But not like this.

Damn I am funny.

But no, what I am going to talk about tonight is the struggle I am having between the sweet and gentle person I am (most of the time) and the flaming raging arsehole that my id wants me to be.

Turns out,. this whole integrating you id into your psyche after ignoring and suppressing it for most of your life is kind of…. tricky.

Because the bad stuff I have been thinking lately really, really wants to come out. And it flares up at the slightest annoyance. I feel besieged by my own hair-trigger sarcasm and biting back those words is a daily struggle.

Of course, my wants me to give in and let it run loose. That’s what the id always wants in one form or another.

If my id had its way. I would tturn into an angry dragon that roars and breathes fire until all know and fear my name and nobody is ever going to ignore, step on, or deny my reality ever again unless they want to risk my sick burns.

And you know the form my fire would take. Words. Oh so many words. The urge to use the enormous power of my words is strong and getting stronger. Words are my weapon, my shield, and my nuclear arsena. I have felt their power for a long time, in an abstract way. Same with my enormous intelligence. I felt its power too.

But without a healthy id, all the power did was scare the daylights out of me. It made me far too worried that my slightest move could hurt someone, and there was no way I was even vaguely ready to take on the weight of responsibility such power implies.

Perhaps if I were a more irresponsible, that would not be such a deal. WIthout my deep and precise belief that power and responsibility are always exactly equal, I would be freer to throw my mental weight around for my own advantage or even just for my own amusement, or just to see if I can do it.

But the degree to which power and responsibilty are equal is my definition of justice, and therefore I cannot tolerate any discrepency within myself.

That dog don’t hunt.

However, it is possible that when it comes down to the fine details, I am too harsh on myself,. and imagine small insensitivies as massive crimes and give other people way too little credit for being able to handle less than perfect behaviour on my part.

I mean, I have very high moral standards but I am a human being, not an angel, and I should give myself the exact same kind of kindness, forgiveness, and understanding that I give to everybody else.

I’m working on it.

Back to that angry dragon. It’s a product of decades of deep, deep imbalance in my psyche. The id is there for a reason. It is not optional, despite what the ego thinks. There is no such thing as the ego flying free of the id into some kind of falsely dichotomous state where the mind is “pure energy”, whatever the fuck THAT means.

Might as well be talking about “pure mass”. The mass of what?

Because this imbalance has been so profound for so long,. correcting it means letting the pendulum freely swing the other way and back until it runs out of energy and comes to rest in the moderate middle.

Otherwise known as “sanity”.

So it’s going to be a bumpy trip, to put it mildly. I am only connecting now with emotions most people learn to deal with their teens. Rage. Lust. Ambition. Desire.

You know. all the really fun stuff that they love to put on movie posters and the covers of potboiler romance novels.

Dealing with this stuff is like getting the German Measles – the older you are, the worse it’s going to be.

It’s clear to me now that if nature had taken its course, I would have “blossomed” into a rude, angry, sarcastic teen (in other words, a teen) and that would have led me to a lot of butting heads with authority – especially as school – and generally being that raging flaming arsehole I mentioned earlier until I had vented enough and matured enough to calm the fuck down and get a grip on myself.

And wow, would I have been obnoxious. Way more then the usual teen, because the usual teen is restrained by social worries. lack of confidence, and the limits of their budding intellects and verbal skills.

I have no such limits. I have total intellectual confidence at all times – that comes from always being the smartest person in the room starting in Grade One.

I have always been willing to make a big scene if it suits me.

Deep down, I don’t give a fuck what people think of me. I have always been ferociously myself no matter what, and that has always trumped any concerns I might have had about beng popular and fitting in.

Ironically. that might have made me pretty popular if it came with the confidence and a certain degree of calculated aggression.

Oh, and we can’t forget my deep level of psychological insight, because that’s what would make my sarcasm really hurt.

I can see people’s weaknesses and vulnerabilities. I can see everything. It takes no effort. It’s as basic to how I see the world as my sense of sight.

Being a very nice and very sensitive person, I do not exploit this knowledge for personal gain and I would never use it to hurt someone except in self-defense,and that would have to be a pretty desperate situation for me to feel it is justified.

I’ve done it accidentally or in reaction before, and the guilt is… indecribable.

But without crippling neurosis. I might have taken that bad path I feel I narrowly avoided because some people were nice enough to explain things to me.

I might have become that obnoxious, manipulative, arrogant, self-centered asshole who loves nothing more than proving how much smarter than everyone else he is by taking whatever the fuck strikes his fancy and leaving people without a single way to object because they are simply not articulate enough to describe what I did to them.

I hate that version of me. But he will always be there in potentia. My id integration (idtegration?) has woken him up like never before.

And it’s up to me to make sure that other, better versions of myself win out.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.