CW: detailed discussions of mental illness and brief mention of suicide. i can’t sleep, most nights. particularly recently. my boyfriend is an early riser with a physical labour job who prefers to be in bed before midnight — fuck him!!!!— which means that until around 4 or 5 am nearly every day, i live in my head, grounded only by the spring rain pittering outside my window and the rhythmic soundtrack of his sleeping breaths. it’s then when i’m forced to be alone with myself; it’s then when we have our little chats.
“If you keep waiting for the pain to end before you try to become whole, whatever that means, you’ll be waiting forever”
I started crying as soon as I read that. I’ve been waiting since I can remember to feel ok. After I look this way, after I have enough friends, after I’m in a relationship, after I paint this, I’ll feel proud of myself. And it never fixed anything, maybe a temporary bandaid at best. I’ve been watching the sunset a lot recently, and it helps me feel whole. I’ve taken walks and looked at the trees and felt the sun and I’ve felt whole. But what about when winter comes? How much can I really romanticize when I can barely stand being outside? Even as summer goes on, the sun shifts from comforting warmth to exhausting heat and I crave the winter. Maybe the only wholeness we can find is in our own thoughts and nature is there as a crutch. But anyway thank you for sharing this and I hope you can sleep well soon.
this was really beautiful. i wrote a piece similar to this, back in high school, as i was coming to terms with indulging in my own pain and what that meant for me and how bad it was or is or could be in love with my suffering. there were so many times i really relished in it (really resonating hard hard hard once catholicism cropped up) and felt like i couldn't have an outlet without hurting more but being told to hush it down.
I called my piece "sit down with your demon" because in my head, it was everyone, but very few resonated, and i had semi-monthly visits with the guidance counselor afterward (hehe)
i've never commented on anything like this before, but this really touched me-- I see it touched many people. I feel bad for the pain I have and I feel bad that I feel like a stereotype for the pain I have and how I treat it. but it's mine to have, it's my demon. your pain is yours, too. I'm glad you shared this conversation. having support is important, but in those quiet moments, it's really just yourself and yourself, and you have to hold hands and say love you and say see you tomorrow, and it's a grace that's important. i'm rambling and i'm in tears.
Not to sound like I'm having delusions of grandeur, but this essay arrived in my inbox in the middle of one of the hardest weeks of my life, during which sunsets (and rises, thanks insomnia!) have been my main source of grounding. Just as I finished reading this piece and scrolled past the last line, Us by Regina Spektor began playing on shuffle on my liked songs playlist on Spotify. I'm not sure if it's divine intervention, astrological alignment, my CSIS agent looking out for me, or likely coincidence, but it made me feel less alone.
So many excerpts resonate, but I think the one I needed most in this moment is: "both in politics and in relation to the self, one of the most radical ideas one can internalize is it doesn’t have to be like this. it doesn’t have to be like this, it doesn’t have to be like this, it doesn’t have to be like this. likewise, the most dangerous thing you can believe is that the current condition is inevitable." Thank you.
not expressing any real thoughts on unaliving, not even in the most private, no-audience conversations.
understanding that explaining doesn’t mean excusing, and still not knowing what to do with the guilt/shame.
thanks for putting it into words that don’t live in my head. i don’t have a solution but i don’t feel alone, and that’s a start. i hope that’s not romancing it, and that you also don’t feel alone!
i normally never leave comments on anything, but i just related so much to this. you’ve put into words stuff i feel all the time that i can never explain or even fully understand myself. thank you so much for writing this, truly had me in tears.
I felt so much of this. that feeling of inescapable guilt and shame even when you've grounded your actions in the reality that we all make mistakes, how it never just fades. the waiting, always waiting to feel whole. the desire to escape the pain, believing that you can't be whole, that if that pain were just not there anymore then you would be alright. the feeling that one day you'll fuck up and truly wont be able to turn back. and even just the dynamic of your format, becoming the person you speak to, running these conversations with yourself as you recount the uncountable number of questions you can't always answer. thank you so much for sharing this. for what its worth it made me feel a lot less alone, knowing these feelings are real. and shoutout to David because oh my god that line almost made me cry. thank you for this beautifully written piece, and for reminding me and many others that we aren't alone and that even if the pain doesn't end, neither does our ability to someday learn to bear its weight
“ i think it’s your fundamental lack of faith in yourself to adapt to an uncertain future.”
“ because you don’t trust yourself to go outside and face the future as it happens to you — but outside is where all the meaning is. i think maybe that’s your void. and maybe the dark impulses don’t even exist. it’s possible you’re just mostly normal, if a little self-obsessed. “
“If you keep waiting for the pain to end before you try to become whole, whatever that means, you’ll be waiting forever”
I found this at the exact right time. To go through my pain as if I am in my own bubble, my own self-sustaining ecosystem except its just a cycle of wallowing and escape. Thank you
just wow. 'mythology without autonomy', and the part on masochism and waiting for the pain to end before you try to become whole, and the arbitrarily life changing powers of a good sunset... i am absolutely speechless.
thank you, so much, for sharing this. beyond affected, grateful, appreciative.
