This is a precursor to my dream diary, in which I will ramble (in no order whatsoever) about some of the important elements of “me” at the current time. Perhaps these things are important to the dreams themselves, or vice versa. I’m sure I will be writing more in detail about all of these feelings as time goes on, since my mood is very temperamental. I simply don’t feel like going into much detail right now.
I am also resolving, as I wrote in the post titled “Square 1”, not to censor my thoughts and feelings from here on, as I have no interest in anyone or anything’s thoughts on this page, apart from my own.
Should there be any radical changes in the future, I imagine those will be recorded as necessary.
I was born in 1992. I am a Libra. I am a male. My favorite colors are purple and black. I love all forms of music, but primarily listen to heavy metal. Rap and hip-hop post-2010 is generally quite bad in my estimation, but there are exceptions in every genre. I play the piano and the electric guitar reasonably well. I am terrified of spiders when I am alone.
I have insomnia. Uncontrollable, grotesque images appear in the dark as I am about to go to sleep. This usually manifests itself as a tall, thin woman with sunken eyes and stringy black hair who will lurch around my room groaning. I try to counter this by sleeping with a small light on, which helps slightly.
For the past 3 years I have been entirely directionless. I moved out of my parents’ house into an apartment about 20 miles north of where they live, and was doing things on my own. Feeding myself. Going to work myself. Paying bills. Learning about many adult things such as taxes, and drinking, and losing friends, but also things like responsibility, loneliness, and nihilism. Especially loneliness and nihilism. But make no mistake, future me, I was lonely and nihilistic before, no doubt about it. My break-up with my fiancée which resulted in her desire that I never speak with her again, combined with the fact that I had a daughter who I now pretend doesn’t exist has changed my life and my psyche forever. But now that I can put a name to my shortcomings and understand them from a more “mature” point of view, I suppose I feel like it may have made things worse.
Bipolar Disorder, psychosis, philosophy
I was officially diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder Type II and “mild psychosis” in 2012. I remind myself of this probably a couple of times a week. It helps to keep me sane thinking that I’m not sane relative to some other people. Because otherwise, I simply don’t know how I could come to terms with my feelings and actions. Today I’ve felt relatively good. I haven’t left the apartment, but I’ve been studying Calculus in preparation for my college courses next year (I am fervently hopeful that finishing my college degree will put me on a better life track) and I feel I am accomplishing something in doing so. Tomorrow I may very well find no motivation to do anything, and this is a horrifying reality to have to live in. My friends ask me if I want to hang out sometimes on the weekends, and I always have to say, “I’ll let you know the day of.” Because it’s true. Maybe I can just barely get out of bed that day. Maybe I’ll actually be excited. Who knows? The people and objects in my life don’t exist on a continuum. I don’t think they do for anyone, but for me it seems like they can become entirely different one day to the next. I really hate it. It’s so frustrating.
However, I can say that my ability to deal with my disorder is much better now than it was 3 years ago, despite (or perhaps partially because of) the fact that I no longer take medication. A lot of this is because I found good philosophy. Carl Jung, Freud, Rogers, and the modern-day Jordan Peterson have been extremely crucial to me recently, in particular. Finding a set of philosophies that seem to match with my perception of the world has been invaluable, though also challenging.
Jung’s idea of incorporating the “Shadow”, for example, and Peterson’s harsh criticisms of nihilism are difficult for me to hear, because I know these ideas are good ideas, but I have trouble understanding how to incorporate them into my own life. I have some rather unfortunate, unsolved vices, that I am self-conscious about, and that make this difficult.
Anger, difficulty developing relationships with others, laziness, misogyny, homophobia (men only), difficulty trusting anyone (other than my mother), nihilism, constant tiredness.
It would be appropriate, I think, to also mention my virtues, so I will do this as well.
Patient, self-aware, highly empathetic, good at listening to others, physically healthy, studious (when I set goals for myself)
You wouldn’t know me, there are two distinct “me’s”, and countless others
I’m incredibly good at separating my “crazy” personality from my public one. I have a few good friends who I have known for a long time, and among the people I meet in everyday life, I am well-liked. I cannot establish lasting relationships, however, because I find this to be tiring and not worth my time, so I have not made another true “friend” for years now.
While I often find myself pleased with the fact that I can be considered normal and desirable to be around in the real world, while simultaneously recording my dark secrets online as I am now, I also recognize that this must be unhealthy. I’m not honest, in the sense that my body and consciousness are not in sync, and it’s not a good way to live in the world. I’m not properly incorporating my Shadow into my being.
