A relationship, like any thing in our lives, can have a positive affect in our lives that has the capability to foster
further positive change (given, there is sufficient quality in how your partner approaches the link between you and them).
I don't believe that "no one can be saved, and if you're suicidal it's over".
no one, can be saved, if you're suicidal it's over, i think
Sometimes, people in recovery can find motivation in other recovery stories when they are struggling to keep momentum. Below is a list of stories of recovery from different members in various situations. Owing to their recovery, many of them have now moved on from the forum. Depression...
sanctioned-suicide.net
Let us invert your question, overmorrow; what if one were to say, "no one can be doomed, if you're not suicidal you've got it made". The bounds of happiness and sorrow are loose parties and bands, with people often passing between these two parties—and even this very analogy is an oversimplification, there are endless kinds of pains but also endless kinds of joys, countless of which we grab a handful of each instant we trek through.
I think it is the common response of a human in any condition, for us to assume the eternity of our current state—the person in joy may silently convict they will enjoy that act forever, the person in pain may silently convict that they will suffer that pathos forever.
I don't think it's as simple as that—I think it is a complex phenomenon that cannot be swiftly summed up in a single statement.
I don't believe a single moment of conscious experience necessarily damns all of our countless other moments and instants that follow this experience or emotion; that is, I don't believe one single moment of suicidality consigns away our entire life to being "barred from salvation".
I will now direct my attention to our fair thread as whole, and note this interesting thing.
How could we be saved if we had not fallen in the first place? How could we be reborn in flames if we had not first been in ashes?
You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame; how could you rise anew if you have not first become ashes!
I think that our life is a continuous messy expedition of both damnations and salvations all intermitting our path, at times even crossing over and blending into some kind of clusterfuck, that still has its unspeakable harmony that slowly comes out into the traces of patterns. A relationship is the patterns of two lives coming into contact with one another—the closer they come together the more signals are sent and immanated into the bodies (think bodies of water) of one another, the influences confluencing and coalescing.
Just as many things can render us into the feeling of damnation, similarly endless things can draw out within us the sense of salvation.
Why should we wait for someone else to come to us when the world with all its fascinations open wide carries for us countless methods of salvation and fulfillment? Look to the arts, you see the traces of countless souls sketching the patterns within us that we thought we had a claim of strangerhood too—look to the finer corners of the internet, you see humanity open wide, gently speaking in curiosities of the things that dragged their entire lives into realizations of what was clamouring within them.
To grasp harmony within our very own lives, we need not have a saviour; we need no saviour, we have enough control over our own existence, the human mind is a fucky and transcendent thing, we are only in recent times learning of its capacities for reconstruction, and of how it is not only capable but constantly changing in such a manner—constantly reconditioning, constantly growing and notating further the patterns of our very being.
I think having a good life is a combination of various things; it's less of any one thing striking everything from all a zero into one big "salvation", but more of a complex confluence of aspects, somehow creating a… no word for the thing I'm trying to describe. Imagine a space—but it's not merely the area of a stage, not merely any singular volume of air within a stretch of a beautiful public place—no, it's a place that is beyond places, it is a pattern that is beyond mere surfaces—it is a continuous clusterfuck, a constant song, kind of—but it is not one track but a complex intersection of countless tracks, a bunch of lines all scribbling forth and tripping into one another, as they pass, as they grow; much of them clusterfucky, but many of them perfusing in queer resonance, creating something full intense of fuck and song and euphoria cacophony hell anxiety heaven if there is a salvation it does not look like one but it sure as hell feels like one. Salvation is the moment of euphoria we do not expect, it is the divine stretch of a song—it is the kind impression we feel, the unfettered fascination we feel in a face to face with someone who soothes our soul itself. Salvation is the fit of curiosity we are struck with when we find something that rediscovers a part of us we had amnesced to—salvation is in the countless things, the everyday things, the things we might glance over, the things which catch our eye; it is in both those things we do not currently know of and those obsessions which ignite the flames of both our hells and our heavens; the fires of our infernoes and the blazes of our torches. If there is an energy owing to salvation, it is also the energy owing to damnation as well.
It is REVERENCE. It is an intense energy that birthes the essence of these two both—rather it is the same essence, the same child and fetus itself—but having its skin manifested by different hormones. Just as a baby, sexless, in both soul and body (I don't believe in an immaterial soul, I believe these are woven in the same fabric and breathness)—develops into sex through hormones at birth and may grow forth and even change into another sex through further application of hormones—that same common essence of humanity and sex—the damnation and salvation may transition between each other in a manner similar.
