anonymousmillenial wrote on 13 Nov 2022 14:57:
Hi peeps,
It's been a while. Honestly, coming back here to write a post feels kinda weird. Like picking up the phone to call someone you know you should've called a long time ago. A sense of guilt coupled with relief. This post isn't part of a series of blog posts nor the beginning of a new adventure. I'm sorta writing it for myself, being at my computer and feeling the need to express a few thoughts. [You, the reader, have been forewarned and I give you the permission henceforth to skip this post.]
I still fondly and bitterly recall the early days of my struggle. A sense of mission to overcome this, no matter what. Perhaps even a sense of heroism. And on the other end, the pain of having these nisyonos to deal with in the first place. The question of "how did I get entangled in this?" hanging over me as I try to keep my head up from under the water. There were many wins and unfortunately many losses as well.
But as time went by, the initial sensitivity to what once seemed so sacred, has all but been dulled, numbed and weakened. Learning to live with your losses comes with great benefits, though. I mean, you can get used to anything, can't you? Even this.
And yet, there's this pervasive nagging feeling of unrest; this relentless feeling within myself that won't let go. "Don't give up!" it will say. Or perhaps "there'll come a day when this will all be something of the past". A sense of hope. Something to cling to. I am grateful for this.
Nonetheless, the weariness of the fighting is something I must carry with me every day. As much as I'd wished that this wouldn't be at the forefront of my mind, it unfortunately is.
I've personally struggled for many months on a daily basis with it's ups and downs. And I wish I could say that I am interested in being helped, and sometimes I am. But sometimes, I just want to be left to my own devices. Just to have the space to figure this out on my own. Or just to be allowed to drown, not needing to fight. And I have tried that. It seems like I am getting closer to the end. But like the horizon of the sea, I still haven't reached the end. And I'm still trying to keep my head up in those waters.
It occurs to me sometimes that perhaps like that same horizon, there is no end. Perhaps swimming in these stormy waters and trying to fight for our lives is the purpose. It's a scary thought. One I have difficulty accepting. Nonetheless that's the way it feels at times.
Being alone in life doesn't help either. Every day takes courage, with an overarching question of "what's the purpose?". Life can seem rather dull sometimes. I know this vision seems rather bleak, but nonetheless it's important to put these feelings out. Nothing in life is binary. There are always going to be great moments in life and ,sometimes, there are going to be some rough moments [and sometimes more than 'some'].
What am I clinging to? I'm clinging to the hope of better days. Of days with more Torah learning. Of days being married. Of days being fulfilled and happy with myself. Of days where I'll be entirely free of this poison that permeates my entire essence.
Now don't go feeling all sorry for me. Please don't. That's not the purpose of this. I don't like being pitied.
Knowing that I'm not alone in this battle does help. In fact it does help a whole lot. It is rather a comforting thought. On the other hand, I've yet to find a balance, because to be honest, this sometimes justifies my continued falling. [It is a side note, I shall admit. Nonetheless I think it has to be mentioned.]
There's also a great sense of fear that I've recognized within myself. One of those fears, is the fear of letting go. The fear of not being able to live without this. This is especially in times of great stress and pain when escape seems like the only venue and this form of escape the only one. Recognition is always the first step to recovery, and I'm happy I'm aware of this. Nonetheless, as Reb Yisroel Salant used to say, the journey to "ve'hashevoiso el levovecho" is as great as the journey to "veyodaata". Two seperate Avodahs.
Another thing I would like to say is that I've cried many tears to Hashem. I know deep down that "Sha'arei demaos lo ninalu", and I know that Hashem listens to me, but I feel like those tears somehow don't penetrate the gates. I know that when someone gives in to areas of Kedusha, it can block the spiritual pathways. But really, if this is the nisayon of the generation, can't Hashem make an exception for us? How much longer must we hold on? How much longer can Hashem refuse our prayers?
What more can I say? Well, probably a lot more, I'll leave it to this, though.
I'm hesitant to post this as this post probably sounds melodramatic and I thank you the reader if you've arrived to the end.
If it sounds all negative to you, please don't go taking all I said 100% literally as my feelings tend to go up and down.
I just felt like I needed to write a few words to get some feelings out and I also decided to share them because maybe someone else can relate.
Thank you for coming back.
I missed you dearly.
You have managed to accurately describe in words the exact issues and struggles I’m currently experiencing as well.
The constant question of “what is the purpose?”
You mention that you are “clinging” onto a better future. If you may elaborate on the meaning of that, I’d greatly appreciate it.
Viewing oneself as having abandoned past hopes, goals, aspirations, and expectations, is certainly something I struggle with as well.
The depiction of yourself swimming in the ocean trying to keep your head up and swimming to a seemingly nonexistent location shakes me to the core.
I too am in those same waters and very very often I question why swim if I will seemingly never reach dry land.
As far as the whole “tears not penetrating the gates” thing and that if you’re nichshal in kedusha it can “block the spiritual pathways.”
Maybe there’s an element of truth to that, but dude, it’s not true the way you’re taking it.
It’s just not true.
There’s no such a thing as a Jew who is left out in the cold by GD. Doesn’t matter what they were nichshal in.
Could be it’s hard, but pathways towards connecting to Hashem remain open so long as one’s heart still beats.
I’d say do yourself a favor, I know certain seforim will say things which make it sound like you can’t have a relationship with Hashem without kedusha.
Don’t have that be your driving force because it’s unhealthy and untrue the way it seems you’re understanding it.
Feeling alone, so so alone.
Yes my dearest friend, I am with you in this deep pain and confusion. Please reach out to me if you’d like to speak offline. I’m here for you and wish that soon we may both reach the dry land, or better yet, that Hashem may lead us ״בתוך הים
ביבשה״
YeshivaGuy