Worthless

I feel so small, so worthless, so useless. What do I actually add? I try all kinds of things so that this feeling will change. I take care of things, I organize, I act. But nothing fills that feeling of worthlessness inside me. I just can’t seem to make it work. I want to be useful, I want to work again, to show myself, to share what I can do. But something invisible keeps pulling me back. And it makes me stay invisible. I write and share less, I post less on social media. Because what do I really have to say? There are thousands who can say it better than I can. What do I add? I feel like a loser. I am sad. And deeply gloomy.

Sometimes a deep feeling of worthlessness overwhelms me, of not experiencing the right to exist, of feeling so incredibly small. My mind immediately starts explaining and analyzing. It’s because of the pain from the past, because I never felt seen, because I’m not contributing financially, because I’ve been living with chronic pain for years. And all of that could be true. Or not. It doesn’t matter for the moment as it appears; with intense feelings of not being of value.

If I follow the story anyway — the analysis that lies on top of the physical sensations — I lose myself in actions. In activities that, in my eyes, are valuable and might make me feel temporarily useful. But it never works. Never really.

Today I remain seated. I breathe while the sensations are rushing through my body. Thoughts begin to call louder and louder; distraction, this way! I keep breathing. I ask what the pain in my body wants to tell me. I feel that something wants to flow that’s still stuck. Thoughts start shouting again. I keep breathing toward the place that hurts and invite whatever wants to come. And then it begins to flow. I cry, my body shakes to release tension. At first a bit awkward, but soon there is only this. I land in where I am. In what I feel.

I feel small there, very small. I notice that my mind now offers a spiritual escape; I am only consciousness, so this crying is unnecessary. But this trick is seen. It even seems to be carried by the moment itself, just as it comes now. As deep sadness, without a story.

Here, only this experience left. Pain, sadness… the words no longer fit because there’re no words anymore. There’s nothing to do here, nothing to remove, add, or fix. There’s nothing to manage because there’s nothing that needs managing. The feeling that I must do something in order to be of value falls away, because there’ s only an experience.

In this place I feel intensely small and at the same time completely held. Because I’m exactly where I am. Fully present. Completely worthless. Completely alive. Exactly in place. I know nothing. I don’t know what I will do. I don’t know how life will unfold. I only know that I am, here and now.