When I was still living back home in Summerside, Prince Edward Island in the 1990’s, there was a news story about an eccentric couple who had somehow managed to very illegally acquired a mating pair of leopards which they raised on their farm.
Well that’s super against the law, so when the authorities found out, they arrested the couple and confiscated the kittycats.
Said kitties were then coaxed into a trailer and transported to a wildlife refuge in southern Nova Scotia. The door to the trailer was opened and then the two were left alone to get used to their new life.
The female of the pair immediately exited the trailer and started exploring her new environment, but the male did not.
Instead, he stayed in the trailer, face turned to a back corner, and ignored the world.
I am that cat.
It came up during my Therapy Thursday session today. I was talking about how I have spent so much of my life on a strictly minimum contact with reality diet.
Meaning like that poor leopard, I have been strenuously ignoring most of reality ever since I was raped as a child.
Instead, I retreated into the world within my mind and that special adjunct of my imagination known as “media”.
Consuming media was the best way to stimulate and feed my mind and my imagination with the absolute minimum possible contact with reality.
Whether I was reading a book, watching TV, or playing a video game, the nasty old real world was pushed far away and I didn’t have to face or cope with anything.
And that was fine when I had school to provide the structure and purpose and direction to my life. I could spend the rest of the time entertaining myself and no real harm was done, at least not at the time.
But then I got deschooled, And fell apart. Then barely managed to pull myself back together, but the only thing I knew how to do was entertain myself.
And I was far too fragile to complete the transition to adulthood on my own.
So I fell into the media consumption lifestyle I still live today, 25 years later. It keeps me alive but does not contain nearly enough nutrients for me to thrive. For a very long time, I have been too weak to do much to help myself. I spent a lot of time without even a therapist. My avoidant personality disorder made me too shy to even ask for one, and thus went largely untreated.
Meds can help with the symptoms, but they can’t cure the disease.
And like I have said dozens of times before in one form or another, the ultimate disease is one that prevents its own treatment.
My AVPD did a very good job of that for a long time.
But I am on the right path now. I am going to cure my Wound, get my rightful strength and power back, and make myself known to the world.
A great reckoning is coming, and after it is done, I will be the only one left.
More after the break.
And we’re back
Well, here I am again, typing at you wonderful people.
And I mean it. You really are wonderful people. Reading this blog every day is the nicest thing you can do for me on a personal level and it means the world to me that there are people willing to read my 1K+ words every day and listen to my voice.
I know that in a TL;DR world, reading 1000 words of block text with no pictures or anything else to break up the wall of verbiage is a very big ask.
People do not like reading large chunks of text on screens. It’s draining, and there is always that maddening FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) demon cracking the whip and saying “What are you missing because you’re STUCK doing THIS??”
So know that I get it. Reading all this stuff is not easy. Especially when you add in the fact that a lot of what I write is extremely personal, dark, depressing, and unfun.
So again…. thank you all for reading me. It means more than I can say to me.
Which is kind of ironic.
The cycle is quickening
Told my therapist, Doctor Costin, about how I have been cycling from positive to negative, mood wise, today.
Lately I seem to go from feeling somewhat perky and good – No, I’m not happy yet, but I’m way less sad – to feeling depressed and angry and violently nihilistic.
Fuck everything and everybody ever. Fuck it ALL. And fuck YOU.
Ya know, that kind of thing. Call it punk mode.
These have always been the opposite poles of my mood cycle, but the cycle is going a lot faster lately. What used to take a month takes around three days now.
And I am quite happy about that. Like I have been saying, I accept that it’s going to take some extremely energetic phenomenon to break me out of this self-sealing cage of mine, and that means going through some very unpleasant shit as I build up the raw primal id energy to shatter the cage my delusional “reason” has built and find the true strength to face the world without fear or shame.
No more cowering. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I am an amazing person with near magical level intelligence and enormous amounts of talent and creativity as well as being a genuinely nice person.
So what if I am somewhat feeble and pathetic? People have overcome far worse and gone on to greatness.
Besides, that weakness is not the real me. The real me is mighty and proud. The weakness is just an old wound overdue for a bandage change.
Some day soon, that Wound will be gone, and I will rise.
Is it just me, or do I end these things in manic mode a lot?
All part of learning to pump up my own mood, I guess.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.