But the body of damnation and salvation is far larger than our own human body. It has pronumerous elements—endless kinds of elements coursing through its veins, breathing upon its skin, drinking into its lips, ringing into its ears, singing and whispering chuckling out of its mouth.
And I do not deny the curiosity of the world too rests within the minds and voices of people. Perhaps a good friend or even lover may be like a messenger, informing you of critical truths about the world and even yourself, in a way that opens your eyes further. But a bad friend or even bad lover may be a prophet similarly, shocking you in false truths designed for their exploitation and your own submission. I have not had much experience with bad friendship and even less bad romance, though. I think this notion of salvation is an incomplete view of life; by this view we are constantly being damned and saved all the time, by countless prophets and gods all speaking unto us at once. Just as a person feeling damnation may misrecognize what may be damning them, one feeling salvation may also misrecognize what has saved them. There are many factors, for sure. I think romance is just one element among these—there are countless other paths to a more harmonious existence.
~
If you may be interested in knowing what these other elements that influence the course of meaning and satisfaction in our lives may be, I highly encourage you to explore the work of Dr. Alok Kanojia. I assure you veritably he is not any run-of-the-mill psychiatrist (his own life path included profound loneliness, even a considerable length of literal monkhood in India at one point, as well), and is no stranger to the profound pressure that loneliness can have on one's desire for significance in life.
Loneliness and how it relates to construction of meaning of life:
(Goes into detail of how the common narrative utilizes relationships for this end, but how the ways a person uses relationships to construct meaning in one's life can be travelled through non-relationship means as well.)
This one has a click-baity title—I
do believe that self-love is
possible, but that its purpose and means can be confusing to understand.
Here, Dr. K. analyzes the subject of self-love and what can ACTUALLY be done about it; deconstructing common paradigms that may be excluding to people who actually struggle with self-love.
He has more content on these subjects as well; I think he is a good source for exploring these kinds of avenues, because of his genuine experience and genuine way of approaching the subjects and topics. I would say he is more interested in genuine results than just gunning for satisfying his viewer; and I would posit this genuinely.
It is possible to love and be loved by another, even without loving yourself. Loving yourself is more of a skill than an inherent trait, and there are many ways to learn it. It's very possible that one may find it easier to develop love for oneself when they are surrounded by people whom they can explore their own self with, people who act as both refuges
and expeditions. But then again, the curiosities of the world are their own refuges and expedition themselves—we have so much at our hands, now, and perhaps this possibility itself is enough salvation. Perhaps what we need is not a saviour, but a direction to begin journeying towards. Perhaps we need a path to trek down upon, to explore, more than we need any "one thing" to find, itself. The energy of the path, the sensation coursing through our veins and minds and selves as so much within us is pulled into a course: I think this dynamic tension of possible harmony, that this itself is a kind of relationship.
We have relationships with countless facets of reality; not just people—with art, with beauty, with curiosity, creation, experience, taste, euphoria, surprise, fascination, wanting, pain, catharsis, insight, stillness, music, noise; and most profoundly, our very
own inner thoughts. I personally would advocate creating
something (anything) and trying to gain skill in it, so we can create an image of our own experience that we can look back into and find curiosity in—but really,
any craft or hobby or practice that you take up, that itself is a kind of relationship too. When George Harrison sings "still my guitar, gently weeps", I think there's truly something
real in that. It's not just you—it's the physical actions and
reactions of your body, and your mind, and the physicality of the instrument—all communicating, all communicating with one another. I have a relationship with these
words right now! I'm writing out letters and typing them and the words stare back at me, as if they now have a life of their own. Even
text, I can have a relationship with these. Go on and explore all the kinds of relationships you have! People are one facet of this fascination—there are many more, as well. When you feel you tire to talk with another person, there are many other agents of reality, that we may interact with· as well. The faces and inner viscera of a book, the voices of instruments, the sensual sensations of visuals—it seems our friendship need not end where the gaps between us and other people begin. If there is salvation
within people, it spills out of them and into every soaky perfusement of this world's richened elaboration, as well. I encourage you to seek this curiosity—and realize that you too are a creator of this. Yes, you!
How could we be saved if we had not fallen in the first place?
Today you still suffer from the many, you individual; today your courage and hopes are undiminished.
But one day the solitude will weary you; one day your pride will yield, and your courage quail. You will one day cry: "I am alone!"
One day you will no longer see your heights, and see too closely your depths; even your sublimity will frighten you like a phantom. You will one day cry: "All is false!"
There are feelings which seek to kill the solitary one; if they do not succeed, then they themselves must die! But are you capable of this—to be a murderer?
Have you ever known, my sibling, the word "contempt"? And the anguish of your justice in being just to those that despise you?
