I used to drink in part because it curbed my hypervigulance and I was able to care less about a general social anxiety and with that came a refreshing confidence in my abilities to perceive and articulate and be social.
As I journey through this foriegn sober topography I call my present life I'm having to be both brutal and ultimately I presume forgiving of myself.
It kinda yo-yo s. The same tool I use to self critique can be turned on others in self defense.
So I have to curb my self hatred as it's expressed externally as distain for sorry-assed-ricocheting-mad as a meat-ax fuck-knuckles as they present themselves to me on my passage through time and space.
This process I'm going through. This recovery process. Has at it's core a humility I have yet to really grasp.
I'll get there but until then there will be those who get between me and my peace of mind who will unfortunately suffer steaming blue bruises of the mind as I employ the psychic cattleprod that has been my constant defensive companion.
It's nice to have a hobby. :)
2 comments:
Of course at least one of two things needs to be present for this to mean anything. One somebody needs to give thruppence what I think. (and at this point I've alienated everybody I truly care about so I'd put that number at about nil)
Or... There needs to at least be an audience of some small sort (this I can manage...just)
Sooner or later the blowtorch evisceration gets pointed back towards me though so I have to ask myself why I bother displaying my vulnerabilities by my well worded, let's not put too fine a point on it, 'abuse'.
It's a performance piece I've gone and made a career out of via wordless sarcasm and the written stuff is amusing but ultimately corrosive.
Oh well, recovery wouldnt be viable without industrial quantities of self doubt would it?
Not quite :)
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