As opposed to ego-y or superego-y.
Just came home from therapy. It was a great session because I got all angry and bitter and emotional, and that means I got some things out of my system, and in a safe environment to boot.
Better that I should get iddy in therapy than go ballistic in real life.
And when I has my blood up, I declared that I didn’t give a fuck if this current version of myself had to die – or as my therapist put it, burn up like a phoenix – in order to be reborn as a happier version of myself.
In fact, I said, I no longer even care if I have to become a worse person in order to be happier. Whatever it takes. I am going to be happy, god damn it, no matter what.
I will become a happier, healthier, stronger version of myself by any means necessary.
If that means I have to take my id off the chain completely and turn into the manipulative, dismissive, flippant, arrogant bastard that has always lived inside me, that is fine with me.
Dark side, light side, sunny side up…. whatever it takes to make me happy, and to hell with the effect it has on others.
In therapy, I said that I feel trapped by all my concern for others. And I do. Like I said before, I feel like Gulliver in Lilliput, unable to move for fear of squishing a Lilliputian.
Well to hell with all these little people around me. I am going to be happy, and woe betide any of them who get in my way, because I will go over, around, or through them in order to get where I want to go.
If they are lucky, I will signal my intention so that they can scramble out of the way.
But I might not.
I am just so sick and tired of being so goddamned sensitive and responsible. There has to be some room to manuever in my life and if that means I have to smash down a few walls – that might be made of people – to get some, so be it.
Like the aforementioned phoenix, I need to burn my old self till there is nothing left but smoke and ashes so that I might be reborn, like a forest after a forest fire, fresh and new and without all the dead wood and parasites I had before.
It’s a lot like dying, in the sense that the true meaning of death is the death of your identity – the person you think of as “you”.
I am therefore announcing my intention to murder myself, metaphorically speaking. Farewell, the person I am right now – you weren’t a bad guy, and had a lot going for you, but you were weak and cowardly and completely incapable of actually capitalize on all your amazing gifts, so new me is taking over and is going to get things done.
There’s a new sheriff in town, and his name is Natural Mike.
More after the break.
Well that stuff felt good to vent.
As to how much of it I really mean, I refuse to figure it out. It was something I needed to say and I said it. That’s all that is important.
Whether it is of any use for deducing my “true nature” (pheh) or predicting ,my future actions or attitudes is beside the point.
I am certainly keeping as tight a hold of my determination to be happy as I can. It’s time I started putting myself first at least some of the time and on some levels.
I have only been so weak because my spirit was too weak and/or cowardly to assert my self and my right to exist around the other souls I sense so clearly and who seem so much bigger, more important, and more powerful than my own pale shadow.
This is one of the many symptoms of a severely compromised sense of self and the disastrously and deeply low self esteem attached to it.
It’s hard to be healthy when deep down, you don’t feel like you deserve to exist, and feel the need to hide from everything so that nobody notices that you are still around and remembers how much you suck and kicks you out into the cold.
I wish I was exaggerating.
I also feel like I have to constantly and cringingly apologize for being alive. And I have spoken before about how I feel like I deserve absolutely nothing, not even existence.
Whether or not any of that is “true” in the objective sense is kind of beside the point. My bad childhood and bad chemicals will continue to make me feel this way until the underlying damage is dealt with.
And I am making progress. Every time I remind myself of my extraordinary gifts and sweet nature, those facts come a little closer to actually connecting with my self-worth and making me feel better about myself.
It’s still a long road ahead, though. I have been gifted for my entire life. But nobody in my life ever treated it as a good thing with any inherit value. So I don’t value it like I should either. I never learned to.
I am still too much like the kid version of me who saw my gifts as useless at best and a burden at worst. All I got out of them as a kid is a lot of stultifying boredome in class and a lot of abuse on the playground.
So I know, intellectually. that my gifts are worth a lot, but it sure doesn’t feel that way. Emotionally, they still feel absurdly worthless to me.
Like they are some kind of sick joke suitable only to make my loserdom more ironic.
“Hah hah, there you are with gifts people would give both gametes to possess, and you STILL are a loser who lets life pass him by in favor of playing video games all day!” cackles the demon that is my inner bully.
And I am trying hard to learn to value myself.
But the only road to that goal appears to start in all that shit my id said up above.
And I don’t want to have to go there.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.