I deleted my tik tok today as I worry about its effect on my attention span, but I worried about losing touch with many of the creators I admired on the platform. Really nice to read this and be reminded of why I subscribed here in the first place. I feel so much guilt and worry about the ways I indulge in my own pain, this was a soothing read. Saving it to reread for a dark night. Thanks
“If you keep waiting for the pain to end before you try to become whole, whatever that means, you’ll be waiting forever”
I started crying as soon as I read that. I’ve been waiting since I can remember to feel ok. After I look this way, after I have enough friends, after I’m in a relationship, after I paint this, I’ll feel proud of myself. And it never fixed anything, maybe a temporary bandaid at best. I’ve been watching the sunset a lot recently, and it helps me feel whole. I’ve taken walks and looked at the trees and felt the sun and I’ve felt whole. But what about when winter comes? How much can I really romanticize when I can barely stand being outside? Even as summer goes on, the sun shifts from comforting warmth to exhausting heat and I crave the winter. Maybe the only wholeness we can find is in our own thoughts and nature is there as a crutch. But anyway thank you for sharing this and I hope you can sleep well soon.
this was really beautiful. i wrote a piece similar to this, back in high school, as i was coming to terms with indulging in my own pain and what that meant for me and how bad it was or is or could be in love with my suffering. there were so many times i really relished in it (really resonating hard hard hard once catholicism cropped up) and felt like i couldn't have an outlet without hurting more but being told to hush it down.
I called my piece "sit down with your demon" because in my head, it was everyone, but very few resonated, and i had semi-monthly visits with the guidance counselor afterward (hehe)
i've never commented on anything like this before, but this really touched me-- I see it touched many people. I feel bad for the pain I have and I feel bad that I feel like a stereotype for the pain I have and how I treat it. but it's mine to have, it's my demon. your pain is yours, too. I'm glad you shared this conversation. having support is important, but in those quiet moments, it's really just yourself and yourself, and you have to hold hands and say love you and say see you tomorrow, and it's a grace that's important. i'm rambling and i'm in tears.
thanks for writing what you do. it sparkles
wonderfully put.
“you have no faith in your capacity for goodness or self-control” i cannot put into words what this has done for me. my goodness
Not to sound like I'm having delusions of grandeur, but this essay arrived in my inbox in the middle of one of the hardest weeks of my life, during which sunsets (and rises, thanks insomnia!) have been my main source of grounding. Just as I finished reading this piece and scrolled past the last line, Us by Regina Spektor began playing on shuffle on my liked songs playlist on Spotify. I'm not sure if it's divine intervention, astrological alignment, my CSIS agent looking out for me, or likely coincidence, but it made me feel less alone.
So many excerpts resonate, but I think the one I needed most in this moment is: "both in politics and in relation to the self, one of the most radical ideas one can internalize is it doesn’t have to be like this. it doesn’t have to be like this, it doesn’t have to be like this, it doesn’t have to be like this. likewise, the most dangerous thing you can believe is that the current condition is inevitable." Thank you.
(Also, very curious to hear your real thoughts on suicide, would read a whole book on the topic)
i feel so bad that i don't have something more profound and cathartic to say. i want to be able to give back. you deserve so much
!!
^^
"we are each other's house."
this is stunning, thank you.
oof, that monologue reached an audience.
not expressing any real thoughts on unaliving, not even in the most private, no-audience conversations.
understanding that explaining doesn’t mean excusing, and still not knowing what to do with the guilt/shame.
thanks for putting it into words that don’t live in my head. i don’t have a solution but i don’t feel alone, and that’s a start. i hope that’s not romancing it, and that you also don’t feel alone!
i normally never leave comments on anything, but i just related so much to this. you’ve put into words stuff i feel all the time that i can never explain or even fully understand myself. thank you so much for writing this, truly had me in tears.
I felt so much of this. that feeling of inescapable guilt and shame even when you've grounded your actions in the reality that we all make mistakes, how it never just fades. the waiting, always waiting to feel whole. the desire to escape the pain, believing that you can't be whole, that if that pain were just not there anymore then you would be alright. the feeling that one day you'll fuck up and truly wont be able to turn back. and even just the dynamic of your format, becoming the person you speak to, running these conversations with yourself as you recount the uncountable number of questions you can't always answer. thank you so much for sharing this. for what its worth it made me feel a lot less alone, knowing these feelings are real. and shoutout to David because oh my god that line almost made me cry. thank you for this beautifully written piece, and for reminding me and many others that we aren't alone and that even if the pain doesn't end, neither does our ability to someday learn to bear its weight
i’m blown away. so beautiful and sentimental, i had tears halfway through reading this. thank you for sharing, rayne, i hope the best for you.
The raw understanding emitted by this piece cemented her as one of my favorite modern writers. I would die to be her pen pal.
“ i think it’s your fundamental lack of faith in yourself to adapt to an uncertain future.”
“ because you don’t trust yourself to go outside and face the future as it happens to you — but outside is where all the meaning is. i think maybe that’s your void. and maybe the dark impulses don’t even exist. it’s possible you’re just mostly normal, if a little self-obsessed. “
“If you keep waiting for the pain to end before you try to become whole, whatever that means, you’ll be waiting forever”
wow
I found this at the exact right time. To go through my pain as if I am in my own bubble, my own self-sustaining ecosystem except its just a cycle of wallowing and escape. Thank you
just wow. 'mythology without autonomy', and the part on masochism and waiting for the pain to end before you try to become whole, and the arbitrarily life changing powers of a good sunset... i am absolutely speechless.
thank you, so much, for sharing this. beyond affected, grateful, appreciative.
I deleted my tik tok today as I worry about its effect on my attention span, but I worried about losing touch with many of the creators I admired on the platform. Really nice to read this and be reminded of why I subscribed here in the first place. I feel so much guilt and worry about the ways I indulge in my own pain, this was a soothing read. Saving it to reread for a dark night. Thanks
a beautiful, stylised piece - a true pleasure to read while reminiscing on my own experiences with pain, shame and being a woman