It’s so crazy that before I went through profound suffering I used to romanticize my pain, and now that it surrounds me constantly and creeps into every part of my life like a black sludge slowly rising to the ceiling, to hear people tell me that I must enjoy feeling this way makes me feel as though my pain has already consumed me entirely, that while I sit in the belly of my grief surrounded by sorrow, any attempt to pull myself out is futile and unseen.