What can I say. We’re tragic souls.
Perhaps it’s our tendency to see the truths of existence. Perhaps we’re attracted to sadness because it allows us to flutter our fingers upon the pulse of life. Either way, as INFPs, we’re prone to sinking into silky pools of melancholy and drowning in it. Quietly.
I know my words do not scratch the surface of how horrible these periods feel. Often, they’re triggered by something – a seepage of reality into our previously impenetrable mold of idealism, a criticism, a fresh pain – but either way, they feel like dying, they feel like the world is ending, they feel like shadows and nothingness and curling. Nothing feels worth doing. You don’t feel worth doing anything. What talents? What hope? Isn’t this just a harsh world of broken dreams and delusions and fools?
There aren’t many ways of getting through this, other than riding it out. That’s the best way to go about doing it: lie on the beach and let the black, glossy waves tremble over your form until the tide recedes and leaves you washed up on gritty sand and rocks, breathing heavily but still alive. Still alive.
Or, you could take comfort in the thought that you’re not alone. No-one is ever alone in their misery – there’s always somewhere out there who is feeling worse than you. But, in the moment, when our minds are focused on our own pain, IT HURTS, IT HURTS, even our empathy and imagination takes a bit of a hit.
Then, there are a few things worth doing to remind yourself of the light that still exists in the world, and your life. Most times, they don’t work. The grief is too powerful. But, if employed in combination, they can perhaps wreak a change on your psyche. Haul you back up out of the abyss before the darkness swallows you completely.
- Do what you love. What do you like doing? Reading? Writing? Don’t worry about if you’re good at it. Don’t worry about the outcome. Just do it because you love it, and let the love of the act pour through you like spring water to cleanse away the cesspools of pain that have gathered in your mind.
- Go on the internet and find other INFPs. We understand you. One of the reasons I even started blogging was because I was feeling lonely, melancholy and sad. Send me a message on this blog – I’ll try and offer as much comfort as I can. Talk to people on forums, such as Personality Cafe, and voice your pain. You can reach it, and feel less alone in your misery.
- Find philosophical quotes on melancholy, loneliness and suffering. There have been wiser people just as human as us who grappled with these same woes, and their words are balm to the soul. Repeat them to yourself; let the words sink in. I know it hurts. Unfortunately, it’s just a part of being human, hurting, and it all depends on how you react towards it.
- Hug someone. The touch of another human being is miraculous. Anyone. A friend. Your mother. Your brother. Anyone.
- This is something I’ve found to be helpful as I’ve grown older, and more mature in my philosophical understanding of the world: remember it’s all just an illusion. It all ends. It’s all transient. It’s all a dream, this life, this world, this existence, and one that comes to an end when we die. Oblivion. Lots and lots of oblivion. No-one knows anything. Everyone howls on the inside. Take it as it is. Flow with it. There’s nothing more you can do. Serene acceptance is the best attitude to take in regards to bouts of melancholy, my friend.
And don’t forgot, sadness is not always a bane. Great works of art have sprouted from moments of terrible suffering. Melancholy can make you feel more human, and give you a better perspective on what truly matters in life. Hang in there. I don’t know you, you don’t know me, but we share a kinship, through our hearts and our beings, I’m here for you. My heart pulses for you. We are the one and the same. Living, breathing, existing, feeling.
You won’t be okay. Nothing and no-one ever is. It’s about smiling for the sake of smiling. About living for the sake of living. Finding the small joys, and kissing existence even when it bats you down.