I've had and the radically unconventional life I've built for myself. Yet even with that said, I'm hardly being facetious when I say that loss has not in and of itself made me a better person. In fact, in some ways it's hardened me.

While so much loss has made me acutely aware and empathetic of the pains of others, it has made me more insular and predisposed to hide. I have a more cynical view of human nature, and a greater impatience with those who are unfamiliar with what loss does to people.

Above all, I've been left with a pervasive survivor’s guilt that has haunted me all my life. This guilt is really the genesis of my hiding, self-sabotage and brokenness.

In short, my pain has never been eradicated, I've just learned to channel it into my work with others. I consider it a great privilege to work with others in pain, but to say that my losses somehow had to happen in order for my gifts to grow would be to trample on the memories of all those I lost too young; all those who suffered needlessly, and all those who faced the same trials I did early in life, but who did not make it. 

I'm simply not going to do that. I'm not going to construct some delusional narrative fallacy for myself so that I can feel better about being alive. I'm not going to assume that God ordained me for life instead of all the others so that I could do what I do now. And I'm certainly not going to pretend that I've made it through simply because I was strong enough; that I became "successful" because I "took responsibility."

There’s a lot of “take responsibility” platitudes in the personal development space, and they are largely nonsense. People tell others to take responsibility when they don’t want to understand.

Because understanding is harder than posturing. Telling someone to “take responsibility” for their loss is a form of benevolent masturbation. It’s the inverse of inspirational porn: it’s sanctimonious porn.

Personal responsibility implies that there’s something to take responsibility for. You don’t take responsibility for being raped or losing your child. You take responsibility for how you choose to live in the wake of the horrors that confront you, but you don't choose whether you grieve. We're not that smart or powerful. When hell visits us, we don't get to escape grieving.

This is why all the platitudes and fixes and posturing are so dangerous: in unleashing them upon those we claim to love, we deny them the right to grieve.

In so doing, we deny them the right to be human. We steal a bit of their freedom precisely when they're standing at the intersection of their greatest fragility and despair.

No one—and I mean no one—has that authority. Though we claim it all the time.

The irony is that the only thing that even canbe "responsible" amid loss is grieving. 

So if anyone tells you some form of get over it, move on, or rise above, you can let them go.

If anyone avoids you amidst loss, or pretends like it didn’t happen, or disappears from your life, you can let them go.

If anyone tells you that all is not lost, that it happened for a reason, that you’ll become better as a result of your grief, you can let them go.

Let me reiterate: all of those platitudes are bullshit

You are not responsible to those who try to shove them down your throat. You can let them go. 

I’m not saying you should. That is up to you, and only up to you. It isn't an easy decision to make and should be made carefully. But I want you to understand that you can.

I've grieved many times in my life. I've been overwhelmed with shame and self-hatred so strong it’s nearly killed me.

The ones who helped—the only ones who helped—were those who were there. And said nothing

In that nothingness, they did everything.

I am here—I have lived—because they chose to love me. They loved me in their silence, in their willingness to suffer with me, alongside me, and through me. They loved me in their desire to be as uncomfortable, as destroyed, as I was, if only for a week, an hour, even just a few minutes.

Most people have no idea how utterly powerful this is.

Are there ways to find "healing" amid devastation? Yes. Can one be "transformed" by the hell life thrusts upon them? Absolutely. But it does not happen if one is not permitted to grieve. Because grief itself is not an obstacle. 

The obstacles come later. The choices as to how to live; how to carry what we have lost; how to weave a new mosaic for ourselves? Those come in the wake of grief. It cannot be any other way. 

Grief is woven into the fabric of the human experience. If it is not permitted to occur, its absence pillages everything that remains: the fragile, vulnerable shell you might become in the face of catastrophe.

Yet our culture has treated grief as a problem to be solved, an illness to be healed, or both. In the process, we've done everything we can to avoid, ignore, or transform grief. As a result, when you're faced with tragedy you usually find that you're no longer surrounded by people, you're surrounded by platitudes. 

What to Offer Instead

When a person is devastated by grief, the last thing they need is advice. Their world has been shattered. This means that the act of inviting someone—anyone—into their world is an act of great risk. To try and fix or rationalize or wash away their pain only deepens their terror.

