‘Your experience? A billionth of my own’

Human apathy can come from comparing experiences of others as lesser than our own… especially if they are of the same nature. Instead of joining hearts, stretching fingers to cocoon a shaking hand, the process becomes analytical. Judgemental. Dismissive.

In uneven breaths, they fumble for the words. They try to explain: “I can’t… this… is too much.”

This‘ happens to be an all-too-familiar skeleton in your closet.

Caging a barricade around your heart, incredulity rips through the bottom corner of your lip and glints like the edge of a blade.

“I endured this on my own. Not a soul to turn to. Trapped in walls with only the roaring sound of my own screams. Even more: my voice shrieked longer than the entirety of your existence… only then did I open the door for darkness. I am still a beating heart but there are many, many days I wish I weren’t.

“And you dare to flinch? What you have experienced is a paper-cut to my gashing wounds – a billionth of my own.”

But you were blind. While consumed in the glass chamber, many clawed through layers of glass to save you, but you snapped their tired fingers with gnarled teeth. Every lashing bite meant your heart grew number. All their efforts were in vain; the glass became thicker than before. Eventually, the blackened fingers slid away and you noticed only the abandonment, not everything that came before.

You forever harbour resentment for this submerged loneliness; the pain of battling your monsters alone. You named this animalistic shred of compassion ‘strength.’ Reducing oneself to the numbers, facts and data of the analytical brain to compare, compare, compare. Removing any traces of the warm touch of vulnerability to soften the stone your heart has become.

Unlike you, they outstretch their own trembling fingers. You name it weakness.

But you are wrong. They epitomise strength; you, fear. Fear of the unfamiliarity, the guilt of not suffering, the radical conception that you are human before being a survivor. So you cling to the only mask you have known, criticising those who realise they are worthy of the compassion you could never accept.

*

OTHER DARK POSTS:

 

52 Comments Add yours

  1. Jenny Castro says:

    I think learning to work with pain, accept it and understand it requires a mentality on a completely different level. Not allowing it to make you bitter or resentful but using it as a tool itself. After passing through a funk that clarity you get. You finally understand why what happened happened or at least have a better understanding. Everyone works differently and we cannot judge another person for how they deal with their issues. As much as we wish they wouldn’t give their pain as much credit. Learning that I cannot make someone let go of their pain was my lesson this year.

    1. RamisaR says:

      You have expressed such an important reflection of pain. I hadn’t considered the ‘bitter v tool for compassion’ comparison before your comment. As for learning you cannot make someone let go of their feelings… well, that must have been a difficult lesson indeed. The fact you have been self-aware to recognise this is a sign of growth 🙂

  2. I found you through a blogger friend and am happy to be here. I want to come back tomorrow to read some more.

    1. RamisaR says:

      Absolutely love this take on the post. We’ve covered different perspectives, but yours is personal, and uncovers the true nature of depression in its darkest state, and the interactions within our minds and others around us. Not limited to that perspective, of course 🙂
      Meanwhile, mine concerned the form of apathy & strange sort of entitlement people feel when they ‘have it worse’ than someone else, struggling in the same boat. Also, seeing asking for help as a form of weakness is the reason we have so many problems in the world, imo.

      1. Tintin Tran says:

        I was actually discussing that very topic with other people. Depressed people tend to talk to others, and the listeners can’t help but feel used as a tool just to make the depressed feel better. I am sorely guilty of being the tool user, but it’s not for malicious intent. It’s just because I clutch onto life just barely so that everyone else can see me, but then I sink below the reeds of life so that when they grab me, they get pulled down and see the world as I see it. No illusion, no deception. Just blatant honesty through human psychology.

  3. Tintin Tran says:

    Beautifully written, as always, Ramisa. Thank you so much for your existence. Your blog is always so pleasing to read, what with your vocabulary, your sense of meter, and your atmosphere in every piece. ❤

    1. RamisaR says:

      Thank you so much! ❤ ❤ ❤ Very touched by your kind words.
      I want to enhance my vocabulary further and engage in some GRE-reading. 😀

  4. Tintin Tran says:

    Reblogged this on Teen Ramblings and commented:
    This is the newest post from the lovely Ramisa the Authoress (a dear friend of mine) and it describes how one can feel about their pain when others try to help relieve it. Quite well written, far beyond my more absolute tone, and I hope, dear readers, you’ll enjoy this. DFTBA!