You force many to think differently about you; that, they charge bitterly to your account. You came near to them and yet went past: for that they never forgive you.
You go beyond them: but the higher you rise, the smaller do you appear to the eye of envy. But the flying one is hated most of all.
"How could you be just to me!"—you must say—"I choose your injustice as my proper lot."
They cast injustice and filth at the solitary one: but, my sibling, if you would be a star, you must shine for them none the less on that account!
And be on your guard against the good and the just! They would rather crucify those who create their own virtue—they hate the solitary ones.
Be on your guard, also, against holy simplicity! All that is not simple is unholy to it; it likes to play with fire and burn—at the stake.
And be on your guard, also, against the assaults of your love! Too readily does the recluse offer xeir hand to any one xe meets.
To many you may not give a hand, but only a paw; and I want your paw to have claws.
But the worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself; you ambush yourself in caverns and forests.
You solitary one, you go the way to yourself! And your way leads you past yourself and your seven devils!
You will be a heretic to yourself, and a sorcerer and a soothsayer, and a fool, and a doubter, and a reprobate, and a villain.
You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame; how could you rise anew if you have not first become ashes!
You solitary one, you go the way of the creator: you will create a god for yourself out of your seven devils!
You solitary one, you go the way of the lover: you love yourself, and on that account you despise yourself, as only the lover can despise.
The lover wants to create because xe despises! What does xe know of love who has not despised that which xe loved!
With your love and with your creating go into your solitude, my sibling; only much later will justice limp after you.
With my tears, go into your solitude, my sibling. I love xem who seeks to create beyond xemself, and thus perishes.
Thus spoke Zarathustra.
If love truly does conquer all, does not that realize too the power of our OWN love? Our OWN cares‽ What WE love and desire for as well‽ Is the love of another person to be our own salvation but OUR own care is to carry no divine power‽
No, our
own curiosity is a divine agent of change as well—and it gets to change and ripple and confluence influence flow flow ebb flow it gets to change and modify the world of signals too, it gets to make its scream of musical echo out into the anticipating air of the volume of existence, as well. Who is to say that many other things besides romantic love may indulge in us the taste of salvation, and that we too may take up a role in such a dance, as well? Salvation is not merely a passive process but a dance that we partake in—where we seek things, and find unexpected curiosities as well. What is salvation? I say it is not a thing so rare or far, not at all, I say.
Any good moment is a salvation for us. And any curiosity, any fit of passion, any intense taste—this is another salvation, too. Any thing we look forward to: that very feeling, that sparkle beyond us—why, there are countless things I can go on to describe, now. I have kept you for quite some lines, here—but there are still so many things you and I can go on to find. Let us clink our glasses here, and see what we each can find from here on out. I have to depart, now, for I need to go, to keep on looking. May you find the things of greatest fascination as well—there are many who will not tell you of them, who won't expect them, and many of the greatest things are not so great in seemingness, as well—in countenance they seem of low number but in qualia their sensation is truly infinite. How are we to find the words for such magnificent and minute things? Perhaps we may take time to find the words later—perhaps let us mix all other words of curiosity with that word, concept, "salvation".
"Salvation", there is a Latin word, "Salvē!"—akin our term "
Salutations!"—literally meaning "you be well!" in Latin. I also know that "salve" [in English] means "healing balm", too. … I have checked the
etymology now. "Salvātiō" in Latin is a noun, roughly meaning "salvation, deliverance", from the verb "salvō"; "to save (make safe or health)". I think there are countless things that imbue in our tastes of mind the sensations of safeness and harmony; even a person in throes of sickness, in paroxysm, may very well to experience tastes of health and harmony, of capability, of
being, in a feel of safety. The feeling of safety. We can find such a relaxation in countless places.
Romance is a fine thing indeed—among the many fine things existence doth have to offer. As for what is needed for sensual safety and the ideal of salvation: I would say, that the ideal is not necessary to fulfill to be in goodness, to experience something so good it rings resonances in our neurons wanting to seek—and that such an ideal is not as lofty or out of reach as it may seem, but that the truly satisfying tasty reality is less perfect and more enjoyable than the ideal may construe it to mean. There is salvation beyond romance, I would say. Let's not limit ourselves, but look further—deeper, more variably. We should find what can and cannot be done, and know it, so that our diligences may not be self-limitations but true carefulness.
I think a feeling of goodness, no matter which way one reaches it through, is equally divine, agreeable, and worthy, no matter how one gets there. May such a fine feel be something known by you, dear reader. I give you my well wishes—may we find curiosities unspoken of in our seekings. Salvē!