Instead, the most powerful thing you can do is acknowledge. Literally say the words: 

I acknowledge your pain. I am here with you.

Note that I said with you, not for you. For implies that you're going to do something. That is not for you to enact. But to stand with your loved one, to suffer with them, to listen to them, to do everything but something is incredibly powerful.

There is no greater act than acknowledgment. And acknowledgment requires no training, no special skills, no expertise. It only requires the willingness to be present with a wounded soul, and to stay present, as long as is necessary.

Be there. Only be there. Do not leave when you feel uncomfortable or when you feel like you're not doing anything. In fact, it is when you feel uncomfortable and like you're not doing anything that you must stay.

Because it is in those places—in the shadows of horror we rarely allow ourselves to enter—where the beginnings of healing are found. This healing is found when we have others who are willing to enter that space alongside us. Every grieving person on earth needs these people.

Thus I beg you, I plead with you, to be one of these people.

You are more needed than you will ever know. 

And when you find yourself in need of those people, find them. I guarantee they are there. 

Everyone else can go. 

 

Felt I'd heard many of these words... Grief is grief, for loss of ourselves, situations now in. Herpes will not make me better. 

Edited by Brokenforever

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
JBnATL

I am sorry you feel this way.  Having chatted with thousands of Herpsters over they years I know many who have said getting this virus did change their lives for the better.  I hope you can at least accept what you have and move on.  Many people on here are praying for you :pray:

JB

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
LillianPanos

You know what I think many things happen for a reason, do I think everything happens for a reason I dont.  But you know what sh__ happens and it happens to great people like you and me too! My best friend died 2 years from lung cancer she had a shame from that as she smoked.  She would have loved to have H1 and H2 to still be living! But that did not happen for her... This site gave me hope and relief and courage to accept this! I try to give back when I can, as I was sooo desperate and got help! Hope you find some relief and acceptance!

 

On 10/30/2016 at 5:59 PM, Brokenforever said:

I emerge from this conversation dumbfounded. I've seen this a million times before, but it still gets me every time. 

I’m listening to a man tell a story. A woman he knows was in a devastating car accident; her life shattered in an instant. She now lives in a state of near-permanent pain; a paraplegic; many of her hopes stolen.

He tells of how she had been a mess before the accident, but that the tragedy had engendered positive changes in her life. That she was, as a result of this devastation, living a wonderful life.

And then he utters the words. The words that are responsible for nothing less than emotional, spiritual and psychological violence:

Everything happens for a reason. That this was something that had to happen in order for her to grow.

That's the kind of bullshit that destroys lives. And it is categorically untrue. 

It is amazing to me that so many of these myths persist—and that is why I share actionable tools and strategies to work with your pain in my free newsletter. These myths are nothing more than platitudes cloaked as sophistication, and they preclude us from doing the one and only thing we must do when our lives are turned upside down: grieve.

You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've heard these countless times. You've probably even uttered them a few times yourself. And every single one of them needs to be annihilated.

Let me be crystal clear: if you've faced a tragedy and someone tells you in any way, shape or form that your tragedy was meant to be, that it happened for a reason, that it will make you a better person, or that taking responsibility for it will fix it, you have every right to remove them from your life.

Grief is brutally painful. Grief does not only occur when someone dies. When relationships fall apart, you grieve. When opportunities are shattered, you grieve. When dreams die, you grieve. When illnesses wreck you, you grieve.

So I’m going to repeat a few words I’ve uttered countless times; words so powerful and honest they tear at the hubris of every jackass who participates in the debasing of the grieving:

Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried. 

These words come from my dear friend Megan Devine, one of the only writers in the field of loss and trauma I endorse. These words are so poignant because they aim right at the pathetic platitudes our culture has come to embody on an increasingly hopeless level. Losing a child cannot be fixed. Being diagnosed with a debilitating illness cannot be fixed. Facing the betrayal of your closest confidante cannot be fixed. 

They can only be carried.

I hate to break it to you, but although devastation can lead to growth, it often doesn't. The reality is that it often destroys lives. And the real calamity is that this happens precisely because we've replaced grieving with advice. With platitudes. With our absence.  

I now live an extraordinary life. I've been deeply blessed by the opportunities I've had and the radically unconventional life I've built for myself. Yet even with that said, I'm hardly being facetious when I say that loss has not in and of itself made me a better person. In fact, in some ways it's hardened me.

