Yesterday I thought I was being sooo clever. And needless to say, I wasn't. I put up a link to a seriously high-quality mental health blog, with on-the-edge writing, sharp politicizing, and a wealth of resources for the reader. But I've had to take the link down again because the author in question has checked out this stinking heap of shit, and it's left me feeling so utterly ashamed of myself and my feeble little efforts.
I feel so sorry for her for having to suffer this and me. She was here for less than 5 seconds, but that's 5 seconds too many. If you had 5 seconds in the life of someone you admired and respected, what would you fill those 5 seconds with? I filled them with shit. This woman has been abused as a kid, and she has to suffer the ineptitude of some ginger-haired spazzy prick who doesn't how to live. IDIOT. (*smashes fist against head*)
How DARE I think I can punch above my weight like that! I've been blogging for 5 minutes and already I think I know it all. Well listen, sonny boy, you know FUCK ALL. These people have READ BOOKS. ARTICLES. JOURNALS. MANIFESTOS. OTHER PEOPLE'S BLOGS. And I think I can get by on a whim and a prayer!
These people have been abused and/or institutionalized, for fuck's sake. Now these are just about the worst possible life experiences that I can think of, but at least they are experiences and as such are worth a hell of a lot more than spazzy ineptitude. Because I don't have a life, I'm paying insufficient respect to the knowledge and experiences accumulated by others in their lives. Now this isn't deliberate, but it's there and I recognise that it's there. And if this woman or one of her quality-blogging, abuse-surviving readers has had to endure reading about my pathetic attempts to deal with a flood in the cellar, then I deserve to die. It is as simple and as straightforward as that. Child abuse = bad. Incompetence = fucking stupid. End of.
It's the same story with more commercially-oriented blogs I do elsewhere. Because I think like such a perennial outsider, I can never quite grasp the kind of "industry insiderism" that these blogs seem to thrive on. And consequently I don't make any money. Clever, huh?
Right, I'm going to crawl into a hole, take lots of books with me, and DO SOME FUCKING RESEARCH . I'll come back when I have something to say that's actually worth saying. And I'm sorry for having to take a link down that would be a great resource to my readers, but I'd just beat myself up everytime I see it there.
Showing posts with label delusion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label delusion. Show all posts
Tuesday, 15 May 2007
Thursday, 12 April 2007
Testing The Resolve
Oooo I'm being tested tonight! I was doing so well, and acheived and maintained a level of stability over the past 2 weeks that I've hitherto been unaccustomed to. But tonight I let it all seep through, and boy am I paying the price!
Trouble is, whenever I've faced a crisis, it was always what I took refuge in. ("It" has a name, but it's becoming a name that dare not speak it's name) But now, with that refuge having been exposed by reality, I am left floundering and disoriented. I'm sure it's why I suffer so much with claustrophobia, because I always had it as an "escape", and that escape is no more. I have to face the fact that, ultimately, there is no escape.
It's not like there's a major crisis tonight, but it's enough of a crisis to make me want to escape. There's a new guy moved in downstairs and he's brought his girlfriend with him, and I can sense the possibility for trouble. I met him for the first time the other night, while he was in the process of hiding his weed because he thought I looked like a snitch. (If that was the first impression i gave him then I've failed the test already). Apparently he's an ex-criminal, been inside but going straight. But it's his girlfriend that worries me. She's a rabid racist based on bad experiences she's had with black guys in some of the less salubrious parts of town. I'm not black, but I'm worried anyway because clearly she has serious issues, and I just KNOW she's gonna take one look at me and freak out. She'll think I'm a creep, because women like that always do. And I'm scared. I'm scared of scaring women, I'm scared of being beaten up, and I'm scared of losing my home for something that isn't my fault. But most importantly, I'm scared of the effect it will have on my state of mind. Because, remember, the thing that I would always take refuge in is not an option anymore. It is not the promised land I always thought it was. It is a delusion and a symptom of a personality disorder, and I know that now.
So I'm trying to gather myself, regain my composure, and go through all the little rituals that have kept me stable for the past couple of weeks. I was going to say "wish me luck", but it is not a question of luck. It is a question simply of doing what needs to be done. And now that I know what needs to be done, I really can't say that I have any excuses.
Trouble is, whenever I've faced a crisis, it was always what I took refuge in. ("It" has a name, but it's becoming a name that dare not speak it's name) But now, with that refuge having been exposed by reality, I am left floundering and disoriented. I'm sure it's why I suffer so much with claustrophobia, because I always had it as an "escape", and that escape is no more. I have to face the fact that, ultimately, there is no escape.
It's not like there's a major crisis tonight, but it's enough of a crisis to make me want to escape. There's a new guy moved in downstairs and he's brought his girlfriend with him, and I can sense the possibility for trouble. I met him for the first time the other night, while he was in the process of hiding his weed because he thought I looked like a snitch. (If that was the first impression i gave him then I've failed the test already). Apparently he's an ex-criminal, been inside but going straight. But it's his girlfriend that worries me. She's a rabid racist based on bad experiences she's had with black guys in some of the less salubrious parts of town. I'm not black, but I'm worried anyway because clearly she has serious issues, and I just KNOW she's gonna take one look at me and freak out. She'll think I'm a creep, because women like that always do. And I'm scared. I'm scared of scaring women, I'm scared of being beaten up, and I'm scared of losing my home for something that isn't my fault. But most importantly, I'm scared of the effect it will have on my state of mind. Because, remember, the thing that I would always take refuge in is not an option anymore. It is not the promised land I always thought it was. It is a delusion and a symptom of a personality disorder, and I know that now.
So I'm trying to gather myself, regain my composure, and go through all the little rituals that have kept me stable for the past couple of weeks. I was going to say "wish me luck", but it is not a question of luck. It is a question simply of doing what needs to be done. And now that I know what needs to be done, I really can't say that I have any excuses.
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