Did the therapy thing today.
As I’d planned, I started off by saying “I suppose I should explain why Joe tried to strangle me… “. As I predicted, he laughed.
I figured there was a 75 percent chance he’d laugh and 25 percent he’d be shocked and say something like “Oh my god, what happened?”.
What can I say, I could not resist milking my story for dramatic effect.
So I told him about the argument and my role in its escalation to violence. As I was explaining it, it also occurred to me that I think my recent journey to try and unlock my id and learn to assert myself properly played a role.
As I slowly integrate my missing id into my psyche, I am bound to go too far with anger once or twice because my usual way of controlling my temper, namely utter annihilation of emotion, is hopefully going to stop working.
I mentioned how I demand iron self control of myself and how I thought that wasn’t healthy and people need to let go now and then.
I think that, being a product of Western civilization, he misinterpreted that as my saying :I should be able to take my rage out at people whenever I feel like it now”, which of course is a million miles from the truth.
What I was saying is that any healthy psyche needs some time where the grasp of the ego and superego is relaxed and you can just be yourself, au naturel.
With my disconnected id, I never get that. There is never a time where I can let my metaphorical hair down. I never get a chance to totally relax.
My inner child never gets to go outside and play with the other kids.
And that is a serious problem. No wonder I am so damned miserable. I never get to just be me, the person I am outside all the rules and strictures I impose upon myself.
Gonna work on that. Somehow.
I dunno, it’s a very hard thing to grapple with. Deep within my psyche is the belief, borne of a difficult childhood, that all these strictures keep me safe. And that to open that door even a teeny tiny bit would lead to total anarchy, chaos, and doom.
Doom, I tell ya!
Of course, that’s total madness. Logically, I could probably get rid of like 90 percent of the fascist inner laws I live by and not only survive it but be way better off.
So sure, it’s crazy. So am I. That is the hand I have been dealt by life. I have irrational, delusional beliefs. All the rationality and clarity in the world won’t make them go away.
I can’t out-think them. I know they are irrational and delusional.
I can only out-feel them by digging deep to find the unprocessed emotions that underlie them and do my best to release them by feeling them.
If I felt safe and secure, my inner fascist regime would collapse.
And dawn could finally come to my gloomy little realm.
More after the break
Trapped in amber
I’ve been feeling rather…. stuck lately.
Like I am powerless to change anything. Like I have no agency. Like no matter what I intend to do, want to do, or hope to do, my life will stay exactly the same.
Blood sugar is still sky high. I assume. I haven’t been able to get a reading lately, but it stands to reason.
Why it can’t reason sitting down I’ll never know.
I have all the tools I need to get my blood sugar under control. Well, all except the actual focus, will, and determination it takes to actually do it.
The bullshit with my glucometer has really taken the wind out of my sails, and they never had much wind to start with. It doesn’t take much to discourage a depressive and the fact that half the timeI just get errors instead of results is more than enough to put the activity back behind the same wall of impotence that keeps me from doing all the other things I “should” and “could”.do.
So I guess I’ll just die.
I see the freight train coming but I just can’t get my shit together enough to get out of the way. And afterward, people will be saying, “I don’t understand. Why didn’t he just get out of the way? Wasn’t impending death motivation enough?”.
Hell no. Not when there’s a part of you that wants to die, or at the very least, that wants to have all the decisions taken away from you so you don’t have to face life any more.
I cannot choose
And so I lose
I cannot even choose to lose
The weird pains in my legs and feet are getting worse. Guess I won’t have them much longer. I will miss them when they are gone.
I’ll probably want to kick myself for not doing everything I could to keep them, but that’s kind of hard to do without feet.
At least I’ll lose weight.
I feel surrounded.
Like everywhere I look, I see danger, and there is no safe or sane course.
I feel like with every move I make, the ropes that bind me twist tighter and cut off more of my circulation. I am slowly being crushed to death and I can’t escape.
In short, I am really fucking depressed.
And I really wish I could just give up already. Go to some strong caring authority and tell them I couldn’t make it on the outside and have them put me somewhere where I can’t hurt myself and they take care of my health for me and all I have to do is do what I am told and everything will be okay.
Because I sure as hell don’t feel like I am making it. I feel like I am drowning under a tidal wave of my own incompetence and it’s anyone’s guess whether I will escape before I run out of air or just die and am forgotten at the bottom of the sea.
And now I am going to go hide in sleep a while.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.