The blackness and deepness of that hole can feel all consuming, I know. Nothing feels right. Nothing feels like it will ever feel good again. No matter how many are around you, the isolation is solid steel. Immovable and unbreakable. They say they love you and they need you, and they may even think that they do. But they're WRONG. "Who in their right mind would spend their love on someone like me? THEY'RE the crazy ones..." you mind convinces. The urge to cry has long since passed; it simply takes too much energy. You don't even remember what laughing is like.
There's nothing but that mass of numbing pulsating pain. It's never going to be all right, no matter what they say. Better not to feel. At all. Better to just slip away.
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Even though it doesn't feel like it today, there is hope. I promise you there's hope. One more day. One more hour/minute/second. Maybe we all ARE crazy like you think. But you are wanted. And needed. And LOVED beyond measure. Please stick around. Humor the crazy folks, willya?
St. Jude and Our Lady of Sorrows, Pray for us.
Daily Mass Readings
Ecclesiastes 1:2-11
Psalm 90:3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 14, 17
Luke 9:7-9
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