Absolute0's Journal

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Cracked

So.. against my better judgment, I decided to start on of these things... The reasons for which, are many fold.

The most premier, most prolly, being that I need to write. I forgot how good it feels to put my fingers to the keyboard and splatter my head on the screen in the form of a rigid structure of flashing lights... Since I began posting here... nearly a month ago I think... I have been more stable than I have been in a long time... not well, but stable. I'll take what I can get.

In part... I have come to a point in my life where I have not other choice... so far as I can see, the ONLY option for my future (that does not involve very bad things) is writing. But.. I need to practice... its a long road to walk, before I will be ready to embark upon that journey.

In part... not all I have to write about is, at first glance, directly topical.

I have come to realize that, more so than isolation, internalization is damaging me.... I think. These thoughts in my head need to be written...

Though, be warn. The kind of $#%^ that rattles around in my head has been known to cause otherwise happy, stable, and optimistic people to fall into depression... Mother, tell your children not to look my way. Tell your children not to hear my words. What they mean, what they say. Mother? Can you keep them in the dark for life? Can you hide them from the waiting world...

I actually wrote this a few days ago, with the intent to delete it... maybe I still should.

Herin contains such light heated topics as, belief, non-belief, faith, suicide, philosophy, logic, the meaning of the life the universe and everything, death, numbers, a reason for hope, a reason not to hope, confusion, madness, anger, and the number 42.

---

Heh... I'm actually kind of nervous to post this. Well.. more than normal... Herein I discuss some big ideas, pretty much divulge my entire perspective of reality, and say some very... controversial things. Not to mention that the length is immense... And in honesty, I'm not quite so sure it is entirely relevant. I don't know. But all I know is that I need to say it. Not just internalize it. I cant get better if I hide it all away... though many won't bother due to its length or subject.

Like I said in one of my earlier posts.. I might be mentally ill. I might not be. I might just have a more accurate understanding than anyone I have ever met. Either way, these thoughts cause me great distress... and, being able to outline everything while I am as lucid as I ever am, is a great boon to me. And though the severity of the distress isn't covered... lets just say I sometimes worry about the safty of those around me...

And, without further babbling....

I want to start this off by saying; I don't consider intelligence a good thing, nor do I consider myself to be intelligent. I may be a little bright, but no more than average. No. What I am is obsessive. What I do, is think myself into corners where I feel safe and react violently to anybody that tries to drag me from my mental FEMA camp, and show it to me from the outside... A warning, this post is going to be a, in typical Absolute Zero fashion, a long winded tirade of pseudo-erudite half ass intellectualism, ego masturbation, self degradation, and semi-madness. But first... first you need to see where I am coming from.

I grew up Wiccan. My father began us on our(my sister and I) path at a very young age, as most very religious folk do with their children. Now, today, I am a die hard atheist... most would prolly consider me an anti-theist. I consider Wicca to be one of the most benign faiths on this planet, partly do to its founding tenant “Harm none, do as thou wilt.” which, admittedly, is a very good idea. I still follow that general guideline to this day.

The problem comes when you combine Wicca (or any faith for that matter) with a nut case...

In Wicca there are a great number of “paths”, not dissimilar to christian sects (Catholic, Protestant, Lutheran... Mormon if you have a good imagination). These paths are a lot like Christian Sects, and despite their active vitriol against Christianity, Wiccans share a great deal in common with them. * holds up umbrella for impending shitstorm if any Wiccans are reading *

Now, not all paths are taught the same things I was. So, this does not apply to all of them. But when I was a child, I was actively encourage to hallucinate (and have supernatural powers, but that won't be covered here). I'm not talking about imaginary friends. I'm not talking about a fun night tripping on LSD. Nor am I talking about some mystical spirit journey set to native American chants. I'm talking about being told that the world is full of spirits and entities that surround you constantly. Fairies, Ghosts, Demons (not in the modern sense of the word. Demons, in what I was taught, were most ambivalent to humanity) and other things.

I was actively encouraged to speak, listen to, and interact with these entities. Some of them were good nature friendly playful. Some helpful, some completely ambivalent, and some actively hostile... some even considered us a food source.

If you have ever seen the show 'Supernatural' you can kind of get an idea of what my life was like growing up. Now, we didn't have this 'warrior' training that Sam and Dean did. But, we were taught how to defend ourselves against these beings... though hostile ones weren't common. None the less, they did exist and I had to CONSTANTLY be on my guard... Ingrained into what I was taught as a child, was a heavy dose of paranoia. And we won't even get into my fathers adherence to conspiracy theories.

