This is new content from the Who I Want to Be effort:
It has been a long week. By Wednesday, I did not think I would make it through. On Thursday morning, a distinct feeling welled up in my heart, one that told me that I wished more than anything to run away and hide in a cave and die quickly. I needed to be alone because people were bringing me to the slaughter fest. Of course this is my perception, deepened by my depression and incessant and obsessive sensitivity. (I told my wife that I am no more mature than a first-grader when it comes to sensitivity because I continue to feel the same feeling when people hurt me now as I did when I was in first grade. I have gained no skin from my progression through life.) The only one who seemed to be okay with who I am was my sponsor and best friend. Today, my wife told me she thought that it was odd that he stuck by me. The implication is that good friends are loyal only to a point, but then they should ditch you. Humans all over the place are ditching other humans and other humans are making other humans ditch humans and it is solid badness wherever I look.
I won’t confess here. I much prefer to confess in my poems. Confession is good for the soul, but my soul needs reinforcement more than anything. On Friday, my father joined the crowd of crucifiers but he assured me that he was trying to help me. On Friday night, I was reading some articles on the wonderful blog, Storied Mind, particularly the The Longing to Leave series, and I believe I discovered that the way I am unable to handle my depression does make me at fault and does make me deserving of crucifixion. To suddenly realize that my world view is all wrong and that I am unfit to maintain a human relationship creates such an extreme dissonance so as to forge that longing for the cave in solitude and for the death where I do not have to pull the trigger but it happens quickly. (I do not believe I have the moral standing to end my passage here, which is good or bad depending on how you look at it, but at least I am allowed to continue to fail over and over. This chaos is what inspires me to create, to write, to observe strange things in the world, and I do sometimes appreciate that benefit.)
Why is this breaking down the idealism? I realize my world view and the things I admire as good have nothing to do with reality. When a good chunk of people tell me I am not being good, especially the ones whom I had gently placed on my ideal world list, I crash into the reality that I am unable to command. I encounter the world that is impossible for me but is so easy for most of the rest of humanity.
I am lucky to be able to see one of my favorite people, B2, on Monday morning, and we will be pursuing this carefully. I will ask how I can be better in the hollowness of the world and avoid the fate of Anna Karenina. (I continue to read the Tolstoy for information on my character defects. I did not remember this but Tolstoy exposes so much of human activity as tragically false, it is difficult to find my faults alone, and is difficult to not identify with all of the faults except the one associated with not caring. I do care.) If I can crack into the real part of the world and be satisfied with my efforts in the real world, maybe I have a chance, but I need lots of instruction on how to be satisfied with my efforts.
It seems ironic that B2 has been so effective at making me realize that every aspect of every problem is not my fault or is not due completely to my defectiveness. She reflected a couple weeks ago that when I started with her in March, every sour event, and every problem in every relationship was my fault. She has perceived that now I am able to see that other people are not always good in their actions and their actions may cause some of the bad things that happen. Even if we say everyone is doing his best, this does not mean that I am at fault for everything because I am doing my best almost all of the time. B2 has shown me that I might have some qualities that other people admire. Acquiring this realization has been a difficult struggle for me, but it is required for my recovery. I need to understand that there are good parts of Carl. It seems as I sit here right now, this past week has destroyed all of that work with B2 over the last eight months. I need to ask B2 if I can plunge into this real world stuff, acknowledge the harsh criticism of all of those who are close to me and continue to feel okay about myself. It does not seem possible, but B2 has wonderful strength, and that is what I need to find on Monday. I feel confident now, but that is a reflection of B2 and not me.
stillfugue 