While so much loss has made me acutely aware and empathetic of the pains of others, it has made me more insular and predisposed to hide. I have a more cynical view of human nature, and a greater impatience with those who are unfamiliar with what loss does to people.

Above all, I've been left with a pervasive survivor’s guilt that has haunted me all my life. This guilt is really the genesis of my hiding, self-sabotage and brokenness.

In short, my pain has never been eradicated, I've just learned to channel it into my work with others. I consider it a great privilege to work with others in pain, but to say that my losses somehow had to happen in order for my gifts to grow would be to trample on the memories of all those I lost too young; all those who suffered needlessly, and all those who faced the same trials I did early in life, but who did not make it. 

I'm simply not going to do that. I'm not going to construct some delusional narrative fallacy for myself so that I can feel better about being alive. I'm not going to assume that God ordained me for life instead of all the others so that I could do what I do now. And I'm certainly not going to pretend that I've made it through simply because I was strong enough; that I became "successful" because I "took responsibility."

There’s a lot of “take responsibility” platitudes in the personal development space, and they are largely nonsense. People tell others to take responsibility when they don’t want to understand.

Because understanding is harder than posturing. Telling someone to “take responsibility” for their loss is a form of benevolent masturbation. It’s the inverse of inspirational porn: it’s sanctimonious porn.

Personal responsibility implies that there’s something to take responsibility for. You don’t take responsibility for being raped or losing your child. You take responsibility for how you choose to live in the wake of the horrors that confront you, but you don't choose whether you grieve. We're not that smart or powerful. When hell visits us, we don't get to escape grieving.

This is why all the platitudes and fixes and posturing are so dangerous: in unleashing them upon those we claim to love, we deny them the right to grieve.

In so doing, we deny them the right to be human. We steal a bit of their freedom precisely when they're standing at the intersection of their greatest fragility and despair.

No one—and I mean no one—has that authority. Though we claim it all the time.

The irony is that the only thing that even canbe "responsible" amid loss is grieving. 

So if anyone tells you some form of get over it, move on, or rise above, you can let them go.

If anyone avoids you amidst loss, or pretends like it didn’t happen, or disappears from your life, you can let them go.

If anyone tells you that all is not lost, that it happened for a reason, that you’ll become better as a result of your grief, you can let them go.

Let me reiterate: all of those platitudes are bullshit

You are not responsible to those who try to shove them down your throat. You can let them go. 

I’m not saying you should. That is up to you, and only up to you. It isn't an easy decision to make and should be made carefully. But I want you to understand that you can.

I've grieved many times in my life. I've been overwhelmed with shame and self-hatred so strong it’s nearly killed me.

The ones who helped—the only ones who helped—were those who were there. And said nothing

In that nothingness, they did everything.

I am here—I have lived—because they chose to love me. They loved me in their silence, in their willingness to suffer with me, alongside me, and through me. They loved me in their desire to be as uncomfortable, as destroyed, as I was, if only for a week, an hour, even just a few minutes.

Most people have no idea how utterly powerful this is.

Are there ways to find "healing" amid devastation? Yes. Can one be "transformed" by the hell life thrusts upon them? Absolutely. But it does not happen if one is not permitted to grieve. Because grief itself is not an obstacle. 

The obstacles come later. The choices as to how to live; how to carry what we have lost; how to weave a new mosaic for ourselves? Those come in the wake of grief. It cannot be any other way. 

Grief is woven into the fabric of the human experience. If it is not permitted to occur, its absence pillages everything that remains: the fragile, vulnerable shell you might become in the face of catastrophe.

Yet our culture has treated grief as a problem to be solved, an illness to be healed, or both. In the process, we've done everything we can to avoid, ignore, or transform grief. As a result, when you're faced with tragedy you usually find that you're no longer surrounded by people, you're surrounded by platitudes. 

What to Offer Instead

When a person is devastated by grief, the last thing they need is advice. Their world has been shattered. This means that the act of inviting someone—anyone—into their world is an act of great risk. To try and fix or rationalize or wash away their pain only deepens their terror.

Instead, the most powerful thing you can do is acknowledge. Literally say the words: 

I acknowledge your pain. I am here with you.

