"I'm going to jump out of the balcony, I can't stand this" goes on in my head, and for the first time in my life I'm really capable of doing it. No wonder, up until now it was the hope that kept me alive, now I'd like to know that I can live freely and happily. And it seems impossible.
It's not because I don't want to live that I want to die but the exact opposite. I want to die because I really really want to live, and see now that it's perhaps never going to be possible as I want. I may never again have the easy physicality of someone who has taken care of their needs. And it feels so bitter because now is exactly when I also know how I want to live, and almost what for as well. I could be so sensitive, present, patient, open-minded, exploratory, softspoken, compassionate, courageous, physically relaxed.
Maybe those are the features I need to bring to my quest for physical healing, and hold on (my whole life has been holding on, and the whole physical problem now is the result of holding on in the wrong moment) a while still. P is helping, but I am the one who keeps me alive. My thinking goes on... "if you're ready to die, you're ready to do anything to find healing and to keep on living". As yet I still believe it.
Rohkea olet tuntemuksistasi ja kokemuksistasi. Huomasin, että vierähtikin ihan kunnolla aikaa kun luin monia mielenkiintoisia tekstejäsi, vaikka alun perin ajattelin vain katsastaa millainen blogi täältä löytyy.
VastaaPoistaKiitos.
Heikki