Helplessness is when you wake up in the morning and for two seconds, lights filters in and then reality hits and your wretchedness fall on you like a ton of bricks and you are pinned down under the weight of all that is wrong with you. The worse part is that you believe all of it and you deserve it. And you lie there staring at the ceiling going through the motions to reinforce why you deserve to feel like this and yet try to find reasons compelling enough to get round to functioning.
At times this takes 20 minutes, at times a few hours.
At these times, the point is existence is questioned and faith dissipates. And you feel beaten. and weak. Forgotten and derided. When the bad has wiped out every thing good. Which contributes to the vicious cycle. And you know that you will always be alone. Even in a crowd. The one outside looking in, with longing and envy.
When I was chided as a child for not having a backbone, little did I know how close to the truth it was. Perhaps some are born with more gumption. But as water eventually erodes the cliffs, human resolve will whittle away eventually no matter how strong. And mine has been flimsy at most. Still how to regain that which has been lost, especially when what is lost is essentially myself?