Aspirations and reality

It isn't the normal kind of pain. U know. The one that burns or tears in your skin. The one that squeezes or stretches your bones. The one that dents the inside of your skull or numbs it and makes you hold your head in your own two hands trying to disseminate the pain away and into your arms.
No.
This is a different kind of pain. One that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies. One that I've felt for the first time and hopefully the last. It is the pain that magnifies itself every time you get weaker. It lingers around in the back of your mind until the right moment to strike and when it does, you'll be tossing and turning in your bed sheets pulling at the soft fabric that has become a mirage of hope. By now you've forgotten there's a world outside. That there's was a life before this and one after. It is the kind of pain that breaks the meaning in the sound of your name because it makes you question the fundamental beliefs about yourself. In my case that belief was strength. It was mind over matter. It was will power vs physical capacity.

It broke me.
It broke me by ripping my only consoling voice away from my frail body. The only one that kept me going, the only one that keeps saying just a little longer, just a bit higher. I was segmented. As every part of me started fending for itself I became divided.
It broke me by seeping into my chest and showing me how delicate it is. How controllable it is. A sweeping negative thought or memory sent my heart racing and my whole body ecstatic. Then it stops. And I feel the pain in my heart, like the horse that gets scared to death one too many times. Except the scare here was not as significant but diverse and consistent. I was like the spending teenager with great fortune but no steady income, bit by bit and I was finished (I notice my fingers lingering here before I declare my worst fears) I am finished.
It broke me by pushing me in every right direction abruptly and I took one too many hits. More than the average man can handle. More than the average man would aspire for. But my spark of aspiration that got me started with all my responsibilities, soon disappeared and left me to my own demise.
I always thought I was special that even under the worst circumstances I can push myself to achieve more, to learn more, to be more. But it doesn't work that way as I am not made of metal and plastic but of flesh and bone and soul. The body gets weary and the soul - the ever so deluding soul- the soul gets the abuse and slowly crumbles. Except the dying soul does not break in the same manner. No, I have yet to uncover this. But I can say this much, it was my biggest pride and joy when I started the journey and now, now my weakened soul is an adversary, ripping at me every chance it gets. It is not evil in essence I know this, but a dog abused and underfed will bite the hand that feeds it after the torment.

The pain broke me by simply posing the question and I answered it for myself.
One, I am not invincible.
Two, mind over matter has limits.
Three, running the sprint, even for just a year, won't work.
Along the way I will change and my convictions will weaken with every blow and as I attempt to mend my smaller wounds my mindset changes, I forget what was and focus on what is. It becomes my reality, it becomes me. Without any written acknowledgment for this before hand, I fear the aspiring adolescent has quickly turned into the sinister pessimist.

I hate to admit it but my pain has proven me wrong. As I lay here, on what seems a bed of sorrow and misery, perhaps only one hope lingers. To reverse the order of my downfall and rebuild what I can scavenge from the debris.