Now... we get to the meat of the problem, not only with Wicca but faith in general. If one is taught to believe things that are not true, then one will react to all things as if they are true.

This is a very brief list of the type of things I encountered as a child; A ghost of a little boy that died in a fire haunting a second hand shirt I owned. Dwarfs that lived in the bushes outside of the front door (interesting story with these guys). A hobgoblin that helped keep our house tidy. A “dark elf” that lived under our basement stairs (creepy mofo he was). Dragons... some of which I summoned with magick. Gods, specifically the manifestation of the dualistic divinities most Wiccans follow (Lady and Lord), and the goddess The Morrigan, who gave me a gift. Demons that became obsessed with me. Vampires. Trolls. Several unknown beings that assaulted me.. A giant wolf spirit that protected me. And worst of all, a Doppelganger who, at that time, stole my memories. A cabal of between eight and thirteen beings that started to assault people in their sleep.

Now... today I know that all of these were hallucinations. Figments of my imagination, and, despite having some questions about mass hallucination still, I know all of these things to be untrue. But when I was young... when I was young the were REAL. Real as me. Real as you. Real as gravity.

Now, I'm going to lay out two scenarios...

This first part applies to both scenarios, and are pretty much universal truths.

I: Some things are True.
II: Life is generally preferable to death.
III: Comfort and pleasure are generally preferable to suffering.
IV: You only need to be concerned with True things (things that actually exist).

1:There are True things that cannot be measured.
If True, then there is no way of differentiating between True but unmeasurable, and Untrue.
There for, to minimize ones suffering, one must accept all things as being True.

If the above is reality... then I am hand picked by an Alien diplomat to be an emissary here on earth... amongst many other things.

Now... so far as I have been able to find, paradox does not exist in the real world. Sure, there are a tonne of thought experiments that can produce it, but in the real world I have never been able to find an example of one. But with the above model it allows for, very easily, paradox to occur.

God is good. Even when he told that lady to crush her three children skulls with a brick. She shouldn't have been arrested and locked away, she was following God's will.

Scenario 2.

I: Some things are True.
II: Life is generally preferable to death.
III: Comfort and pleasure are generally preferable to suffering.
IV: You only need to be concerned with True things (things that actually exist).

1: Only things which are CAPABLE of being measured are True.
If True, then one has a way of differentiating between True and Untrue.
There for, to minimize ones suffering, one must only accept True things as being true.

Now, inherently, a being with a perspective, emotions, and individual thoughts is incapable of seeing Reality objectively. This is why we go ask others opinions. If we can get every being to verify what we saw (experience), we can determine what is True and what is Untrue... sound familiar.. its called the Scientific Method.

Now, admittedly, there are some problems with the above Objective Reality.

Its VERY easy to say something like... “If reality is Objective and suffering exists, then to minimize suffering everyone should self annihilate.” But the problem with this statement is that it doesn't take in to account the question “What if my preference for life is not outweighed by my aversion to suffering?”
We could take an anti-natalist view and ask “If life has suffering, should we not prevent new births of beings that could suffer.” to this, I say yes... BUT ONLY IF you can guarantee that the new being will suffer more than feels pleasure, comfort, joy ect ect.

But there is a caveat to this. Though Objective Reality exists, we are beings who experience EVERYTHING subjectively. There for we cannot make a statement about Objective Reality. Oh, don't get me wrong, we are capable of measuring it, and making statements about that reality, but even those measurements are subjective... But this is why we don't take just one persons measurements.

You can think of it like the color spectrum. Where white is reality, every person is another color. We need ALL of them to make white.

Now, you could say, that even that won't be Objective Reality. I disagree.

So far as I understand it, Objective Reality is the nature of reality that is not Subjective. Not based off of PERSONAL perspective. As soon as we agree upon something existing, that thing is no longer subjective, but Objectively existing... arguing anything different would be arguing from Scenario 1.

Claiming that a Reality does not exist is a useless statement.

I would like to go on to prove that, though I really hope I don't have to.

At any rate... all the above is why I can, confidently, claim that 1: There is no God or gods. 2: There is no afterlife. 3: There is no fairies, demons, angels ect ect. 4: Humanity is doomed to suffering. 5: Aliens have probably never visited earth. 6: You emotions and thoughts do not matter in the face of Objectiv....

Wait, hold on a minute. What was number 4? (Six has some problems to, but we will get to that later).

Well... number 4 is a scary one... and interesting... and very depressing. And, admittedly, unproven.

