My pain is constant and sharp...this confession has meant nothing
Suffering does not change its face.
I feel hurt and pain times a million, all the time.
For it would be better to die once and for all than to suffer pain for all one's life.
When I was 25, it was painful. I was getting out of bed in the morning and couldn't walk. But when you are young, you don't care; it will pass. But one year after another, it's like, 'Come on, give me a break!'
The big 'Aha!' moment is that the trauma never goes away.
Sometimes I don't know what to say; the pain never stops. The cloud never goes away, the rain never drops
Family quarrels are bitter things. They don't go according to any rules. They're not like aches or wounds, they're more like splits in the skin that won't heal because there's not enough material.
And, as long as you can make yourself go on choosing the pain over the relief, you can keep going.
Misery is a match that never goes out.
That's the funny thing about old hurts- they just wait for new heartache to come along and then show up, just as sharp and horrible as the first day you woke up with the world changed all around you.
She had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life when there was nothing physically wrong. She hurt all the time.
The pain is unrelenting; one does not abandon, even briefly, one's bed of nails, but is attached to it wherever one goes.
Occasionally now I feel a wang that goes in my head - once you've got it you've got it. The [illness] was quite severe, leaving me deeply unhappy and frightened.
The Mississippi is not the only river. There's the Tallahatchie and the Big Black. People have been put in the river year after year, these things been happening.
Look at the American history of slavery. Can you say that hundreds of years later that has been eased? That pain has not yet been eased.
...History it seemed could be something entirely different a splash of blood whose agony didn't fade overnight or over centuries.
There were moments when I felt seriously unhinged; when I was convinced that I would never, ever recover from what had happened, when it was absolutely clear to me that life from this point on would be constant agony.
Everything gives way before the recurring torment and festivity of passion.
My pain's not ashamed to repeat itself
It is the little things that pierce and burn and prick for years to come.
we do not die of anguish, we live on. We continue to suffer. We drink the cup drop by drop.
Mild depression is a gradual and sometimes permanent thing that undermines people the way rust weakens iron ... Like physical pain that becomes chronic, it is miserable not so much because it is intolerable in the moment as because it is intolerable to have known it in the moments gone and to look forward only to knowing it in the moments to come.
agony sometimes changes form but it never ceases for anybody.
