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balance (2): wtf

Sunday, January 9, 2011

wtf

i never hated myself until a few years ago. always my problems in life were due to someone else (my betrayal-happy parents, whoremongering exes, etc.), and i never internalized things, being at heart an optimist who knew i had inadvertently drawn a bad lot in my early life.

then thailand happened (i suppose this is an extension of the last cathartic post). being infatuated by and thus inextricably immersed in a culture that was diametrically opposed to my own was like walking around with a scolding mirror permanently affixed to my forehead in front of my face... so i could constantly see the reflection of my own ugliness- the neurosis, the inability to fit in to normal society, my stupid penchant for believing the lies of people who wanted to divest me of everything i am worth, and lying myself bare to their abuse. my numerous patterns of ridiculous mistakes.

so a few years ago i started having violent flashes- quick daydreams of vicious torture of myself. my flailing at my wrists with slick razor blades in white-eyed rage. my choking myself with clenched fists in blind shrieking fury. my shrugging myself nonchalantly off the edge of a skyscraper. i couldn't escape myself and i wanted me dead.

a few in-depth google searches revealed some fascinating websites on the topic of self murder. from detailed instructions on how to concoct a fatal brew from household chemicals, to an elaborate plan for euthanasia of the elderly by a plastic mask that sucks helium from a tank into grateful lungs, the resources i needed for my planned demise were quite prevalent and usable.

but even in those lonely, anguished depths of dark days (last year) i could not bring myself to give up on life. as much as i despised myself, i couldn't refuse what adventures were sure to be on tap in future. and besides, i am a wuss. i have panic attacks centered around not being able to draw breath, and a petulant intolerance of discomfort. and voluntarily robbing myself of oxygen/life is quite laughable in fact, and really not an option.

and the thing is, death will come for us all, all too soon. and speeding it along is just insanity.

so times like now, when i feel like i just got jipped in every way, when i feel as though if i did do the deed, no one would even notice until my body swelled and burst and leaked sickly sweet smells from the neglected heat of my room, when i feel like i have melted disconsolately into the gravel underneath me and can't seem to consciously re-combine my atoms into a solid, standing, confident state, i realize it is just a passing phase of weakness, and tomorrow will be inevitably be better. and i am trying to work through that nasty hatred of myself which really is startling considering what a good girl i am, and realize that no one is ever perfect and my brain chemistry is a likely culprit. and accept that moving onwards and upwards while i have the chance, the gift, is the only way.

here's hoping tomorrow is another day.

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