Yes, we’re back on that subject again. And once more, right after therapy.

I brought it up in therapy because I felt I needed some extra help processing the whole thing, and well, that’s a big part of what therapy is for, in my never all that humble opinion. Getting help with the processing.

I talked about how I feel like truly embracing my mental power would pull me even further away from others into this airlessly intellectual inner aerie where I would finally go completely insane from lack of human connection.

Perhaps I cling so hard to my delusions of minor normalcy for precisely that reason.

That, and the fact that the alternatives do not appeal to me. When I try to imagine actually thinking of myself as massively intelligent and way smarter than the average person, the best case scenario I can think of is to take a lovingly and gently paternalistic attitude towards my fellow human beings.

Look at them like a parent looks at a child, with great love coupled by the knowledge that they are weaker and more fragile than I am, and I must protect them and treat them gently or they might get hurt.

That’s the best case scenario. Other scenarios include declaring that I am going to do as giants do and the pygmies can take  care of themselves. I’d be like an intellectual Godzilla, massive in power and size, and my atomic breath would be my razor sharp wit and deadly sarcasm.

Or I could embrace misanthropy, like so many others in my situation. Declare that the continuing stupidity of humanity make them unfit for my help, and pointedly withdraw from any humanitarian efforts, and spend my time concentrating on makiing my own life as pleasant and pain free as possible.

But even the crustiest of curmudgeons needs some way to connect with their fellow human beings. It’s a basic need, like food, and being an angry fussy eater does not exempt your from your need for nutrition.

Oh, and of course, going full supervillain crazy is always an option too, with delusions of grandeur and madly manic periods where I feel like I am the smartest person there will ever be and it’s my destiny to be the one and only true saviour of humanity who will drag them kicking and screaming into a new enlightened age.

In other words, conquer the world and remake it in my image because that’s the only way to make sure things are done right.

Anyhow. I guess I am still looking for that way to integrate my knowledge of my intellectual prowess into my self-image. How to be both smart and happy, more or less.

What really scares me is the contempt. I feel like if I was to embrace the true scope and might of my intellect, I would view most of the rest of the human race with sneering contempt at what a bunch of drooling zombies they all are.

I don’t want to go there. But it flows from the big brain and ego thing. It’s very hard to look down at people from Olympian heights without… well, looking down on them.

Which touches on another issue : how to have a big brain without getting a swelled head. The ego thing. I can’t imagine having a big powerful brain that puts me way above most other people (family and friends excluded) without coming to the conclusion that I am goddamned amazing and people should be glad when I so much as pay attention to them because I have such enormous thoughts to think.

In this, I am very human. Our sense of social hierarchy is so strong that we can’t imagine being far more powerful than others without concluding that this means we are the alpha of alphas, the capo de capo, the biggest dog in the doghouse.

And that, in turn, has a tendency to turn people into assholes.

Power corrupts, after all.

All of this would not be a problem if I was better at connecting with others. Said connection would help keep me grounded in the real world so that I don’t float off into the sky to be lost forever.

I’ve had nightmares like that.

But sadly, I am not so well moored. And I don’t know how to fix that. I know what would do it – finding a milieu in which I feel totally comfortable and accepted and relaxed – but I don’t know if such a place even exists.

And if it does, I have this uncomfortable feeling that it would involve me being in charge of everything and it all revolving around my needs.

Doesn’t get much more oral retentive than that.

But no, I suppose it could be a position of harmonious equality as long as I felt values and respected and included there.

And that, of course, has a hell of a lot more to do with me and my issues than any kind of external factor.

I have so much pain, fear, mistrust, and latent rage that comes between me and others. The simplest of social situations sets off a hyperdimensional vortex of emotions and issues in my mind, leaving me numb , confused, and weak for reasons utterly opaque to those of you living outside my head.

And that’s most of you.

Under those circumstances, it is impossible for me to be emotionally open. Picking up on nonverbal social cues is also very difficult. Too much of my mind is preoccupied with managing and suppressing my inner fireworks for me to do anything but rather limply try to keep up with the conversation.

And if I am in a room full of young people, I can’t even do that.

The textbook thing for people like me in such circumstance is to declare most people to be idiots and thus unworthy of your attention.

In other words, sour grapes.

But I can’t do that. I am too honest with myself to externalize my issues onto others when I know damned well that it’s me that is different, not them.

And yet. I can’t imagine embracing my intellect without ending up there.

