panel 1: “It’s amazing you’ve come this far. Being so worthless.”
panel 2: “It’s not really giving up, if you’ve never really contributed anything.”
panel 3: “What’s the point?! No one will miss you.”
panel 4: “Nobody.”
Confessional time, Folks. This strip is when it hit me that I had been loosing the battle against my own self-doubt. It was also this strip that gave me the weapon that years of therapy didn’t. By forcing myself to see those nasty little voices in my head as separate from “me”, I was able to train myself to dismiss what they were saying as irrelevant. I am currently winning the battle, and still reading WS.
Rationalising is powerfull.
Knowing to be smart enough to trust your brain.
None of this is true, can be true, could be true… ’cause how utterly rediculous would that be? You k n o w better tan that!
But feelings don’t change. Years and years pass – and ‘it’ is still in there, deep inside, insisting. Persisting.
Having finally learned to suppress this innermost deep down nagging little (?) voice.
This:
Don’t you dare for a moment believe that any of it is actually real, that anyone actually c a r e s for you. You know they can’t, don’t you?
You know they shouldn’t? Why would they – would you? How dare you…
The constant rationalisation, the knowing-better-grip, the control, is not easy.
Never getting to relax, knowing that the ‘little’ voice can -could- and will still s c r e a m. And take over again.
Sometimes you just can’t. Have to let go off the grip and let it happen… again.
But there’s one thing time does teach. Even if nothing r e a l y changes (50+ and not doing all that great right now).
It comes, takes over, but… it also goes. If there’s enough strength to ride it out – as several times before?
Finding the strength to ‘ride it out’ – damn it’s not easy. It’s hard, hard, but it’s worked before…?
I can and will, I must, get that back again.
This too shall pass.
To all of you it may concern: please, please hang in there.
I’m impressed. Do you know someone who’s had suicidal experiences, because I’ve been suicidal, and these same words would run around my head.
the reversed lopsided font makes for good ‘demonspeak’ here; kudos to you, Paul!
the translation to normal writing:
panel 1: “It’s amazing you’ve come this far. Being so worthless.”
panel 2: “It’s not really giving up, if you’ve never really contributed anything.”
panel 3: “What’s the point?! No one will miss you.”
panel 4: “Nobody.”
I love doubt rolling her eyes there.
So many times I have felt like that. It is so strange to see it illustrated like this. She is so real…
Confessional time, Folks. This strip is when it hit me that I had been loosing the battle against my own self-doubt. It was also this strip that gave me the weapon that years of therapy didn’t. By forcing myself to see those nasty little voices in my head as separate from “me”, I was able to train myself to dismiss what they were saying as irrelevant. I am currently winning the battle, and still reading WS.
Great. That is not easy to do. You are an amazing person and should be proud of your achievement.
Congratulations! We takes our tools wherever we can find them.
Rationalising is powerfull.
Knowing to be smart enough to trust your brain.
None of this is true, can be true, could be true… ’cause how utterly rediculous would that be? You k n o w better tan that!
But feelings don’t change. Years and years pass – and ‘it’ is still in there, deep inside, insisting. Persisting.
Having finally learned to suppress this innermost deep down nagging little (?) voice.
This:
Don’t you dare for a moment believe that any of it is actually real, that anyone actually c a r e s for you. You know they can’t, don’t you?
You know they shouldn’t? Why would they – would you? How dare you…
The constant rationalisation, the knowing-better-grip, the control, is not easy.
Never getting to relax, knowing that the ‘little’ voice can -could- and will still s c r e a m. And take over again.
Sometimes you just can’t. Have to let go off the grip and let it happen… again.
But there’s one thing time does teach. Even if nothing r e a l y changes (50+ and not doing all that great right now).
It comes, takes over, but… it also goes. If there’s enough strength to ride it out – as several times before?
Finding the strength to ‘ride it out’ – damn it’s not easy. It’s hard, hard, but it’s worked before…?
I can and will, I must, get that back again.
This too shall pass.
To all of you it may concern: please, please hang in there.