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“In fact, there never was even a me or you that suffered all that pain. The pain itself was real, even lethal — but the solid, unchanging self that seemed to feel it was an illusion. What’s more, the lie of that solid ego gave the pain a place to roost, a place to stick and fester and worsen . . . And maybe this is another reason radical disillusionment hurts so terribly: it means acknowledging your own death, or the death of that thing that for years you believed was you, the false self that your life-lies were protecting.” — Steven Heighton
In fact, there never was even a me or you that suffered all that pain. The pain itself was real, even lethal — but the solid, unchanging self that seemed to feel it was an illusion. What’s more, the lie of that solid ego gave the pain a place to roost, a place to stick and fester and worsen . . . And maybe this is another reason radical disillusionment hurts so terribly: it means acknowledging your own death, or the death of that thing that for years you believed was you, the false self that your life-lies were protecting.