Guess I’m just not smart enough to figure it out.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

I think that part of the natural burden that comes with high IQ, especially when it is coupled with an expansive mind like mind, is that you see further and deeper than others. And don’t get me wrong, there can be huge advantages to that.

But when you are a utilitarian humanist like myself, you often feel like Cassandra, able to see the dangers coming but not being able to convince anyone of their reality. So you feel helpless against the tide of doom.

There is also a form of paranoia unique to the farsighted. It comes from that Cassandra feeling, and manifests as a feeling that you have to be looking for danger everywhere at all times because you’re stuck being the advanced scout for your herd and it is your your job to look down all possible paths to make sure the herd doesn’t end up blundering off a cliff or running directly into the jaws of a lion.

And sometimes, in moments of sadness or frustration, we might find ourselves envying the blinkered point of view of the average human being. They don’t see what you see. They don’t worry like you worry. They can just live their lives never looking at the path ahead, just getting through the day, assuming everything will be OK.

But you know, in your heart, that your mind could never fit into such a tiny space,. and that if everything does continue to be OK for the majority, it will be because of people like you clearing the path ahead.

As patient readers know, I have always seen and understood more than was probably good for me. I could tell when people were being insincere. I could see the difference between what they said and what they meant. I understood where people were coming from. I wasn’t consciously aware of this ability until I was in grade 4 or 5, but it was always there. And that alone robbed me of a certain kind of innocence.

It also made me more humanist as well because I could see how people struggle and how even unpleasant people had their reasons for being that way and how none of us get through life without heartache and pain.

Every person you have ever been jealous of is dealing with burdens you can never understand. Every person who seems to “have it all” is acutely aware of how much more to life there is than that. Every rich and powerful person is, like ourselves, an incomplete animal looking for love and connection and validation.

It’s a well-rounded perspective that gives me a very deep level of feeling for the humanity in all of us. To understand is to forgive, not because you are a bad person if you have hostile feelings towards anyone, but because when you look beneath the masks people wear, you always see another confused monkey trying to find the door into happiness just like you.

To me, that is the heart and soul of humanism – that looking beneath the surfaces we project and recognizing how fragile and vulnerable we all are.

This perspective on life often wins plaudits from people because it sounds so good, but when people try to apply it to their own lives,. they give it up pretty fast because  they are comfortable with their hatreds, resentments, and perceptions of others and to change that would be to change how they look at everything.

It’s a struggle. I have been wrestling with it my whole life, and I find it very hard sometimes. Part of me wishes I could be that blinkered member of the herd and act from emotion and stop trying to figure everything out all the time.

But there is no way to shrink a broadened mind short of brain trauma. You have outgrown your previous point of view, and trying to return to it is like trying to fit into the clothes you wore as a child.

It just plain won’t work.

It can be seen as a conflict between my humanitarianism and my humanity. The high holy ethics of true, deep humanitarianism must coexist with my being a stumbling naked monkey just like everyone else.

As attractive as the prospect might be, there is no way to leave your earthly self behind and move in with your higher ethics.

And some of the most dangerous people in the world are those who have convinced themselves that they have done so, because that makes them stop questioning themselves and holding themselves accountable.

Yup. Just like Donald Trump.

I have completely forgotten what I set out to talk about.

Oh right, the dangers of being a visionary.

The dangers can be dealt with. Developing a solid set of limits to how much responsibility you bear helps. I am working on that myself.

I’ve never been fond of barriers between me and others, but as it turns out, you need them in order to keep yourself together.

Forgiving yourself for being human is another big part of it. That’s much harder than recognizing the humanity you share with others. From a humanist point of view, the flaws and imperfections of others can be downright endearing.

But the judgements we lay upon ourselves are much harder to forgive because they become part of our identity, and changes in identity can seem like death to people.

Remember, whenever a butterfly is born, a caterpillar dies.

So we resist self-forgiveness instinctively. It’s too big a change for a lot of people, myself included. We can sense that to forgive oneself would change everything about how we view the world and ourselves, and because we are unable to imagine what that would be like, we view it as chaos and madness and horrible, and resist it.

How much healthier would we be if we all understand that it is impossible to stop being yourself? The real you… your core identity… is unchanging and immutable. New information can no more change who you really are than it can change you into a cheetah. You always have been and will always be yourself.

All that can happen is that you learn more about yourself. And while some of that is bound to be bad news and lead to the death of who you thought you were, the real you will still be there.

In fact, it will have grown.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.