Note that I said with you, not for you. For implies that you're going to do something. That is not for you to enact. But to stand with your loved one, to suffer with them, to listen to them, to do everything but something is incredibly powerful.

There is no greater act than acknowledgment. And acknowledgment requires no training, no special skills, no expertise. It only requires the willingness to be present with a wounded soul, and to stay present, as long as is necessary.

Be there. Only be there. Do not leave when you feel uncomfortable or when you feel like you're not doing anything. In fact, it is when you feel uncomfortable and like you're not doing anything that you must stay.

Because it is in those places—in the shadows of horror we rarely allow ourselves to enter—where the beginnings of healing are found. This healing is found when we have others who are willing to enter that space alongside us. Every grieving person on earth needs these people.

Thus I beg you, I plead with you, to be one of these people.

You are more needed than you will ever know. 

And when you find yourself in need of those people, find them. I guarantee they are there. 

Everyone else can go. 

 

Felt I'd heard many of these words... Grief is grief, for loss of ourselves, situations now in. Herpes will not make me better. 

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Brokenforever

I will never accept this. It's terrible, and it's on par with hiv. No cure. As for someone wanting h1 or h2 I doubt it. 

I never asked for an std, I've lived a healthy life, never smoked. But now I have an incurable disease. I had protected sex and still ended up with an std. This is an epidemic, and still we wait for a cure. I don't want a therapeutic cure. I want this out of me. I've paid into a health care which does nothing for me. If I had anything else I'd be on a treatment plan. If I had cancer id have a good chance of cure. All the complacency has led to no cure. So while everyone accepts this... It will continue. 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Herpadoodledoo

Accepting that hsv1 or 2 is a part of your life isn't the same as not wanting a cure. Accepting that this is a part of your reality and trying to be the best human you can be, despite obstacles life throws at you, is not admitting defeat. It brings hope to you and to others to show that life and happiness doesn't end simply because negative things "we didn't ask for," have happened. We didn't ask for sentient consciousness either, but we got it all the same, and it's pointless to be negative all the time and bring others down. 

So what's the other option aside for rolling with what life gives you? Screaming up to the heavens saying "why me?" Creating billboards that say "CURE NOW OR BUST?" Medical professionals are TRYING. It is HARD to completely cure. That doesn't mean it's impossible, but complacency isn't the problem. Attitude is the problem. 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Lisajd

@Brokenforever you have been like this for how long now.  You arent trying to help yourself or change your thinking.  Loads of people leas healthy lives practice safe sex and get h.  But they get on with their lives.  

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
LillianPanos

I meant to ad act like your accepting it fake it til you make it! Do u believe I accepted this? Then maybe this will help you accept.  Try to be jus willing. I will pray for you...we can shape how wr feel about things...

6 hours ago, Brokenforever said:

I will never accept this. It's terrible, and it's on par with hiv. No cure. As for someone wanting h1 or h2 I doubt it. 

I never asked for an std, I've lived a healthy life, never smoked. But now I have an incurable disease. I had protected sex and still ended up with an std. This is an epidemic, and still we wait for a cure. I don't want a therapeutic cure. I want this out of me. I've paid into a health care which does nothing for me. If I had anything else I'd be on a treatment plan. If I had cancer id have a good chance of cure. All the complacency has led to no cure. So while everyone accepts this... It will continue. 

 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
zeroyui

Hi! I'm also feeling down because of my herpes. I just got diagnosed 2 weeks ago. My outbreak was healed last week and it's starting to get itchy and tingling again. I don't know what to do. I'm from the Philippines, the treatment here is different from the states. please help me! my world is crumbling. Anyone from the Philippines?

5 hours ago, LillianPanos said:

I meant to ad act like your accepting it fake it til you make it! Do u believe I accepted this? Then maybe this will help you accept.  Try to be jus willing. I will pray for you...we can shape how wr feel about things...

 

HI Lillian. Are you from the Philippines?

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
JBnATL
5 minutes ago, zeroyui said:

Hi! I'm also feeling down because of my herpes. I just got diagnosed 2 weeks ago. My outbreak was healed last week and it's starting to get itchy and tingling again. I don't know what to do. I'm from the Philippines, the treatment here is different from the states. please help me! my world is crumbling. Anyone from the Philippines?

