Specifically, he knows that smart people don’t like him.
I talk about it here.
For a pathological narcissist to even admit that there are people who do not like them, and that therefore a negatively associated tag actually applies to them, is a big step.
I don’t actually think he’s going to have a Grinch moment where his heart grows three sizes and he starts joyfully giving all his money away, though if I was him, leaving it to my dipshit kids wouldn’t seem like an attractive idea either.
But honestly, any little crack in his narcissistic armor is noteworthy just for the insight it grants those of us following his pathology.
After all, you can’t spell “pathological liar” without….
Now on to my own little world. I took a rather difficult pee a little while ago and it has me worried about my waterworks.
My pee came out in his meandering little trickle and I had a very strong feeling of straining to get it out, to the point where it made me dizzy and nauseous and lightheaded and I had to sit down for ten minutes or so before getting my lunch from the kitchen because I was afraid I would faint and/or throw up.
Things have settled down now, but obviously I’m very concerned about this. Unless my next pee is normal, I am going to have to seriously consider another trip to Urgent Care because urinary blockage is no laughing matter. In fact, it’s the kind of thing that might require emergency surgery if a catheter doesn’t do the trick.
And with me, it won’t. The last three times someone has tried to catheterize me, the tube has met some kind of blockage that kept it from making it to my bladder.
In fact, one time in the ER at Richmond Hospital, I had to scream at a nurse to keep her and her buddy from ramming the thing through.
I don’t know what was blocking the tube but I know that it was definitely a vital part of me and that stupid bitch could have killed me if she’d punctured it.
Obviously I am still pretty upset about that. I shouldn’t have to scream to save my own life from the butchery of supposed nurses.
But I digress.
My point is, the catheter likely still won’t be able to make it through. I am guess my completely untreated umbilical hernia is in the way and if that’s the case, they might have to skip straight to surgery.
And man, would that suck. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I don’t want to have to spend time in the hospital. Being in the hospital sucks.
Unlike Homer Simpson, I am not nearly oral retentive enough to enjoy being in the hospital lying in bed all god damned day.
I mean, I could do that right here at home if I wanted to. But luckily being so bereft of motive force that I can’t get out of bed has never been part of my depression.
Because I get bored. And I have a computer. So it’s an easy solve.
But who knows. Maybe without a computer I would be forced to go out into the world to find the high level of mental stimulation I need.
Or I would just stay home and go crazy. That would be a lot less work.
My disability forces me into this position of being terminally online. But I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not like I do nothing but play video games.
I make a video and I write in my blog every day. That’s productivity of a sort.
What I do matters!
More after the break.
Oh yeah, and this happened.
Skin peeling off me like it’s about to be revealed that I’m an alien from V.
But for now I have mostly stopped peeling it off because it ended up giving me a small but quite painful cut on my palm and I have gotten most it off anyhow.
I found a similar patch on the other hand but it turned out to be a perfectly ordinary skin tag and not the final sign that I have, in fact, started to moult.
My life is so fucked up.
Screaming into the wind
The wind, in case, being my depression.
The sheer amount that my mental illness simply negates out of existence, like it was never even real, is staggering. All these emotions and perceptions and motivations get instantly and ruthlessly devoured by the ravenous void inside.
I used to visualize said void as a black hole, but lately it’s seem more like a blank section of sky that devours all that enter it without so much as a tiny flash of light.
It’s just gone.
And I know that most of what powers it is internalized anger. It destroys all out of a pure distilled nihilistic rage that wants to destroy everything in the universe as a twisted kind of revenge against the pain of existence.
Look, reality, either you go, or I do.
This universe ain’t big enough for both of us.
Time for the obvious song reference.
There is definitely a very hungry, very angry monster inside of me that wants nothing more than to devour everything.
It’s the logical end product of all the rage I have inside me with no escape route. It’s the garbage dump monster that lives at the bottom of the deep dark shadowy pit where I dump all the troublesome emotions (which is most of them) and they become more and more concentrated and pure over time till they have no reason or justification or righteous target any more, they are the raw loathing of absolutely everything.
And obviously I know that the way to defeat this monster is to let out all the anger it contains but I have been grappling with that need for decades without getting anywhere with it. I’m still the same clogged up half-person that I have always been.
But maybe that’ll change. I wake up a little more each day. Maybe I will eventually shake off the funk of forty thousand years (give or take) and truly wake up to the world and be able to go out there and play with the other kids at long, long last.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.