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The Unbearable Pain Of Self

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In Exile

Bronze Member
It hurts so much to be me. I hate myself. I wish that I could just die. I wish that there was somewhere I could go to escape the pain.

I want to cut myself, to give me some physical pain which would be less than the emotional pain. I want to end the unbearable pain of being "In Exile."

Oh, that it could have been me that died, instead of my son. Why was I the one holding him and not he holding me when the last breath was taken? Why did a father bury a son and not a son, a father?

Why can't here be a place in the sky with green grass and clear streams, where you can find rest and shade beneath a tree? Where birds sing and it's OK to be happy?

Why much this be so hard? Why was I born into craziness? Where fathers beat boys for imaginary wrongs and mothers zone out on prozac and try to kill themselves?

You can't go through this without become crazy yourself.

But why was I so foolish to thing that I could have children of my own? Will they become crazy like their father?

My niece was just discharged. A non-fatal dose, but serious enough for a ride to the Emergency Room and a stay in Teen Psych Ward.

Will my children wind up there? Am I a monster who ruins each person I touch?

It hurts so much to be me. I want nothing more than to fade away
 
I want to cut myself, to give me some physical pain which would be less than the emotional pain. I want to end the unbearable pain of being "In Exile."
Sometimes that's the only thing that seems to work you know? Have you done that before?

I know its normal for me, but I was just wondering if it was something new for you?

I hope you don't start something you don't need to start.

Cutting is very serious and I understand you have been in a lot of pain because of your son. I hope you are ok. Please let us know how you are doing.
 
Have you done that before?
Yeah, before. When the pain would be too much and there wasn't anything else which would help.

I am feeling a little better today.

I've got a new part time job. I teach English in Taiwan, and many teachers here have several part time positions. I think the stress had been building up for a while.

My son died a while back, I'm sort of surprised that came out that strongly again. He was born and died in Sept, 2008. We knew there were problems, but the doctors said they wouldn't know until he was actually born how bad it would be, although the condition was quite severe and there was never hope that he would have a normal life.

We had decided that if it were really bad, to not have heroic measures taken to simply postpone death for a few hours or days.

After he was born, they came back and made sure that was what we wanted because he was dying. Rather than have him die under bright lights in filled with tubes and holes, we had them bring him back.

We had him for three hours. Gave him a bath. Held him and sang to him.

His mother begged him to live while his father bawled in his stead.

And then he died.

I have two wonderful children now. Well, normal, living children, who can try your patience like any other young ones. But great kids.

And the world moves forward while the dead stay behind, calling out from your dreams.

My daughter was lonely the other day. Sad. I'm not sure why. But she raised her arms up for her father to pick her up and she held on to my neck tight. And after a few minutes she was fine.

How does that work? I search my memories in vain for anything similar from when I was her age. You do not run out into traffic and you do not share your feelings with your family. Both carry the same level of danger. Traffic would be safer.

But maybe other families aren't like that. Maybe children can tell their parents when they are sad. Maybe there are fathers who wouldn't capitalize on that to further degrade the child. Maybe there are mothers who wouldn't come apart.

My children are growing up in a universe I never knew. Their mother loves them. Their father does, too. And he holds them, and cares.

And somehow for them, when they get sad, it's OK for them to cry and they have parents to go to who make it better.

This is the part I don't understand. It's like reading a book on the behavior of bees. Intellectually, I can understand that when children bond with their parents, then parents can help help the child get over the hurt. But emotionally, I don't get it. I don't get how you can feel better.

The funny thing is that I get the part about providing emotional support, because that was my job as a child. I needed to support my mother so she could stay with us enough to protect us, sort of, from my father.

I just had no idea that a child could go to an adult for help.

For many years, beer was my buddy and wine, my woman. But that famously ended poorly.

Sometimes I feel better. Sometimes I don't. The other day was particularly bad. It's a little better today.
 
I'm so sorry you are feeling so badly. You sound like you are a wonderful person with a great family and you know how to love them when others do not. It sounds like you maybe didn't have the same upbringing that your children may be enjoying but they are very blessed to have you taking care of them. I don't have children, just pets, but I know love and compassion is a big part of it. Making sure they are safe from harm is huge. It sounds like you have that covered.

I hope you can feel happy with your family too, and blessed to know what a wonderful job you are doing. I know it has to be difficult. Pets alone can be a strain sometime, so kids and people have to be more than that. I wish you the best!
 
Well @In Exile you don't sound like a 'monster' to me but a very wise, loving & attentive father. Totally get the fear & despair though.

I hope you can see how much you identified in your last post. I think it's very healthy.

I hope your niece will be ok.

Hugs for you if they don't offend you.
 
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