It is nice to have felt more than a hollow shell today. More like myself, less weak and susceptible to lending my body to the hateful whims, the baseless pride, the mindless indulgence of this poisoned, sadistic ego I have yet to fully understand and control.
I wonder if I’ll ever stop being so fundamentally selfish. I know that I cannot invalidate the effort, time, and support it took to overcome the angsty, reckless, arrogant teenager who failed to avoid the unprecedented trauma that spawned from a codependent and abusive relationship that should have ended way before it finally died. But there is still so much I need to work on. I realize the nihilistic beliefs guiding my actions were further justified by this notion I’ve harbored since childhood that I lack a moral compass. However, due to the outrageous luck I have been and continue to be blessed by, the people I emulated and learned from in order to assume my assigned role as a member living in a society were my wonderful parents. Their values were the ones that shaped my ethical framework; I always knew they were good people and I wanted to be a good person, too. Kindness, generosity, honesty, hard work, integrity, empathy, affection, positivity…. I enjoyed being someone who could be all of these things and I valued these traits in others, but only because I admired them and learned to value them first in and through my parents.
Life experience has changed me. Bad relationship, plus drugs, plus isolation, plus my descent into the depths of a nihilistic existence where morality is just another story in human mythology and any means are justified. Nothing has inherent meaning, therefore following my any and every whim as a modus operandi was pretty much justified in my mind. Moreover, this way of thinking led to an enrichment of my life through exposure and interactions with many extraordinary people, places, situations, and perspectives. But, as the aforementioned relationship got worse, my life experience and my 18-year old mindset were in poor shape to handle trying to take care of a drug addict adamant about getting treatment while dealing with my own precipitating depression and my gradually increasing substance abuse. All while trying to do more than well enough academically to achieve my goal of pursuing a PhD in Neuroscience. I did get better after I graduated because I took a gap year, started taking meds, and went to intensive therapy. Although I never physically injured anybody (but I have certainly threatened people to make them bleed and meant it), I have been cruel, deceitful, manipulative, and potently toxic. But never to the extent I’ve behaved in the past months which led to some very angry, honestly misinformed and half-exaggerated public broadcasts relaying the account of my reprehensible and pathetic crimes against someone who, erm, has done a fair share of embarassing and vile acts against more than one person.
Last year I suffered a regression due to lack proper self-care, treatment, and wallowing too profoundly during the miserable lows. I felt too weak or dissociated to prevent those insane, sadistic urges that seek to exalt my ego and satisfy its craving for power and influence or pain over those who can’t retaliate nor even leave a mark, no matter what they say or do because they don’t really get it (and my respect for them usually is non-existent). In any case, when I was confronted by the latest victim of my departure from civil sanity, it was actually gratifying. The beast inside me kinda wishes the suffering lasted until some change occured and granted the poor creature a decent personality (in my unreliable opinion, this person is scum, has hurt and lied to enough people I care about to deserve whatever ill plagues their existence, ad infinitum).
Of course: I truly hate this about myself. And I have suffered deeply personal consequences far worse than my previous victim could ever have devised (that tamagotchi got flushed down the toilet and I optimistically hope never to see it again).
Would I take all of the bad shit I did back? Yes. But why did it happen in the first place? With no control over the impulses and emotions that compelled this behavior towards someone whom I hold in such little esteem, my untethered mind could easily justify doing whatever I wanted as an act of retribution to this person for having betrayed genuine people and choosing hipocrisy and lying over being honest and decent. Few things make my blood boil and my dislike turn offensive than someone who lies so much for no reason. Although, to be fair, it’s not like you have nurtured a brain that’s likely to be of much use so it makes sense that a lot of lies and delusions are needed for you to fill the gaps. And of course you are aware that the way you’ve abused drugs might have likely led to the exacerbation of your mental illness. It’s really hard to tell whether you ever really meant to make an effort for your mental health or not (ask people who are not your “friends”). Thank goodness for family and their resources!
Heh, I’ve no excuse. Despite my mental illness, condescending to such irrational behavior is a clear rock bottom. And the personal consequences I’m currently dealing with are more than enough to have snapped me out. I want to kill and bury my ego along with the poison I’ve been saving since 5 years ago for who knows what. It’s been hard and it is hard and it may be hard for a long time. But for the first time since before I was 16 I am starting to feel more like myself again. More of light. I hope this means with patience and time and effort I’ll be fully exorcised of this demon I have for an ego.
PS: So, I never mocked your mental illness. After all, thats not what defines you, remember? My pity is all for the material the illness has to deal with.