How is it possible to sit here and be reminiscing about old time trauma and pain for comfort?

My first winter in Omeo was the toughest time of my entire life up until then, laying in bed so sick that I was unable to take care of my animals or myself for that matter... it was lonely and painful, but somehow I survived. I long for that pain, this is impossible... the memory of that time is an old friend right now, offering comfort. 

I long for that time... that time when so many things just simply didn't exist: no Sabbaths, no polish lunches, no gadowskies, or sign language or the worry over belonging.... there were no let downs, no questions, no unrequited love and no chest pain. This fucking chest pain (God, forgive me).

So I just take it one day at a time, one foot after the other hoping that everything will hurt a little less and if it's supposed to be, maybe one day I cross paths with a Finn. Even better: if that happens, I hope to have my wits about me to recognize and appreciate it.