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I have reached a point where I feel that if I could just lay down and die, it wouldn't bother me if that happened. I honestly don't see the purpose of fighting anymore. Life is always more of the same. Heartache and people that don't care. Realizing on some level, I will always be dealing with childhood abuse issues that have warped my self and the way I view the world.

Sometimes, you get tired of fighting. Sometimes, you just want to be able to rest. Sometimes, you wish you were someone else. Sometimes, when the coldness creeps into your soul and there is no warmth to be found, you lose heart.

Is it cowardly to stop fighting? Or is it bravery that recognizes the battlefield is not for them?
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(((TAS)))

Maybe instead of thinking about whether or not fighting is worth it and the battlefield is for you, you could find a measure relief by considering life through a different set of metaphors? ie life as a journey, a pilgrimage, a process of discovery, a river to float on, a cycle of seasons, something. . . Talking of battlefields expresses one aspect of reality, but focusing on that exclusively and literally (especially when you are feeling depressed) can be exhausting. I just wondered if shaking up your perspective could help a bit, at least for the moment.

Surely there is at least one thing or person that you find inspiring enough (or at least interesting enough) to live for? Maybe try focusing on that? It won't solve everything, but sometimes just a glimmer of hope is enough to help you through the darkest times.

Take care and stay safe. Will be thinking of you.
TAS - I think I have said so much of what you wrote to my T. The desire to be done, to not fight. When I do, he reminds me to rest, not in the way that gives up on life, but in the way of admitting and accepting that the circumstances, the pain from my past, etc. are just too big for me to face on my own. My T gets very spiritual, about God carrying him through and such, and that can be very hard for me to hear when the pain is overwhelming. I often tell him, "Yeah, well, I suck at that." But, knowing he is someone who has also been carried through deep pain helps me to wait for rescue. Sometimes that rescue is just being able to understand it IS too much, and in the past we were alone in circumstances no child should have to face, and taught we should have to face it without help. But, now we have others along side us who can validate rather than deny that it is too much, who can continue to be with us through our most painful moments, who will comfort and care through the pain rather than abandon us. Maybe if we find a way to let them, we will also find a way to learn that is what we ALWAYS deserved. I'm still trying to figure out how to rest and be carried. I don't want to fight for life anymore either...I just want to be able to actively live it.

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