The Path of Pain

I’ve been burdened by two afflictions in my life. Both have caused immense pain and suffering. Not just to myself, but to those around me.

I liken them to dragons.

And they’ve left a truly harrowing path of destruction in their wake.

The first one is addiction.

The second is Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD).

Clashing with but one of these foul beasts was bad enough.

But oftentimes, whilst I was battle-weary from slaying one, the other would come swooping in from behind — attempting to land a devastating blow.

On my worst of days, they would merge together.

And suddenly I’d find myself squaring up to a monstrous, two-headed creature — one suited only to the most nightmarish realms of hell.

And therein began a world of pain.

An inferno of raging hellfire that reigned down upon me. Ready to incinerate what remained of my dwindling spirit.

It was all I could do in those moments to cast myself off the cliffs of battle, diving headfirst into the icy depths below.

Spiralling within the stormy, whirling waters of depression, I was eventually swallowed by despair.

Bound in steely chains by the ghosts of those I’d lost along the way — they shackled me to the lonely depths of misery.

They weighed heavy on me.

Haunted me.

I was drowning in suffering.

Consumed by agonising pain.

— I sank to rock bottom.

The Lighthouse

Submerged deep within a sea of sorrow, a bright light pierced through the surface of the murky water.

My body was lifeless: wounded, scarred and bloodied.

But my soul sought solace. And clung desperately to hope.

That light…

It felt.. warm.

It compelled me to swim toward it. Slowly enticing me out of the darkness.

And from the very brink of defeat…

I had finally arrived.

(What is this energy..?)

Upon entering the Buddhist Centre, I immediately felt a sense of relief.

I was at long last sheltered from the torrential storm.

Exhausted, I laid down my broken sword and shield and stepped tentatively inside.

(What is this feeling..?)

I remember sitting at the back of the room. The silent observer. Taking everything in around me.

I was slowly adjusting from the coldness of isolation to the warmth of connection.

I was a stranger to these people. And yet.. here they greeted me like a friend.

(I understand now..)

And the more I talked to them, the more I felt this underlying sense of.. belonging.

(This feels like.. home).

Meditation was a welcome respite following the incessant onslaught that plagued me.

Here, my dragons slumbered.

And I could cultivate a sense of peace from the stillness of just simply.. sitting.

It was as if the sun had dispersed the darkened clouds.

I could observe my thoughts and feelings within a serene environment. I was no longer at their mercy.

Here, I learned to love myself — with Metta.

And I began to open up my heart to loving others, having, only recently, closed myself off from the world.

I knew little about Buddhism when I first arrived at the centre.

But over time I became increasingly involved in unravelling the intricacies of the teachings.

‘Overcoming dissatisfaction and suffering:’ Now there’s something I was in dire need of.

And then:

The Five Precepts

The Noble Eightfold Path

The Four Noble Truths

Impermanence

Enlightenment

— and so much more.

I’d been gifted a treasure trove of practical knowledge that I could study and apply to everyday living.

Perhaps even a weapon or three for my arsenal in defending against these pesky, unrelenting dragons.

Where my attendance had, for a time, been a ‘once a week’ thing, I now find myself coming back regularly to the centre — averaging five to seven times a week.

Something keeps me coming back.

Perhaps it’s the desire to overcome my pain.

Or to water the ever-growing bonds I’ve made within the Sangha.

Maybe it’s for the peace that comes from meditation.

Or to simply delve into a library of teachings, and become a wiser, more developed person.

— But most likely, it’s the culmination of all of these things, and more.

And with that, my commitment to the order has grown.

At the time of writing this, I’ve decided to become a Mitra — a choice I didn’t make quickly, or lightly.

Whilst I continue to fight my battles and endure pain day to day, Buddhism holds a space for me to fall back and recover in refuge — whenever I need it.

The war against my dragons is becoming more and more manageable as I continue to adhere to my practice and apply what I’ve learned.

For those of you who have, or are going through, hard times — my heart goes out to you.

Whatever dragons may come your way, just know that you are strong enough to confront them.

We’re in this fight together, my friend.

— With Metta.