Be Cruel to Be Kind

People say that you’ve “got to be cruel to be kind”. Perhaps, in some ways, it does work, by denying people a bit of extra help when it’s obvious that they can do the task on their own, no matter how much they’re struggling. Basically “tough love”, if you will. But for people who use this saying, I get the feeling that they don’t think in those moments of saying it about what cruelty really is…

I can be cruel. I mean, I can be truly cruel. The black thoughts in my mind, that always expect the worst. I’ve said before that I hope that my past experiences haven’t blackened my heart too much, said it quite recently, in fact, here. But I notice more and more how the dark thoughts are still there, how I end up thinking the worst of even the nicest of people because experience says that everyone will let me down in the end, that they will just run away and I’ll be alone again, always.

In times of struggles, no matter how minor, these thoughts come to the fore more strongly. I don’t see my own weaknesses until it’s too late and I’ve made a complete tit of myself once more. Then I’ve got to somehow dig myself out of the hole, repent the things I’ve said in haste and, in trying, it just gets deeper and deeper and deeper… Then they do run away, because I’ve driven them away through my actions. The cruelty inside of me comes out further, blaming them for being like everyone else that’s always let me down, even though I know it’s my fault. But as soon as I sit back and see how much of a failure I truly am, that I let my insecurities get in the way again, I break once more. I prepare to give up trying again, but the cycle always inevitably comes around again, whether I want it to or not.

Of course, it isn’t truly my fault; it’s the fault of all those that have hurt me in the past, with genuine ill intent. They’ve turned me into a bitter, insecure, untrusting mess. The more the years have gone on, the more that I’ve been let down and taken advantage of, the worse I have gotten. I keep trying to break the cycle, but I fear it might be too late. Despite all the kindness and love in my heart, that cruel side, that bitter side, is a fixed part that refuses to leave. Maybe someone will come along one day and prove me wrong, heal the hurts and remove the thorns that cause me to lash out in anger. Yet I fear it is too late for me. I don’t like being alone, but alone is probably the best place to be.

Long, Lonely Thoughts

Sometimes, I just like to sit and think, to watch the world go by. It can be anywhere: at home, on a bus, on a bench just watching the many people walk by, rushing to and fro. I sit and think a lot, try to find that place where I can gather my thoughts and take stock of what’s going on in my life.

The reason for this is, sometimes my life seems like a rush. My mind, often working in overdrive, getting even worse if I’m nervous or excited. Well, I’ve spent several weeks in various mixed states of both, with the depressiveness lurking in the background, constantly trying to creep up on me and snatch me away back into the darkness. With all the drama and trauma of the past few months, at points I didn’t think I’d survive it, and with my life in a constant state of turmoil, it is, perhaps, quite surprising that I’ve made it this far at all.

So, a lot of my time, currently, is spent alone, just thinking:
Where am I going? What am I to do next? Am I doing the right thing? Will everything work out in the end?

This life seems so filled with unanswerable questions. Sometimes I really don’t have any faith at all that the next stage of my life will go any better, so I continue to ask them, to the empty air around me, sometimes shouting, screaming them out, ‘Don’t I deserve to live?!’ But nothing ever answers. The wind, the traffic, the subtle shuffling of life whispers in the silence. Yet, apart from that, there is just silence.

So, I look to the answers within myself, yet they’re always further questions:
Do I have the strength to try again? Do I even want to try? If I do try, could this be my last chance? But, considering it all, what other choice to I have but to try to make the best of what I have here, right now?

I sit and let the silence fill me, almost watching the world turn, go by, conserving my strength. If this is going to be my last fight, my last battle, then I will need all the energy available to me. I’m on my own now. I have a handful of great friends out there, but they can’t hold my hand where I’m going. So, I truly am on my own.

Somehow I need to find that strength to pull myself through, to bring myself to the next stage of the journey. I need hope, belief, however vague, that it will all be worthwhile in the end. For I know now that if I fail again, if I fail this time, then it will be the last.