    1. RamisaR says:

      Awwww ❤
      I'm going to reprimand you again: don't compare yourself, and don't belittle yourself.
      But thank you very much, Tin ❤

      1. Tintin Tran says:

        I didn’t belittle myself, but I just contrasted our writing styles, silly. :p

  5. Thank you so much for linking my blog! I really appreciate it.

    1. RamisaR says:

      You are very welcome. Your poems are incredible.

  6. Wow. Incredible post! 🙂

    And thanks for linking to my poem. ♥

    1. RamisaR says:

      Thank you muchly ❤

  7. First off, what a striking post! I read yours this morning and it captured my attention right away. Very well-written, brutally honest with a graphic analogy of pain and empathy. I very much enjoyed reading this. Thank you, also, for linking to my blog post! Have a blessed day!

  8. Linda says:

    Powerful word, Ramisa. Thank you for linking!

    1. RamisaR says:

      Thank you, Linda ❤

  9. Dez x says:

    Beautiful post! Thank you for the link!

    1. RamisaR says:

      Hi Dez, I tried to access your blog (http://darklydesire.com/), but it came up with an error message. Could you inform me how I could access it? 🙂

      1. Dez x says:

        It should be darklydezire.com with a “z” 🙂

      2. RamisaR says:

        Thank you! Visiting your blog as we speak 🙂

  10. This is a very beautiful piece of writing and you use and have such tantalising vocabulary, it just strings it all together. The subject of this piece is also very intriguing, I’m glad it was brought to my attention! ^^~
    And thank you for linking to my blog! ^^~

    1. RamisaR says:

      Your writing is absolutely beautiful. I was reading some of your posts, and you write with such flair and precision. Highly admired & followed ❤

      1. Wow! Thank you very much, I am very honoured, especially receiving such praise from a fellow writer who I find to be absolutely amazing. ❤ I am grateful.

  11. Jocelyn says:

    Thank you for the reblog!

  12. Great post! Thanks for linking to my blog

  13. artifiswords says:

    This does not describe what I wrote…the essence being that the person who hurt me will never believe that they did, let alone help undo the damage. I am not encased in glass.

    1. RamisaR says:

      Hmm, I’m a little confused. Are you referring to the connection between this post and your own?
      I included your post as an example of another perspective of the challenge, not as a similarity to my own 🙂

  14. Thank you for linking! Amazing post! :O

    1. RamisaR says:

      Thank you very much ❤
      I wanted to retrieve your blog (http://hashtagtrustyourinstincts.com/), but I am receiving an error message. Could you inform me how I could access it? 🙂

  15. Gloria says:

    Thank you for linking to my blog! Lovely post.

  16. Ramisa,
    You write beautifully. The emotion and intensity of this piece moved me. Thank you for sharing it and the pingback to my blog is much appreciated.@sheilamgood at Cow Pasture Chronicles

    1. RamisaR says:

      Sheila,
      Thank you for your kind words. I feel honoured that my piece has impacted you.

      1. It most definitely did. I look forward to reading more.

  17. Margarita says:

    Thank you! Yes, while similar experiences may open a door for us to begin connecting, relating, our individual experiences are still…individual. ;)xoM

    1. RamisaR says:

      An absolutely keen observation. Our individual experiences are very much still… individual 😉

  18. calensariel says:

    Interesting piece. Nice post.

    1. calensariel says:

      Your header makes me want to get out my crayons! 😀

      1. RamisaR says:

        Hahahaha! Thank you very much ❤ I'm sure your crayon drawings are glorious, so I shall take credit for your artistic awakening 😉

  19. Great post. Thanks for linking.

    1. RamisaR says:

      Thank you for reading 🙂

  20. DAVE says:

    Reblogged this on Entertainment Enthusiast and commented:
    Here’s a beautiful piece by Ramisa

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