I recognize that my writing about these things in the first place and my self-awareness are a great boon to my psyche, however. I’m also fully aware that my ability to “break” and do something very unfortunate is not a trivial matter. I thank my self-awareness and my mother for preventing any crime more terrible than a stolen bottle of ketchup from Safeway thus far, and I believe my newfound desire to return to college and make something of myself is a step further in the right direction.
I think about pornography quite a bit, and it has caused my psyche to change fairly drastically. These days, I put forth a concerted effort to focus my time on things that I feel will improve myself, such as studying, music, writing, etc. However, sexual desire and lustful thoughts will inevitably invade my mind the moment I let my guard down.
It’s not that I feel shame in the fact that I indulge in pornography. In fact, I’m very upfront about it with friends, as I don’t see it as anything unusual. However, it does sometimes take up a significant portion of time and it has also changed my sexuality in what I consider to be a negative way.
I feel small pangs of disgust when I view any depiction of a male online. I feel even more disgusted when I realize I’m feeling this way, and it causes me to feel depressed. I have no issues outside of the digital domain, which I find incredibly bizarre. In fact, I tend to get along better with men than with women in general. I am not offended or made uncomfortable by homosexual men in the real world either, though I cannot bring myself to be friends with them. But even just typing these words immediately sets off a trigger in me. I really can’t explain it. All I want to see online are women, especially women with other women, and when I imagine myself in a relationship it is typically as a woman with another woman.
I’m not transsexual. In fact, I quite dislike transsexuals, but I have rational reasons for this that aren’t triggered by disgust or discomfort. I simply find the sight of men online uncomfortable. I want to be a male in a relationship with a female, but the only females I find myself attracted to are lesbians. I sometimes wish the entire world would consist of lesbians. It’s a completely irrational thought, something I am self-aware of, but I have this thought nonetheless.
When did I become so misogynistic? I have been asking myself this a lot recently. Only 3 years ago, I wouldn’t have had any of these thoughts.
Women are all out to get you. They want your material possessions. They want to control your life and your being.
Women are shallow, incapable of deep philosophical thought, motivated only by biological urges.
Women have no real value to you apart from sexual gratification.
I want badly to have a real relationship with a woman, but it is impossible to connect with them. I can’t trust them. “Strong” women arouse me, not because they are strong, but because the thought of tearing them down and using them arouses me.
Judging from reactions in other areas online, perhaps these thoughts would be disturbing to many people. I often find myself wondering if others share the same opinion, but are simply too afraid to admit it. Well, I suppose if you were trying to make yourself attractive to women, you wouldn’t want to be terribly upfront about such thoughts.
One of two girls will sometimes come to mind when I have these thoughts. I respect these girls and admire them quite a lot, though neither are in my life anymore. The first is a girl from my highschool years, who I’ll call “R”. R was intelligent, humble, cute. She was the type of girl who would actually show her frustration when she got upset, but would then quickly become red in the face, mutter something incomprehensible and set to task solving whatever problem had frustrated her. We “dated”, so to speak, over Spring break. By dated, I mean she said she wanted to be my girlfriend, and I said I wanted to be her boyfriend, but we never actually saw each other, and sort of drifted apart wordlessly. I was a freshman at the time, straight out of home school, so I really had no idea what I was doing. I often wonder how different my life would be if she had been a part of it this whole time.
The second girl is “M”, my freshman year of college. She was not really a love interest, but a true friend. She said what she meant, without being a bitch about it; it just came out naturally, like it would with any honest person. She was anorexic and suffered from General Anxiety Disorder, and we related to each other on that deeper level thanks to our shared mental suffering, though we rarely talked about it in normal conversation. M was very popular at school, a sorority girl and all that, so I’m grateful that she spent so much of her time with me and I value the friendship we had before I stupidly dropped out of college.
What is it about these girls I admired? I think it was a combination of being able to relate and their meekness that was so attractive. While the thought of a “strong” woman inspires lustful, resentful thoughts in me, the thought of a meek, feminine woman triggers a part of me that wants to protect her. I respect the idea of a woman like that, though in my current state of mind, I can’t see myself being with any woman at all. I can’t stand them, with their fake smiles, always going along with the popular opinion without any beliefs of their own, chasing after material gain wherever they can. I can’t say I’ve ever met a truly selfless woman, though the opposite can certainly be said of many men who suffer unreasonably at their hands.
In any case, these thoughts are frustrating. I try to convince myself they’re irrational, but I’m unable to do so. This misogyny is a huge issue I want to overcome, if only for my own potential happiness.
I’m quite tired at the moment and unsure what else to write, though I know there is more. I wonder how this post will appear to me a few years from now.
I’m going to take a break to actually cook something (my diet typically consists of precooked frozen meals) and then I will probably type up the first dream I wrote in my journal.