There is something comforting about suffering. Or, a particular kind of suffering. I suppose that suffering alongside others, particularly those for whom we care deeply, may entail a further suffering by way of feeling their pain - vicarious suffering should be avoided as much as vicarious redemption - but a silent suffering, alone and in a setting of low sensory stimulation, can take on the property of serenity when one fully submits.
This may sound awfully similar to self-pity. However, I think the fundamental difference between serene suffering and self-pity is that self-pity implies a favourable counter factual. When engaging in self-pity, the implicit desire is that the suffering is a necessary evil one must endure because one deserves it, and so one must take the great pain and soldier on through to the other side. Often this is only superficial, and a third party barely has to scratch the surface to reveal the desire for the suffering to end prematurely. However, when fully accepting a solitary and reflective period of intense psychological suffering, there comes an acceptance of the necessity of the process and a revelation that the only true suffering is the desire for it to end. To be constantly wishing for change is to be unsatisfied with the present, but to accept the present state is to decide to use the suffering as an opportunity rather than view it as an ordeal.
I am currently in a state of deep psychological suffering. I wake up heavy and I go to sleep heavy. I am weighed down by an enormous psychological mass pressing against my sense of self. There is a tumour of suffering obstructing the stream of conscious thought that usually flows freely and on which I, like all of us, identify with as ‘I’.
I’ve had depression. This isn’t depression. Depression comes first as sadness and then as numbness. Depression is an agony that causes panic and desperation, then forced submission and reluctant acceptance. This is a wilful acceptance of psychological suffering. Depression is being tortured. Depression is being held underwater but never drowning, constantly wishing to breath. This is discovering I’m underwater and refusing to panic.
When we are happy, we’re not just happy about the present, we’re happy because of a change in our potential futures. You’re happy in a relationship because you believe it will continue. If you know for a certainty it will end next week, this week you won’t be as happy in that relationship. You don’t enjoy it because it is now, you enjoy the idea that it will be. The first and consecutive bites of a cake are great, but that last bite is the worst. Even as you’re chewing, it doesn’t feel quite as good because you know it’ll be gone soon. Our thoughts of the future infect our present, because we are presently thinking of our future. We’re never actually present, because we’re always thinking ahead.
This suffering will likely end at some point, but I don’t know when. Whether it takes a day, a month or a year - I’m here now, so I might as well pay attention to it. Dread is an additional unnecessary suffering. All I need to do is deal with the present. This perspective will help in good times too. Next time I am blissful, I will be present in that moment of bliss rather than wondering when it will end. At its core, bliss and suffering are just states of consciousness, neither intrinsically harmful or desirable unless I decide to harm myself or identify with my desires. I will just be, and I will be in whatever state I happen to find myself. Right now I am suffering, and that is as good as any other mental state. I’m even starting to find the pleasure in the pain.