We don't often see people from the Philippines here but there have been some.  This website has a key word search function so if you search on that you may find the others who have come here in the past from there.

Where you live really doesn't have to let this virus affect your life.  I have chatted with people from all over the world and yes there are some countries that have strict laws/stigma on STDs, no one's life is perfect so how you let this virus control your life is completely up to you.

Good luck!

JB

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
LillianPanos
9 minutes ago, zeroyui said:

Hi! I'm also feeling down because of my herpes. I just got diagnosed 2 weeks ago. My outbreak was healed last week and it's starting to get itchy and tingling again. I don't know what to do. I'm from the Philippines, the treatment here is different from the states. please help me! my world is crumbling. Anyone from the Philippines?

HI Lillian. Are you from the Philippines?

No fort lauderdale florida! Where are yoi in the Philippines?

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
LillianPanos
10 minutes ago, zeroyui said:

Hi! I'm also feeling down because of my herpes. I just got diagnosed 2 weeks ago. My outbreak was healed last week and it's starting to get itchy and tingling again. I don't know what to do. I'm from the Philippines, the treatment here is different from the states. please help me! my world is crumbling. Anyone from the Philippines?

HI Lillian. Are you from the Philippines?

Try to use coconut oil on the area bothering you, I combine it with tea tree oil, just use a little of that tea tree oil.  Also for tingling I use aloe gel seems to numb it a bit...Hope this helps!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
zeroyui
2 minutes ago, LillianPanos said:

Try to use coconut oil on the area bothering you, I combine it with tea tree oil, just use a little of that tea tree oil.  Also for tingling I use aloe gel seems to numb it a bit...Hope this helps!

I'll combine coconut oil with tea tree oil? is it more effective than acyclovir ointment? how fast can it heal the lesions?

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
JBnATL

Try all of them, hopefully something will offer you relief.

JB

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
zeroyui
6 minutes ago, LillianPanos said:

No fort lauderdale florida! Where are yoi in the Philippines?

Manila. People here are not open if they have herpes or not so I'm having a hard time tracking people with the same disease. Please let me know if you have Filipino friend who has this virus. The blood test here for HSV is too expensive and they require not to take a test because they say that it is obviously herpes. I just want me and my partner to take a test because my partner doesn't have symptoms. we don't know where I get it because it only showed during our 7th month but we've been having intercourse since the first month. I don't understand.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
fitzjust1

Anyone who wants to join our asia group we have nearly 150 people from round asia and Philippine members growing all the time 

Its a secret group, nothing will show to your friends. 

Just add me facebook and i can add you you

https://www.facebook.com/jus.fitzpatrick Dont go through this alone!!!

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Micah

Can't stand "everything happens for a reason" it's a way for us to rationalize and live with tragedy. It'd be much scarier to admit there's no guardian angel looking out for us, things just happen. Life is like roullete. Random. 

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Sean123
On 30/10/2016 at 5:59 PM, Brokenforever said:

I emerge from this conversation dumbfounded. I've seen this a million times before, but it still gets me every time. 

I’m listening to a man tell a story. A woman he knows was in a devastating car accident; her life shattered in an instant. She now lives in a state of near-permanent pain; a paraplegic; many of her hopes stolen.

He tells of how she had been a mess before the accident, but that the tragedy had engendered positive changes in her life. That she was, as a result of this devastation, living a wonderful life.

And then he utters the words. The words that are responsible for nothing less than emotional, spiritual and psychological violence:

Everything happens for a reason. That this was something that had to happen in order for her to grow.

That's the kind of bullshit that destroys lives. And it is categorically untrue. 

It is amazing to me that so many of these myths persist—and that is why I share actionable tools and strategies to work with your pain in my free newsletter. These myths are nothing more than platitudes cloaked as sophistication, and they preclude us from doing the one and only thing we must do when our lives are turned upside down: grieve.

You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've heard these countless times. You've probably even uttered them a few times yourself. And every single one of them needs to be annihilated.

Let me be crystal clear: if you've faced a tragedy and someone tells you in any way, shape or form that your tragedy was meant to be, that it happened for a reason, that it will make you a better person, or that taking responsibility for it will fix it, you have every right to remove them from your life.

