Suffering In The Cycle Of Pain and Pleasure
Lately I’ve felt a relapse of melancholy. It was a taste of the pains I went through years ago. The feeling of being unloved, unwanted, helpless, hopeless and loneliness. The silence of your world is the most terrible and wondrous feeling. Your tongue is cut by your oppressors. You feel blades slicing deep within your heart. You cannot call out for help. No one knows. No one cares. Yet, you yourself can listen to the pain of your crying heart.
Among people, you wear a mask of happiness. You force yourself to forget the melancholy, and for awhile you succeed. But once you’re alone, the shadows creep in to smother your breath.
Of all things, I learnt not to deny pain. It is part and parcel of life. Being in denial of pain will consume every ounce of positivity and kindness you have left. It makes you cold hearted and vengeful. The denial of melancholy will not prevent the pain from seeping in; it will prolong the suffering.
I’ve accepted the recent sorrow, and it has faded. Yet, it had a purpose. I was reminded of the noble ideal I came across when battling depression last time.
Buddhism calls this ideal compassion.