It’s just not fair.
Why can’t I unleash my mighty talents upon the world and use them to make a name for myself as well as a living? I have all this well honed talent chomping at the bit to get out there and show the world just what a shiny sparking wonder I am.
I can feel the powerful forces inside me. I know I have the potential for greatness. I know I could be so much larger than life, especially my current sad life.
I could be the sort of person that really makes a difference. And I would do it through the power of my words. I would be a public intellectual extraordinaire, and would shape how people think for generations to come like the true visionary I am.
The world needs my truths.
And why can’t I find love? I deserve a boyfriend/husband as much as anyone else. And I could be so very very good for the right man.
I could be loving and affectionate and sympathetic and understanding. I could listen to his day with genuine interest and wait on him hand and foot not out of submission but out of devotion. I would want to make him happy as he can be. I could be his soft landing after a hard day and his safe space in a hostile world.
I could make the right man very, very happy. And in turn, he would just need to be strong enough to make me feel safe and secure, and smart enough to value me for the wonder that I am.
And why can’t I move in a larger social world? I have nothing to be ashamed of. And I’m a hilarious and adorable type dude whom people love when they get to know me. Add to that the fact that I am a fascinating conversationalist with many unique and well developed opinions and I could be an asset to any kind of social gathering.
Plus, I am a genuinely nice person!
In other words, I have everything I need in order to make my dreams come true by stepping out onto the world’s stage and showing them what I got.
I have so much magic in me just waiting to be brought to life.
All that stands between me and my dreams is that goddamned Wound of mine. Just one lousy psychological injury from my ancient history is holding me back and keeping me from evolving to my next, far healthier form.
Well this too can be overcome. I will grow too large and strong for these brittle chains to bind me. I will shatter my shackles and crush my confines and destroy this cell of mine so thoroughly that retreat is no longer even a concept.
I can feel it coming. My transcendent transformation. My holy evolution. Soon, and at long last, I will move on to the next phase of my life and leave this cozy shell of mine behind for good.
Watch out world, because I’m coming out.
More after the break.
I fucked up
So it turns out I fucked up in a way that seems easy to avoid in retrospect.
Had my appointment with Doctor Vaezi, my ophthalmologist, today. The purpose of the visit was to prepare for the operation on my right eye scheduled for the 31st.
While I was there with the Doctor, I asked a question I knew was quite fateful : was I supposed to be using my eye drops this whole time?
Because I quite stupidly stopped after about a week.
Turns out, yup, I was supposed to be using them for six weeks. If someone told me that at some point (and they probably did), I totally forgot it.
This explains why the eye that was operated on is still pretty blurry. It’s because it’s still swollen from the operation. The drops were supposed to fix that.
Well I can only resume taking them now and hope I haven’t fucked up the Doctor’s good work. He did not seem to think I had, and said that if the drops don’t fix the swelling, he can fix it with an injection like the one he did in my last visit.
So I probably didn’t fuck myself up too bad. Which is a relief.
Of course, I still hate myself.
Can’t be helped. Finding out my suspicions of my own stupidity were well founded unleashed the expected maelstrom of self-loathing and internalized rage.
How could I be so stupid, it’s obviously the wrong thing to do in retrospect, I am such an idiot, I am not competent to care for myself, no wonder I am dying, and so forth and so on ad nauseum.
I have buckets of that shit sloshing around in head right now and there is nothing I can do about that except try not to fight it because fighting emotions is largely futile and the best way to get rid of them is to let them run their course.
But I am not listening to all that nonsense. Nothing really has changed. Yes, I am chagrined to know that I bobbled another play but I am not surprised and refuse to let the self hate penetrate my ego fortress.
Because the truth is that I am a very sick man. I do my best to look after myself as best as I can, but my illnesses make that very difficult and that means I don’t do that good a job of being my own caretaker.
Maybe things would be different if I was not so numb to my id and the motivational machinery it is attached to.
On paper, you would think the desire to save my own life and not end up intubated would be motivating enough.
But it ain’t. I’m busted up inside and part of me wants to die. I am a supernatural scientist who is more than passing strange and not even of this Earth, and I do not function by the rules of nature.
So will I save myself? I have no idea.
I hope I do. Mostly.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.