Grief is brutally painful. Grief does not only occur when someone dies. When relationships fall apart, you grieve. When opportunities are shattered, you grieve. When dreams die, you grieve. When illnesses wreck you, you grieve.

So I’m going to repeat a few words I’ve uttered countless times; words so powerful and honest they tear at the hubris of every jackass who participates in the debasing of the grieving:

Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried. 

These words come from my dear friend Megan Devine, one of the only writers in the field of loss and trauma I endorse. These words are so poignant because they aim right at the pathetic platitudes our culture has come to embody on an increasingly hopeless level. Losing a child cannot be fixed. Being diagnosed with a debilitating illness cannot be fixed. Facing the betrayal of your closest confidante cannot be fixed. 

They can only be carried.

I hate to break it to you, but although devastation can lead to growth, it often doesn't. The reality is that it often destroys lives. And the real calamity is that this happens precisely because we've replaced grieving with advice. With platitudes. With our absence.  

I now live an extraordinary life. I've been deeply blessed by the opportunities I've had and the radically unconventional life I've built for myself. Yet even with that said, I'm hardly being facetious when I say that loss has not in and of itself made me a better person. In fact, in some ways it's hardened me.

While so much loss has made me acutely aware and empathetic of the pains of others, it has made me more insular and predisposed to hide. I have a more cynical view of human nature, and a greater impatience with those who are unfamiliar with what loss does to people.

Above all, I've been left with a pervasive survivor’s guilt that has haunted me all my life. This guilt is really the genesis of my hiding, self-sabotage and brokenness.

In short, my pain has never been eradicated, I've just learned to channel it into my work with others. I consider it a great privilege to work with others in pain, but to say that my losses somehow had to happen in order for my gifts to grow would be to trample on the memories of all those I lost too young; all those who suffered needlessly, and all those who faced the same trials I did early in life, but who did not make it. 

I'm simply not going to do that. I'm not going to construct some delusional narrative fallacy for myself so that I can feel better about being alive. I'm not going to assume that God ordained me for life instead of all the others so that I could do what I do now. And I'm certainly not going to pretend that I've made it through simply because I was strong enough; that I became "successful" because I "took responsibility."

There’s a lot of “take responsibility” platitudes in the personal development space, and they are largely nonsense. People tell others to take responsibility when they don’t want to understand.

Because understanding is harder than posturing. Telling someone to “take responsibility” for their loss is a form of benevolent masturbation. It’s the inverse of inspirational porn: it’s sanctimonious porn.

Personal responsibility implies that there’s something to take responsibility for. You don’t take responsibility for being raped or losing your child. You take responsibility for how you choose to live in the wake of the horrors that confront you, but you don't choose whether you grieve. We're not that smart or powerful. When hell visits us, we don't get to escape grieving.

This is why all the platitudes and fixes and posturing are so dangerous: in unleashing them upon those we claim to love, we deny them the right to grieve.

In so doing, we deny them the right to be human. We steal a bit of their freedom precisely when they're standing at the intersection of their greatest fragility and despair.

No one—and I mean no one—has that authority. Though we claim it all the time.

The irony is that the only thing that even canbe "responsible" amid loss is grieving. 

So if anyone tells you some form of get over it, move on, or rise above, you can let them go.

If anyone avoids you amidst loss, or pretends like it didn’t happen, or disappears from your life, you can let them go.

If anyone tells you that all is not lost, that it happened for a reason, that you’ll become better as a result of your grief, you can let them go.

Let me reiterate: all of those platitudes are bullshit

You are not responsible to those who try to shove them down your throat. You can let them go. 

I’m not saying you should. That is up to you, and only up to you. It isn't an easy decision to make and should be made carefully. But I want you to understand that you can.

I've grieved many times in my life. I've been overwhelmed with shame and self-hatred so strong it’s nearly killed me.

The ones who helped—the only ones who helped—were those who were there. And said nothing

In that nothingness, they did everything.

I am here—I have lived—because they chose to love me. They loved me in their silence, in their willingness to suffer with me, alongside me, and through me. They loved me in their desire to be as uncomfortable, as destroyed, as I was, if only for a week, an hour, even just a few minutes.

Most people have no idea how utterly powerful this is.