Returning to the World Beyond

It’s a bit bizarre after a few days, more or less shut away, trying to return to some sort of normality. Everything does feel different right now. Somewhat clearer, somewhat less agitating, but just as disappointing.

Leaving the abbey felt like leaving a safe place. It was no longer somewhere intimidating, but somewhere I could almost call “home”. The huge group of buildings looked smaller somehow in their familiarity, the strange corridors less dark and scary than on the first night.

That peculiar smell of old things and incense lingers in my clothing, my hair. There are fragments of songs, of the hymns, of conversations, still floating around in my head. Yet I’m at home now, with the floors dirtier than when I left and there still being a huge pile of washing as only one load has been done during my absence. The washing up done at the last minute before I return, the house in its clutteredness not as welcoming as it should be.

It’s odd, in a way, considering how unfriendly the house should feel, especially considering all the fights that have been had here of late, that I should still feel so peaceful and at ease with myself inside. I know as the days go on, that the tears will come again, as I move towards facing up to the decisions that need to be made. It’s not going to be easy, especially with all that needs to be packed, arranged and sorted, but I think I’m finally ready to move on and start to live again.

Why I Stopped Running

I actually wrote the text below a few months ago for guest blog than unfortunately never happened. Well, instead of wasting it, I decided that it was about time I got it up on my own blog and published. Enjoy! :)


Four years ago, after two years of living in Belgium, I nearly decided to move back to the UK. I had lost yet another job, things had gone bad for me once more as I hadn’t coped with the stress at work. With thoughts of, ‘why me?!’ I decided that it must be the country, that if I went back then everything would magically turn out fine.

At some point I stopped myself and realised something: moving back would be just running away again. I had fled England, my friends, a relationship when everything went bad. I suddenly realised that running back wouldn’t work, I had nowhere to go and everyone had already moved on. The only way to move forward was to work with what I did have, finding what was achievable, rather than being angry at what I didn’t.

Luckily I found the mental-health support in Belgium that I had been lacking whilst in the UK. With this, I decided it was time to push forward to achieve things for myself for once, rather than just sitting still feeling sorry for myself all the time. I enrolled myself in for Dutch lessons, knowing that if I was to ever get anywhere then speaking the language better would be a very useful tool. I also enrolled myself in for music lessons, accordion lessons, something that I had wanted to do for years. I slowly started to grow and become more confident, becoming a better and stronger person for fighting instead of fleeing.

Now, four years on, I’ve achieved so much that I never thought possible. And this is not just musically or linguistically. Because of the music lessons, I’m now a more confident person overall, having had to perform solo at various points. Also, because of my new-found linguistic skills, I socialise with more with people, speak to people on the train or at the bus stop, things I never used to do. Even before I moved to Belgium, I used to shut myself away a lot, turn away and avoid speaking to people. It’s like another person has surfaced simply because I dared to try. I am now also looking for work once more and, through making my own enquiries and taking the steps myself, am involved in a programme that can help me find a new direction along with training and job placements so I can “try out” any job before I decide to commit to it.

That doesn’t mean to say that everything has been plain sailing. I still have had and do have dark moments from time to time. The main difference has come with how I handle them. The darkness can be painful and enveloping when it returns, making me think that everyone hates me, that I’m just as useless at everything as I’ve always been. ‘Why do you even bother?’ that little voice says to me. At those times, one step at a time, I have to remind myself that I am capable, that the world isn’t out to get me. Even if I just achieve one thing during those darkest of days, no matter how small, it is still one thing more than those voices would have me believe was possible. Slowly, surely, bit by bit, those dark days are becoming less and I’m becoming more of an achiever than someone who just let life pass them by.

Be that person who takes the time to make a change in your life, do something for yourself. Whether it be indulging in a hobby or just doing something else that you enjoy, all these are things we can do to work towards our own happiness.