Suffering exists, right? And nobody wants to suffer, right? Yet time and time again, we (living organisms capable of feeling suffering) are introduced to suffering. So, so far as has been witnessed, the VAST majority (I only won't say all because I can't directly prove another being hasn't felt something.) of beings have felt suffering. So there is NO indication that anything will change.

To exist is to suffer.

But fret not. There are a couple of ways out. Besides self-annihilation, that is. Buddhists, for example, practice a (I'm only talking about the philosophy, not the faith) thing called “detachment”. Pretty much all that means is that you can't suffer if you don't care about anything. Though they rely upon the idea that suffering only occurs when you care about something, which is hence forth unproven.

Put down those clippers though, you don't have to shave your head. Science also has a way out.

It HAS been proven that, as scientific knowledge progresses, suffering has decreased... or more accurately stated, the causes of suffering have been suppressed. It is not unreasonable to think that, given infinite time and resources, science could end suffering completely. But the catch is, all scientific knowledge is based upon the most accurate representation of Objective Reality possible. To find the most accurate portrait of Objective Reality, we need ALL subjective experiences... including yours.

Put down that text book though... or better yet, read it and then we can chit chat. At any rate... now we fall down the rabbit hole...

Mankind, as a whole, has proven we have no interest in ending suffering. We simply DO NOT care. I don't care about you, you don't care about me. Want proof? Will you cry when I die?

“But Zero...” you whine, “... we cant feel empathy for things we don't know exist.”

Actually, you're part right... I don't know that guy in India with three kids a wife and a small plot of land on which he farms peanuts exists... but I do know the likely hood of him existing. I also know (as to last time I checked) India has the highest cancer rate of any country on earth... I do know that a guy like him could be dieing as we speak. I do know that his family prolly cares about him (keep this in mind, this will be VERY important later). I do know what its like for a single mother of three... And I do know what life is like when you cant afford food....

So, even if I don't know he exists, I know can feel empathy for him.

113,542.808 an hour.

Think about that number. That rate. That is how many people have died since you started reading this tirade. Now... to understand the scope of human suffering... lets assume each person each has 2 kids (average household size for developed nations is slightly more, undeveloped is much higher) AND 2 parents, or a total of 4 people in their families. Now lets assume they have no friends, and its only these 4 people that care about them... We are assuming that each persons is adult and their loved ones cares about them... truly terrible thoughts.

113,542.808 x 4 = 454,171.232.. an hour.

That is the number of people that will begin suffering by the time you finish this rant.

But... when someone you love dies, the pain can carry on... lets say a week...

534,105,368.832

That is the number of people that will suffer due to death ONLY in a period of seven days.

Do I really need to factor suffering through abuse, accident, lies, cheating, stealing, war, mental illness......

This number almost drove me to suicide... though honestly I never faced it before...

Numbers like this.... They are almost inconceivable...

Now... you could argue Dunbar's Number. But I would return that Dunbar's Number only measures the stable relationship a person can have, not the scope of empathy.

At anyrate... there is a few things you can do with what I call the “Scope of Suffering”. We can self annihilate. Which I believe is a rational response. But not the optimal response(dodges ban hammer?).

The Best response we can have when fighting the Scope of Suffering, is that which leads us to it in the first place. Empathy.

We need to feel more Empathy.

We can fight this. We can end ALL human (probably non human to) suffering.

This MANDATES us to reach out and make the attempt to understand, accept and attempt to uplift anyone and everyone we meet.

This, combined with the progress of science in suppressing suffering, we will fight the war on both fronts... and we can and WILL win.

'We are each an angel with a single wing, and only by embracing one another, might we fly.'

…. Unless...

And herein lies where I am at.

I can only make judgments based upon what I witness. And, from what I have seen... Man does not love man. He hates man.

Granted, these traits are ingrained by evolution. But those times are long gone behind us...

But every structure of society is based upon these primitive notions. Every one is based upon the Alpha Male. The big guy in charge.... systems intrinsic with violence and thus suffering.

Mankind MUST evolve NOW. Or.... or we are doomed to suffer for eternity.

I press the immediacy of this, because, for the first time in history we are capable of annihilating every organism on he planet. And, at this time, we have our guns pointed at each other. Extremism sweeps the West and Middle East, both religious and ideological. Dictators have power that... is unimaginable.

And with every passing day their power grows, misusing the boons science has given.

Soon... very soon. The power will be too great to ever uproot these mammoths of power. And then...

Our world is, more rapidly everyday, is becoming a dystopia the likes of which fiction has never imagined.

Think I'm wrong... you haven't been paying attention.

Things are not getting better... they are getting worse.

So where does this leave us? The half mad that have more issues that we can shake a stick at...

I don't know....

Personally... I want to get better. I want to quit dwelling on things and try to live. But part of me says that, by ignoring the problems and just going about my life, things will only get worse. And one day I will look up from my narrow window and see a world where I am in chains. Driven mad by the cruelty of man and thrust into the heart of suffering... all because I ignored it and instead 'thought happy thoughts'.

Part of me wants to use my suffering as fuel for the fires of the revolution our world so desperately needs. Use it to force evolution on man... but I can't do that alone.

But another part of me... the truly insane part.... wants to burn everything to the ground. Revel in the suffering of others. This part, knowing it cant beat them, joins the zietgiest. It is a hungry part, a sadistic part. And if I am correct that man kind lacks the empathy to do anything about its situation... The only logical action to take is the illogical. The insane. The Monstrous.

Maybe, one day, I will be proven wrong. Maybe one day someone will show me that I have been wrong about everything... I hope that is the case. But to date... not one has even come close.

I might not be the Devil, but I am not a hero... and My God, don’t pray for me.

42.

The other day I was tired, so I decided to take a nap.

Waking up after about half hour later to the sound of an opening and shutting door, noted my roommate leaving the house. A half lidded glance at the nearby clock informed that I have only been sleeping for half an hour. Letting sloth have her way with me, I let myself drift back off.

The sound of a vehicle in the drive way wakes me. Sitting up and rubbing the sand from my eyes. I note the growing conversational din of a crowded space rising. Stumbling to the door, a move aside the coats that hang in front of the widow. Casting aside the veil, I see dozens of vehicles lined the thin gravel road, and dozens more parked in the wide yard.

Not sure what is happening, I don my coat and hat, and step out nervously. Despite dozens of vehicles, ranging from super-cars to RV's, not a single soul is to be seen. I know they are around. I can hear them. I can hear the omnipresent dull roar of hundreds of them. I can't make out specific words, or even a tone. But they are here...all around me. Their voices inside of my, twisting me turning me. The dull roar inside my ears sending shivers of terror down my sp....

In the window.

My roomate. He's talking to someone.

I see her hand on his shoulder pulling him closer. They kiss. Becky?

I haven’t seen here since highschool. And havn't thought about here sinc. Pretty girl, sweet girl. My crush was unrequited. Non-the-less, she was always a sweet heart...

My chest quivers.

She opens the door, “Love you babe, bye!” smiling at my roomate.

My stomache churns.

Shes walking towards me. She sees me! Shes looking right at me! She's past me...

I turn to see my roommate, hanging in the doorway, a nervous smile on his face.

“Haven't seen Becka in ages. Looks good.” I turn, my jaw gritting. His audacity... “I'm going to the store.”

“Hold up, I'll come with you.”

I mount my bike, glaring over my shoulder. He's happy. $#%^ eating grin on his quarter moon shaped ugly mug. Some days.. some days I want nothing more than to rip that 'moon' face off with my teeth. Every time I see it smile. Laugh...

I pedal away, trying to out pace the call to carnage I feel growing in my chest. But he catches up.

I'm glad I didn't take the car. Its a nice day. The warm spring air wiping past my shoulder length hair as I let the steep angle of the hill carry me down. I don't bother controlling the speed of my descent, I know these hair pin curves like I do the back of my hand. The cool air of my face, and songs of the tree hidden birds do a good job in calming me, though I can still hear the rickety sound of the other bike behind me.

I breathe. Taking spring into my lungs, sweet scents filling my nose and warm humidity coating my tongue. I smile, remembering the many hours spent combing the forests of the coast on days like this. I miss my camera. Maybe one day, when this entire mess of a life is behind me... He passed me!

The moon face bastard to which I owe my life passed me! I was falling with gravity! This was intentional! Again he tries to assert his dominance on me!

“I'm sorry about earlier!” he shouts from a few meters ahead, “I didn't think she would come by.”

The drums of war reverberate from my thunderous heart, echoing through my bones.

“We started talking online a month ago. She look good, huh.”

That crooked self assured, self absorbed smile spread through the gaunt face, cracking the quarter moon in half. My eyes narrowed, predatory hunger tainting my vision.

“I was going to tell you sometime. What do you think of her?”

HOW DARE HE! How dare he be happy! How dare he find comfort in the arms of another person! How dare he find joy in his meaningless existence! How dare he! How dare he have the audacity to find meaning! Joy! Happiness! These are my things! Things stripped from me that I will never have again!

A hair pin turn. My feet slammed into the pedals, alternating, picking up speed. The drums beat like cannons in my mind, the claws tightening about my spine, tongue whispering in my ears. He turned around just in time to see me. See me speed up, slamming into the side of his bike, and send him sailing over the edge of the steep cliff.

Stopping too quick for my bike to compensate, I stumbles to the pavement and darted to the edge of the cliff.

He lay at the bottom, twisted heap of gore and aluminum fused into the same form from the hundred foot drop,

The car horn blared, and I turned in time to see the RV kill me.

I wake up.

I look around in confusion. Why is it so quiet.

I go to the door... there are no cars parked outside, no deathly din of people...

I am alone. Awake, but alone.

Good news?

Get mail today... apparently I qualify for Oregon Health Plan... or at least a chance to enroll in it. Won't actually find out if I get it until Jan next year...and still have to fill in the paperwork.

Don't get me wrong. This is good news. I means, if I can get it, may be able to actually see a shrink... yippie. Also a few other health things may be covered... great, I need new glasses anyway.

But damn... I hate the dishonor.

I may write more on it later, on honor and such...

Suffice it to say, relying on any form of assistance is dishonorable, government assistance even more so... I had to relent when survival was on the line, but now? Maybe... maybe one day I will be able to reclaim what I lost on day, but for now, survival means self depreciation. And I can't ever reclaim what was lost, if I am dead.

I know I have to. But god damn. But I have to...

Speaking of which...

I posted another long winded rant the other day.

I re-read my words, and the few responses to it, one bloke in particular. Sure they weren't words of some old wizened master, words that would provide a quick fix and solve all the words ills. They were humble... and provided very little in the way of answers. What they did give me though, was inspiration.

I am nothing. The probabilistic sum of all the events that I have witnessed, collapsed like a tonne of $#%^ on my mind. I can't be anything else... And even though I will never be more than 0, this does not mean the constituents of that which is me have to be 0. That would be a very boring equation...

I can't deny that being nothing grants a strange sort of freedom, though the only avenues of escaping nothingness are usually... less than wholesome, I have an advantage (maybe). I have all the time in the world.

I have spent the past... how ever many years trying to escape this half-life. Following conventional rules to integrate (or re-integrate) into a conventional society. This wont work. You cant fit a square peg in a round hole.... that's a terrible turn of phrase... you can totally do just that, so long as the dimensions of the square are smaller that the perimeter of the circle.... Here we go! 'You cant divide 0 by 0. (shut up! Its "undefined!" )

So... I need to change the equation. I need to re-balance the equation. 0 times a slight gift for writing, to the power of effort plus a goal, divided by life minus time spent. There we are. Back at 0.

Now the hard part... dedication... discipline. Effort. Sure, at the end of the day, I may still be a little... mad? But at least the madness will be directed, instead of stagnating in a pool of its own filth.

I have already began one half, writing at least every other day... maybe I should try creative writing again. I have more than enough ideas... Math... I do like me numbers, despite being really bad at them. But I'm a quick learner. Also its a thing one can teach oneself easily. All it takes is knowing the rules of the language. And, most importantly, its useful.

But writing will be the focus. Its good for me. This is the way I prey. </rant>

Alienation and anger.

It is my belief, not entirely unfounded, that these are amongst the most volatile cocktails of human emotion.

Anger acts as a fuel. It is the ever burning coal behind the ribs. It settles, condenses under the pressure as more and more fuel is piles upon the heap. By itself, it is inert (as I long ago learned to control it), the hyper dense black matter kept contained by forced empathy and distraction. And though never safe, it could be kept under check...

Until we add it alienation.

Humans are a social species. All our mechanisms all evolved within context of the 'tribe', a collection of about one hundred people. And though, even within the context, our prime concern is our own welfare, the tribe served as the assurance of the Biological Imperative. In simpler terms, the tribe kept us alive and able to spread out genes.

But increasingly in modern times, we have begun to change.

To me, there is no greater irony than that; In an age of the most connectivity, we are the most alienated.

In an age where, in a few simply clicks of the mouse, I can potentially connect with millions (if not billions) of people from cultures spanning the surface of our tiny blue rock. It is memorizing to think that one moment I could be talking to a young lady in India about U.S. Politics, and the next a gentlemen in Scotland about string theory, and the next to a Swedish bloke about the differences between American football and the game the rest of the world plays. And it is inconceivable that all tree of these conversations can be happening simultaneously.

So why, in this world of hyper connectivity, am I so Alone?

I think there is a great difference between the sheer number of potential connections, and then the depth of connections...

In modern society there is, I think, not greater taboo to admit loneliness.

In others eyes it makes one appear weak. Dependent. Often, disgustingly so, people believe it refers to the romantic. The admission causes others to immediately distrust and few the one who states the fact with suspicion. After all, what could be wrong with a person that they have no connections...

While I am hesitant to relent that one must have 'something wrong with them' to feel as I do, I will admit that it is most common in those that have... lived hard lives, shall we say?

But what about the housewife who is lonely? Or her husband? Or the wealthy trade broker? Or the thoughtful scientist. Or the young lady who just moved to a new city? Loneliness can have many forms, and many causes.

But, you might be saying to yourself, that is easy to fix. Just go out and meet people. But is that so easy?

The Housewife has to take care of three children, maintain a household, and get dinner on the table. And, though her romantic relationship with her husband, who must work seventy hours a week to make ends meat, is fine (if a little lackluster) there is nothing more she wishes than to have someone to gossip with... But who has the time for that?

The Husband loves his family. He works hard at his blue collar job, pushing day in and day out. He doesn’t have as much responsibility as he wants, but he is content with his work. He comes home at five or six, kisses his wife, tickling her chin with his beard (she loves that). His daughter has dance class after dinner. The education is expensive, but she loves it and is good. The Husband hopes, one day, his daughter can find work in her passions. The boys are being a handful. He has to do next months budget. God is he exhausted. He would give anything to go surfing with the boys and go be a beach rat for just one more day... He hasn't even talked to Dan in a month.

The Broker works just as hard as the Housewife husband, though he is white collar. He spends nearly eighty hours a week turning money into more money for his firm. Now we factor in roughly eight hours of sleep a day, seven hours of commuting a week. Seven more getting ready for work everyday. Seven more for all three meals in a day, and five for keeping in shape. (I think I just describe Patrick Batemans schedule >.> ) He simply doesn’t have the time to go hang out at the bar with his college buddies.

Or the Scientist who, a predominant amount of his work takes place at home or behind closed doors. He can't discuss his passion either, as he signed a non-disclosure. And he has that paper to finish. And a funeral to go to. And he and his wife’s anniversary is coming up. Maybe he can get everyone together for the weekend and nerd out with some D&D. He has to call the...

Or the Young Woman? She doesn’t work as much as our other characters, a normal forty hour week. She had to come here for the job though. It pays well, and she is able to keep herself afloat. But, having never been to this city, she has no lay of the land. She doesn’t know where her peers like to spend their time.... She needs to call mom... Crap, shes late for class!

Heh. Not enough hours in the day. Not enough days in a year.

These people are, for all intents, normal. They had normal lives, I would argue (compared to most) good lives. No trauma. No sickness. Not a single kink in the thread of life. And all suffer from loneliness.

Ask yourself. When was the last time you stood on the corner of the street, maybe waiting at a cross walk, and tried to start a conversation with the person next to you? Well.. they are obviously going somewhere... What about the other person sitting alone in the diner? Or the guy ahead of you inline at the register?

The most terrible thing, I think, is they both want to have someone to chat with...

I often quote bands. Mostly in the Metal genres, because (in my mind) Metal is amongst the most versatile of genres. It is capable of discussing a truly staggering range of emotions and topics... though, admittedly, often the negative ones. Metal, to me, is a mirror of our reality though.... at any rate, a band I like makes this statement in one of their songs, “You're born Alone, You die Alone, The rest is yours to fill the gaps”

So why don't we?

Let us combine the above characters. The Housewife. The Husband. The Broker. The Scientist. The Young Woman. Lets takes this new character, dubbed The Human... and lets hurt him.

Lets make her an Introvert. Lets make him have a touch of social anxiety. Lets make her, due to some tragedy in his past, have difficulty trusting people... How lonely is The Human?

Now, lets bring this full circle.

Alienation and anger.

It is my belief, not entirely unfounded, that these are amongst the most volatile cocktails of human emotion.

One who, lacking human connection, is unable to form empathy. It is a self referential concept. Written in its meta, a process of exponential growth.

The Human is lonely. Unable to form connection, she lacks empathy. Unable to form empathy, he is unable to form connections....

Now we toss in anger.

This is not normal anger. This is is not what you feel when you stub your toe on that damned nightstand. This is not what you feel when you see some bigot spouting hate. Or the genocide of of an entire people in Africa. Or the bully harassing the child in school. No...

This anger is hate. Hate born into The Human. Hate for all things. She tried to control it. He tries to feel empathy. But the hate thwarts her... If he could only feel something for someone. But people shy away from her. They get scared by him...

Now, we add in the depression isolation causes. Then a dash of nihilism. Then the sickness and pain that the world is rife with... the catalyst has ignited.

There is a reason people like me take out our guns and lay waste to malls, theaters and schools. We don't want to... at least, not at first...

There is a hate within me. A disgust for all things happy. An envy for all the things I cant have. A disillusion with the dark ways of the world. A stain upon my mind...

I fight with it every day, but am unable to cleanse it. And I fear... truly, that one day my anger and alienation will reach critical mass. The thermo-nuclear reaction will begin. The chain reaction will spread like flames over lakes of tar.

I can't cleanse this stain, no matter how much I want to....

But do I?

I have lived so long in this... shell. This husk whose soul fled ages ago. This hate... its born within me.

What am I without my hate? What am I without my sadness? What am I without my loneliness? What am I without my guilt? What am I without the Demon that has defined me for as long as I can remember.

There is something inside.

---

A few days ago I got a letter. I may qualify for state aid in regards to health care. Among that is mental health... I have to send the paperwork in... make a call.

What if it happens? What if I get it?

It has been... a long time since I saw a shrink. And never long enough to get a real diagnosis, but long enough to try some meds... my father made sure of that.

What if I admit to the things I admit here? I don't do good in cages...

They look at a few things, from what I understand.

Am I a danger to myself?

I think about suicide everyday. I have a series of self inflicted burn scars on my wrist. I feel the drive to add more everyday.

Am I a danger to the others?

I think about hurting others daily. Often en masse.

Am I able to hurt myself?

If I wanted to kill myself, you would have to strip me naked and chain me down.... then make sure I don't use those chains to break my own neck. And prevent me from biting off my own tongue, which I have experimented with before.

Am I capable of hurting others?

In reach I have a .22 pistol with 2 ten round magazines. A .22 repeater rifle (load on sunday, shoot all week). A .357 revolver. A 30-06 hunting rifle.. scope needs to be zeroed. In ten minutes I can get my hands on several other firearms. With a single call, a sawn off twelve gauge, a 9mm pistol, a sawn off .308... I know how to make a number of poisonous gasses, have access to ricin, and know how to prepare it. Know the basics of making explosives and more than capable of learning to make rudimentary bombs in an hour or two. I know some anatomy, how to and where to stab to get to the heart quickly (one of three ways), or about a dozen major arteries and organs...And I have the internet.

Am I willing to kill?

Ask me again in an hour...

And lastly... Do you think I am a danger to myself or others?

Prolly not. I wouldn't be posting this if I was... I'm not behind a proxy of any sort, and anybody with a little knowledge can trace me online. And, granted, I can walk out the door and into the woods right now and am pretty confidant I can survive, I am not foolish know to think I can survive and hide at the same time... at least not till I get to the wilderness down south.

At the moment I have no desire to harm others....but that could change in the next week, day, hour... The fact is... I have no idea. Someday I think I am capable and willing... other days I am abhorred at those thoughts. Some days... some days I think about offing myself just as a safety precaution.

---

What am I without this madness. This rage. This hate. This sadness. This loneliness...

To be honest. I scares me. Even the idea of being happy, stable, and without these thoughts and urges. They have been with me for so long. And being well.... is such and alien concept to me.

…

I used to have nightmares... well. I still do.

Nightmares the likes of which... wake up screaming. Then the night terrors. Phantoms attacking me in my sleep. Paralyzed with fear.

I still do dream terrible things. I still do wake up several times during the night. But now...

You see, after living with the kinds of things I saw in my sleep for so long, eventually they just stopped scaring me. And eventually, on those rare days when I don't have them, I miss them... hehe... how ###$ up is that.

I learned a trick. If I stay up very late, or deprive myself of sleep, I will sleep deeper. And then I won't have to face the nightmares, the phantoms... or the dreams...

Oh the dreams...

I still have those often.

Imagine, every night you are reminded just of what you are. A worthless retch. A loathsome stain. You are taunted with everything you don’t, and never will, have... I traded one hell for another.

---

I want to get better. I am afraid to get better. I am tired of being alone. I thrive in my isolation. I am tired of anger. Hate is my fuel. I want to destroy everything. I want to save the world. I want to die. I want to finally live.

… Just another day. Just another nail in the coffin, another knot in the noose.

I'm just screaming into the wind. There is no one here. I am Alone.

I have paperwork to do....

God damn I feel like $#%^.

There is.. this feeling. In my chest. Like there is a whole filled with oceans of water. I don't even know what it is... It feels like it wants to burst out from my mouth and eyes, but it can't. Its just so deep. So cold.

I don't want to do anything. Nothing is giving me pleasure. Or pain. Just numb. I would sleep if I could.

I was watching a show today. A demon, who is possessing a nun, meets the angel of death. For a moment the demons power wavers and the girl comes up. She begs for death... Every nerve in my body jumped to action, my hair stood on end, and became light headed, I very nearly teared up... I think I want to die.

I'm so tired of it all... I just want it to be over. There is no joy waiting for me. No silver lining or pot of gold. No bliss. My future holds no promise of contentment. No succor. Nothing. Only this listless, lonely, half-mad, angry, sad, worthless half-life. I think I want to die.

Pulling the trigger, so to speak, shouldn't be this hard. I don't want to live anymore. I have no real fear of pain. And, god willing, there will be no afterlife to bother me. I know I will just... sleep... Peace. I want to die... what is stalling my hand?

I can't live with these scars anymore. I want to die.

These burn scars on my wrist beg me to add more. Fire, by many ancient folk, is thought to be the great purifier... maybe thats why I burn myself when I get like this. I just want to burn a light inside. ###$... I can't focus. They ache every so often... Like right now... I'm not even sure why... most of them went deep. There I a certain skill in it. If you press too hard, you'll snuff the cigarette and wont get past the first few layers of flesh, too soft and the burn will only be on the exterior and wont go deep enough. Steady, firm, constant pressure... Then pain. Then... for a few moments everything becomes so clear.... I wonder if I could burn all the way through?

###$... what am I saying? It's a waste of time. The clarity will die, scattering like the winds. The I will drift on the ocean in my heart again.

I want to die.

So...

I'm a bit out of it. Haven't been sleeping well. Bad dreams.

In part, I came here to psycheforums to curb the growing anxiety of communicating. All my other $#%^ aside, my primary goal was to try and reverse the deep seeded fear of reaching out and just talking to someone.

Splattering on this here journal every few days has helped. So has the daily writing I have been doing, fiction or otherwise. Just simply the process of writing acts as a life preserve on the oceans of #######4... I'm still getting wet, but not drowning. So that's something.

I took a risk the other day... there is a vlogger I enjoy listening to. On a half intoxicated whim, I decided to email them.... We exchanged a few emails over the past day... they seemed eager to talk.

Of course, as to the nature of my derangement, I became cripplingly nervous every time I was about to respond to an email...I could go through the whole process, but don't quite feel like it.

Though, and probably it is much my fault, this forum has done little save provide me a place to vent, I think I may have found the 'solution'. Though less of a panacea and more of a method. I just have to push myself... keep pushing. Bury all the pain the anger and the $#%^ deep inside and keep pushing...

I am going to need the ability to operate normally... I may have found a way to get into school. I need to brush up on some of my old math skills first, but if this pans out... I won't count my chickens.

Wanting to die can be broken down into letting a part of yourself die and starting anew.
I have been at the want to die stage a few times and prepared a few times.
Instead I consider part of myself must die. I change up my life. I throw things away. I flip how I feel.
There are times when I change how I feel and instantly the world changes accordingly. Energy can be transmuted, transformed and changed and charged.
I know this is about you but I want to give you an example. Nothing was flowing right for me. I saw myself acting just like my own dog-awaiting each move I make so he knows what to do and where to go and waiting on my every move-I too was this way with my husband-always awaiting every word and command and ready on the wait-as he does not wait. I ignored my own flow and I got all messed up mentally in doing so. the second I DECLARED MY FLOW COMES FIRST the ######6 world flipped over in about 15 seconds. I was super stressed and under extreme pressure and then I painted a sign-MY FLOW..sprinkled glitter on it and then the phone rang. It was my husband saying he was in trouble-his world just flipped over and he was calling to tell me-his boss just quit and he was now holding this company together by himself and he was super stressed and now had bad anxiety.
I felt so much relief with that phone call-as if all the stress had transfered from my shoulders to his. I felt relief-pure relief.
I still have bad days where i want to die and write death poetry-and I pick a part of me I want to die and I write it off...
I wish you the same..let part of yourself go and let part of YOURSELF GROW

specialK wrote:Wanting to die can be broken down into letting a part of yourself die and starting anew....

Thank you. I don't know about all that transferring negativity stuff... or the energy thing, but there is a very good point you made.

There is a book I am in love with, in which there is there is a religious organization called the Bene Gesserit... they have a chant, which you reminded me of.

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

Fear can, easily, be replaced with any negative emotion.

What you call "Flow" I call "Drive". The will, the effort, the force needed to affect the world around us....

Thank you.