There is no doubt on the fact that I am in pain. I should rejoice there is at least this certainty in my life right now. Of course, I do not rejoice about pain, even if it’s healthy, even if it meant I am healing, like a itchy crust.

Because I don’t feel like it’s taking me anywhere. I might use it to lift myself up and grow further, but as it is, it feels useless and static.

This post tells a very important truth about pain: just like karma imbalances, pain is there to let you know something is wrong. I completely agree with that and this definition fits perfectly for sorrow as well. Only, in my case, it’s not that easy to understand the source of the pain. Of course, there is the pain connected to the separation, but there is also the pain related to the poor status of my mind – or soul, or spirit. Understanding which has to be fixed in order to get rid of the pain is a challenge.

I was seriously wondering yesterday if I’d have gone all the way with the separation, had I know what it entailed in terms of suffering and uncertainty. The point, 6 months ago, was that I felt great. For the first time in my life I felt optimistic, full of hope, strong and confident. All of that is past now, none of it fuels me anymore, or rather all of it turned to its opposite, dragging me down in an even worse state than before I was illuminated.

I am back to the state I was in three years ago, when I started my therapy.

I keep wondering whether that sprout of optimism wasn’t completely crazy instead, totally otherworldly. I don’t see second chances, I don’t see a bright future, that enables you to fight the difficulties ahead for the sake of its arrival, I don’t see myself better off without my husband. Of course the situation got so unbearable at home, there is really no other way now than catching our breath on our own for a while.

What if I keep misjudging which part of me I have to mend in order to be free of the pain? All of this introspection I think I need comes from the necessity to clear at least partly all the confusion in my head and heart. I always fear I won’t be able to understand what I really want, because of all the noise my mental issues create around my true feelings. How do I understand how much I care for someone, if the fear of being alone fills up all the rest? How will I know when to fight for someone, if my pessimism is always telling me to let go? How do I make life changing decisions if I don’t believe in myself enough to be sure to overcome any difficulty?

I am also barely able to withstand all the pressure around. I can’t concentrate on work, I can’t bear for more than 5 split seconds all the things I regularly hate of my job, I can’t stand the fact that I can’t find another one, that I need the money more than ever, that there is no way I can get a leave of absence when all I’d rather do would actually be checking myself in at the nearest asylum and stay there free from external influences until…

And “there falls the donkey”, as the Italians would say, there’s the rub. I’m starting to believe that there will never be a time when I’ll be healed. I will have to live with this wounded mind for the rest of my days like a cancer patient: at times I will need treatment, at times the tumor will still be there but it won’t bother me much, and with time who knows, it may recede spontaneously… or metastasize.

Maybe it’s ok, maybe it’s just the way I am and I will have to learn to live with this, but I can’t let it spoil all of my decisions, I can’t end up a wreck like this every time I go through hard times. Hard times are hard on their own, I don’t want to add to it.

The separation is what brought on the crisis, so it’s only natural to think that if I get back with him, part of the pain will go away. But the problems would stay. I could ditch Hector and Kolya, leave Coach behind once and for all and close my online dating profiles. I still couldn’t refrain from eyeing the cute passers-by. I still couldn’t start liking him the way I used to, because I just don’t like him that way anymore. He is an anchor, he is a life raft, he is a handhold, but he is not my lover anymore and I can’t force myself into believing anything different. I guess, he is the closest thing to a functional family I have. I love him in a way, I trust him, I feel somewhat safer around him. But I can’t see him as my partner anymore. I only very much wish I could.