Are there ways to find "healing" amid devastation? Yes. Can one be "transformed" by the hell life thrusts upon them? Absolutely. But it does not happen if one is not permitted to grieve. Because grief itself is not an obstacle. 

The obstacles come later. The choices as to how to live; how to carry what we have lost; how to weave a new mosaic for ourselves? Those come in the wake of grief. It cannot be any other way. 

Grief is woven into the fabric of the human experience. If it is not permitted to occur, its absence pillages everything that remains: the fragile, vulnerable shell you might become in the face of catastrophe.

Yet our culture has treated grief as a problem to be solved, an illness to be healed, or both. In the process, we've done everything we can to avoid, ignore, or transform grief. As a result, when you're faced with tragedy you usually find that you're no longer surrounded by people, you're surrounded by platitudes. 

What to Offer Instead

When a person is devastated by grief, the last thing they need is advice. Their world has been shattered. This means that the act of inviting someone—anyone—into their world is an act of great risk. To try and fix or rationalize or wash away their pain only deepens their terror.

Instead, the most powerful thing you can do is acknowledge. Literally say the words: 

I acknowledge your pain. I am here with you.

Note that I said with you, not for you. For implies that you're going to do something. That is not for you to enact. But to stand with your loved one, to suffer with them, to listen to them, to do everything but something is incredibly powerful.

There is no greater act than acknowledgment. And acknowledgment requires no training, no special skills, no expertise. It only requires the willingness to be present with a wounded soul, and to stay present, as long as is necessary.

Be there. Only be there. Do not leave when you feel uncomfortable or when you feel like you're not doing anything. In fact, it is when you feel uncomfortable and like you're not doing anything that you must stay.

Because it is in those places—in the shadows of horror we rarely allow ourselves to enter—where the beginnings of healing are found. This healing is found when we have others who are willing to enter that space alongside us. Every grieving person on earth needs these people.

Thus I beg you, I plead with you, to be one of these people.

You are more needed than you will ever know. 

And when you find yourself in need of those people, find them. I guarantee they are there. 

Everyone else can go. 

 

Felt I'd heard many of these words... Grief is grief, for loss of ourselves, situations now in. Herpes will not make me better. 

I have recently fallen into a dark stage in my life again and it has mostly to do with this. I am losing sleep,only getting a few hours of it a night.  It is impacting my daily life, work, relationships - I have no more ambition,no more motivation. I feel dirty, damaged, hopeless.  Realistically, we are years and years away from any "potential cure" and all we have is outdated and ineffective medication that just reminds us daily of how much we fucked up - a type writer in 2017.

If only I stayed in that night, if only I never went to robbys that night, if only I never drove him to that girls house, if only this and that. These thoughts will haunt me for the rest of my life and I feel the only relief to my pain and misery is suicide. 

I am willing to try just about anything and am begging khalili to let me be the guinea pig in the near future - give me a chance to save my life in this dark world. Help me see  light at the end of the tunnel.

No living creature should ever experience the physical and more importantly, the psychological pain we feel.

Edited by Sean123

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Lisajd

Have you been to counselling for this.   You say no one should go through it but really most people live with it quite well.  If you get loads of symptoms i sympathise. Otherwise only you can control the psychological.impact

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.


  • The Hive is Thriving!

    • Total Topics
      69,556
    • Total Posts
      468,494
  • Posts

    • RNY18
      No Western Blot. High positives with both IgG & IgM tests plus symptoms .
    • Quest
      I doubt it is HSV. I agree with them. If anything I would look at other STDs for throat symptoms. Make sure you are clear from everything
    • Laurenhelena
      I went to see clinic and she said they only take a swab if I have blisters. She was very dismissive of everything I said - I heard somewhere that GPS don’t do blood tests anymore for herpes cause it was causing significant mental health problems due to being incurable  I’m ambivalent about blood tests as they don’t seem accurate and whatever answer I get there’s still a part of me that will be unsure and will fuel anxiety   i thought it was difficult to get genital herpes in throat?But the flu like symptoms afterwards was nothing I’ve experienced before and happened the day after. Would this be as serious as genital herpes ?    I just find it hard to sit and wait for any bump on my vagina and it’s all I can think about 
    • Quest
      I think you should search the India thread
    • Quest
      I think you should believe them. Good luck
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue.