Dinkaltranen

It is worth noting that these are in reverse chronological order.

23rd of October

Crazy. Haven't written in here in for a while, thought it was just a day or two. But as it turns out, no, it isn't. I blame the alcohol, and therefore myself. I thought a lot about why I don't go out and engage nearly as much as I used to. I realised it is not neccesarily just fear of adverse experiences and rejection, it is that frequently when I go out genuinely attempting my best, doing the right thing, I am punished for it by bad actors. At university, it was frequently the power games of the young who were used to the social dynamics of highschool, or the old who had never stopped clinging to that structure and somehow managed to inflict it upon a new environment. I thought I would meet my best friends for life at university. I thought I would find likeminded individuals who valued both life experience and education. But no. It was a closed box of regression.

19th of October

The older I get, it feels like more pieces are stripped away from me. It feels like more and more the world is telling me there is nothing for me here, reinforced by the fact that everyone worthwhile I meet leaves.

My best friend of years: gone without so much as a goodbye.

My connections in The Sticks, forgotten, decrepit.

My childhood home, sold, my family split across the world.

Every person I make a connection with is moving on or moving away.

Yet I'm still here. Just 10 minutes away from the place I grew up. Why? I don't know. It's familiar, certainly. My support network is here, but they're also moving on and awat. That alone is not enough to justify me being priced out of a neighbourhood that is now foreign to me and enduring god awful student housing for another 7 years. It is clear the longer I stay: there is nothing for me here.

I've got to get moving but I've got to figure out how. Logistics. Options. Otherwise it's all for nothing, and I'll fall even further behind. Where is my story?

18th of October, Part 2

This prickly, agitated feeling gives me no rest. I feel like I am doing nothing except playing chicken with an existential crisis. I am trying to face it right now, without having it destroy me and throw me into despair. It could be simply the comedown from my medication, but I think there is more too it. Today, I dared to think again, about what I might want, about what I need to do to get it. I need constant low level distraction or stimulation to stave me away from it. Realising my age and that I lack a degree, any real savings, anything that I want or need to live a meaningful life, is quite depressing. Realising all the suffering and pain I have to go through to complete this. Knowing that it probably will not be worth it, but I will not know unless I try. It is enough to make me bitter and resentful.

Right now feel like I'm on the edge of a crisis, hard to tell what set it off. When I ask myself what's wrong it's a lot of stuff that is currently out of my control, but I had power to change in the past, or are consequences of my past such as my degree, social connections, etc.

In other words I have no choice but to try, even if I don't believe in the things I'm trying for. That's the only path I see as the way forward out of this limbo existence. I feel like I cannot regulate myself for long enough to achieve consistency in long term high workload goals.

A lot of shame prevents me both from dying and also from continuing on in life. I feel like not only is there very little agency in my life, the agency I have is not worthwhile - things will not change for a long time, and they will most likely not change in a meaningful way. I compared self-improvement and growth to exercise where you suffer and are in discomfort in a routine in exchange whatever it is you're trying to do. However, I have felt, and for a long time now, that is much closer to honing a skill in an environment where that skill's application no longer decides the outcome. What I've said recently is that trying to find friends feels like throwing a fishing net in a rapidly drying lake. It doesn't matter how much better I get at fishing, chances are I'm not going to find anything good, and the experience is miserable. I do not believe I am strong enough to endure that suffering. We have from my burnouts and tire-spins that rapid adherence to authority is a failure state for me. The super-ego's perspective of reality is not achievable in the way it desires me to achieve it, even if some of the things it wants are very reasonable. The Id also wants some things that are 'very reasonable'. The job of me, as the ego, is to mediate not just between these two but my day to day life.

That is a lot of work to ask my conscious self. A terrifying amount of work. What looks to me to be an impossible amount of work. I do not think my ego can tolerate that, it would collapse under the weight of the entire system. So, we must ask ourselves:

How do we balance and achieve reasonable desires in a reasonable way? How do we assure the needs that aren't being met that it is all going to be alright in the end, when we don't know if it is? When we cannot guarantee the suffering the parts are experiencing is necessary for a better life?

It is like telling a beast that has been starving for 20 years, "Wait, just another 10 years", when even the person feeding the animal doesn't believe it. That beast will rip control away to sate itself whenever and wherever it can. The superego is no better. It's been keeping checks and balances the entire existence. The suffering I experience? All avoidable if I just did what it told me to do.

I've got no fucking clue.

18th of October.

I am still sick, frustratingly enough, unlikely helped by my (mild) drinking last week. Today I saw my psychologist and discussed my frustrations with the limitations of the IFS and conveyed my understanding of my own parts to relative success. I am procrastinating drawing this birthday present for a friend that is already late, I briefly considered reaching out and reconnecting with a support group I used to attend, and I am considering starting up my own free writers group somewhere locally. The workshop I attended had some positive elements, none that outstripped the negative, and I again realise I can just do this stuff myself and it will be better. It's a reocurring problem, and frustrating to say the least. I felt very bad for the others there who had paid a reasonable amount of money to learn very little except the narcissistic ramblings of a sycophantic californian champaign socialist. It was quite intolerable.

I am currently blotting out my thoughts, to avoid what I don't know. That mental 'buzzing' I now recognise as something of discomfort, a signal that I am not doing something I need to be doing, but I cannot for the life of me bring myself to do anything else today. The things I need to do seem petty and even though there is no reason to not do them now, I struggle to even begin the steps of working on them.

Dehydration has almost certainly slowed down my recovery. I am very obviously better when I am drinking large amounts of water, around 6+L a day. Even when I drink small amounts, I need to pee frequently: I honestly suspect liver damage after the last few years. A good sign to give it a rest, we'll see how long I tolerate that for. On another note I have run out of benzodiazapines, and the sudden cessation of them caused almost no noticeable effects to my surprise. I've been posting on a twitter alt again, only to get surprisingly positive responses when I in large part reply impulsively with the first thing that comes to my mind. It might be well written, but it is neither deep nor enlightening, usually just a pointed elaboration.

REST OF POST WAS DELETED

16th October.

I haven't written in here for a while, because I have been expressing myself elsewhere. Every time people discuss parts with me, they seem to *only* the concept of Managers, Exiles, and Firefighters, without regard for other models of self or self-identity. When I was struggling to determine which of my parts fit into one of these each, to me, seemingly very rigid roles for something so flexible as a part of my personality, I realised there are far smarter men who have had these ideas before.

I believe my parts more closely follow the model of Id, Ego, and Superego. What feels like the same part can vary wildly in terms of how I feel, what "it" feels. For example, there is most likely styled after my past relationships. Sometimes that part fills my head with ideas of my complete destruction and sexual torment (id). Other times that part can be quite comforting, supportive, and authoritative (ego). Other times that part fills me with disdain for my lack of ability to meet the standards set by it or myself or other parts (superego). As far as I can see this fits almost 1 to 1 to Freud's ancient model. This model in the very least appears to be true for me: and my parts.

It seems obvious to me that the IFS model is very much convertible or dependant to this system. You have a part that has unreasonable expectations of the self, a part that has core values and must be preserved (which involves it in mediation), and a part which has unreasonable desires of the self. Exiles are just a traumatic lense on top of this system to aid with the comprehension and mediation: in this 'exiles' are practically seperate from it if we assume in a hierachy that the IFS system is just Freud redone. I think I'm wrong about all of this now that I write more. And I'm tired. So I will stop for now. Will edit this or touch up on it later.

11th of October.

Everyone I know

goes away

in the end.

There's just no point making connections with people. Risk rejection, risk vulnerability, spend all the energy and time and planning growing this tree. Only for them to turn around and rip it up a year, or two years, or even just 6 months later. I know it's just abandonment talking, but it really does feel like the best solution is to just leave everyone before they can leave you. Oh, and let's not forget, if they want to maintain the relationship. Now you both have to put in more effort for less out. One of you becomes resentful, the other feels like you aren't giving it enough, and it all falls to pieces as both come to realise that it's just not worth it.

So yeah. Here's what I have to say to everyone one of you that has ever done this shit to me.

FUCK. YOU.

"But E, they have lives, you can't expect people to-" That's not what I'm asking or expecting of people. I'm asking people to not spend months or years of my life asking me to trust them and for the second I do for them to decide to leave my life in a way that, at least to me, feels like it is fundamentally permanent. Why bother earning my trust, letting me be vulnerable, only to make it completely pointless and redundant.

9th of October.

I'm very ill. Just a cold as far as I can tell, maybe a flu, but it's too early to tell.

6th of October.

Hunger and suffering. Again I know it's my fault. I know I'm the one responsible for this all. I built this cage myself. I am a leech and parasite on society. I do not believe I genuinely do anything good for the world beyond making the lives of those I talk to online better.

I would like to apologise for the disjointed nature of this journal. Often I write a sentence or two, maybe a paragraph, then close it and come back hours later. This is one of the big things that contributes to the scatter-brained and jumpy incoherent nature of my writing often. It is hard to explain how I feel when I am on my not-mood medication. It is like the engine is idling regardless of whether I am on task or not. I can certainly focus on things better, and function better, but I am still distracted. Often I end up focused on the wrong things if I am not able to be aware of what I am doing. This is compounded by the fact that I already tended to become hyperfixated on things to the point where almost all other stimuli don't exist.

I am concerned about my health: specifically my heart health. I am trying to take better care of it. Again comes up the part of me that tells me it's already too late, and the damage I have done is irreversible, which is most likely true. But that does not mean I cannot try to stem the still existing leaks in this sinking ship.

5th of October, 2024

Dopamine. Where is my dopamine? I suspect I have been eating for pleasure, a stark contrast to my statement made yesterday. The same way I have been drinking for pleasure. But, both obviously do not work to a great extent. Yet, I still do it. I am not at risk of being overweight, but it troubles me that I have been engaging in this behaviour. It is very unhealthy. I feel like I am stumbling from one source of positive feeling to another. It has lead to a lifestyle that I am extraordinarily unhappy with. Just a couple of weeks ago, I felt focused on working my way up the hierarchy of needs. I realise now that it was short lived. I don't believe it was a goal too difficult. However, I do wonder about certain variations of Maslow's hierarchy that seem to interpret things in a way I didn't, especially at the lower level. I've never interpreted sex as a physiological need: though I suppose the model shows motivations rather than strictly needs despite its name.

Another interesting thing that I wonder is: are my needs different from the norm? The Government obviously thinks so.

Fundamentally, I think I am lazy. I inconsistently look after my basic needs. I take shortcuts, even when I know it will hurt me in the long run. I live a terrible life and then wonder why I feel terrible, when it is obviously of my own making. Sorry, a bit more neurotic than usual today. I forgot to take my normal pills the past couple of days. It tends to make me quite manic by my own judgement. Anyway, back to the topic. I am terrible at basic tasks. Secondly, I find the prospect of learning them and mastering them terrifying. It makes me face the mountain of skills and development I need to go through: all of which will be very painful and feels like it will destroy me on the way. And then when I reach the 'top' (the norm, for me, is the top) I am still not valuable. I am last place and my success is worthwhile to no one. The obvious answer is to do it for myself, but I cannot work with that answer. It is not something I can model a future off of, because it is not something I believe in.

So yes. In other words, I am a gratification seeking, lazy and entitled young man. I'm not a young man anymore.

I became the person that I despised and disgusted me all those years ago.

It is very hard to have hope when I lay things out like this. I suppress it so much because it is obviously terribly overwhelming. I can only ignore the image in the mirror for so long.

I do not like the image I see from the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.

4th of October, 2024

Sometimes I make very stupid decisions, like taking my medication at 4 in the afternoon. Now my head is buzzing like a beehive and it is midnight.

I hate food. I hate cooking it, I hate the experience of eating it, I hate cleaning up after it.

Would you look at that. I lost track of time. I lost track of my train of thought. I realised it is in fact a Friday, not a Thursday. I feel like time is all mixing itself together. My thoughts screaming over one another. And I am simply here as a drifter. An observer. I can focus: but there is no emotion to my being when I do, just unease. Occasionally, anger breaks out in me. A fury, a frustration so brief and explosive that it obliterates whatever occupies my mind. Then, there is loneliness. A begging, crying and aching pain that cannot ever be consoled, only distracted. I can gaze at that part of myself when I become aware of it, but there is little point. To engage when I cannot help is to torture myself with even more angst and self-hatred. Then, when I do try to find that part, I an unable to establish contact. Sometimes I feel very in tune, other times no matter how much I search myself I feel numb. I know I am wandering in circles, but this is what happens when I write down my thoughts every hour or so. Lost. Don't know how to end this one. Might write more later. Who knows.

1st of October

Death. I am not astoundingly drunk at this moment. Drunk enough I couldn't and wouldn't drive, but not enough that I could not stand and do activities. Light feels warm and buzzes against my retinas. I feel slightly ill. On my mind is women. A couple I know I would describe as attention black holes - precisely the kind of people that I and many others have been warned about. I doubt their creation of the their attention posse was a completely conscious process driven solely by themselves, but for me it still affects me to deal with such people. I know so many women like this, and also many men. We are enabled by the stimuli at our fingertips, and it lets us live with unearned pride, sloth, and hedonism. There are very many, many bad people in this world. And only so many good. And most if not all current good people did not start off as good people. They had to change, like I must change. I must be a better person. So much suffering can be reduced, not just for me, but for others, if I am a better person. It would certainly make me hate myself less at the very least.

I am not certain what precisely know if what I want to do is neccesarily a goal that would make me a good person. I would like to drink normally, I would like to stop lying so much, and I would like to look after my body, my mind, and my health. That would be a good start.

Either way, I hope we can all become better people.

September, Sunday 29.

Do you know who you are? I don't. It feels like every time I talk to someone, I become a different person.

Of course, putting on a mask for social settings is not a unique experience. For me, unless I tirelessly manage my behaviour, one of two things happens:

1. I shut down, overwhelmed, unable to interact beyond simple comments or listening.

or...

2. I become a silly, completely unserious entertainer.

Unless absolute vigilence is kept, the effort which of course leaves me prone to shutdown, I tend towards a raucously laughing clown, cracking jokes and bantering with those around them. It is obvious that I am very poorly socialised, a weakness I've been working on for a long time. I would guess that only 20% of the population understand the rules of the social game, and of those 20% most either have realised that it is a system based on petty point scoring, or have found a small group of friends and are no longer involved socially beyond their circles. Beggars can't be choosers, and I am most certainly a beggar at this point. However, I must manage risks for damage, both psychologically and social. I've previously found groups of 3-4 people work best for me at most, but frequently the groups that are accepting to strangers are in the size of around a dozen. These groups are typically frought with drama, gossip, and all the toxic social dynamics, which causes the group to fragment into smaller tight nit groups which unfortunately often carry those toxic dynamics along with them.

Now, I can hear people saying sarcastically: "Well, Ed, clearly you have it all figured out, don't you?"

No. Understanding is different than being able to act out the correcet actions. The most obvious example of this is people in poor relationships: everyone tells Person A they must break up with Person B, who is clearly ruining their life with their relationship. Even though this is absolutely the right decision, the people giving advice to Person A are not the ones who have to pay the emotional and psychological cost of that decision, which is ultimately one of the biggest factors in the relationship staying for as long as it has already. As an outsider with no skin in the game it is very easy to say "This is the way things must be." And I do not deny that I have struggled and made mistakes. I knew the equation, I just messed up the working.

I am not doing my best. For I think that I do not know how to do my best without burning myself to cinders. But I still am trying. I am trying to get better, to better manage myself, to not get overwhelmed and be the person who I need to be in social situations whilst also being myself. I truly, truly hate myself and how I act most of the time in social situations, but even though the mute, timid and overwhelmed young person may be a more accurate reflection of how I feel, it is not the person that I need to be in social settings, and not just because it is not representative of who I am.

I am ignorant. I am arrogant. I am trying to do better. I want to do better. I want to fix the mistakes of my past as best I can, and make the future better for others as well as myself. I would like to love the world, love others, and myself.

I just can't do it all at once. It is my fault, but that means that I can at least try to change things.

Small steps. Every day. Microroutines upon microroutines.

Take care of yourself, whoever is reading.