Category Archives: Self Analysis
And it’s good! Can’t complain.
“Friends – you know who you are; you know we’re grateful.” – Blur, 1993. (Seriously. If ever a year was about Who Your Real Friends Are, it was 2011.)
Similarly, those who have fucked me up and fucked me over this year most likely know who they are also, and possibly how I feel about this (hint: angry, bewildered and sad) – with the possible exception of the Rt Hon Lord Mayor of Melbourne Robert Doyle (note contact details), who I strongly suspect does not have any idea who I am.
(I also doubt he reads this blog. But since it just can’t be said often enough I might as well take this opportunity to (re)state, for the record: Robert Doyle, you’re a fucking cunt. You really are.)
The bulk of this year’s SIDTY post I rendered in audio format at the coast a few nights ago. It goes into a bit more detail (although, to be honest, not all that much). Enjoy:
Vale 2011. Viva 2012.
Happy new year!
Went under: May ’06.
Went under: April ’07.
Went under: November ’08.
I’ve – yeah – never talked directly about this stuff here much in the past. (Edit: except at the very beginning, I guess.) I don’t know why I am now, or if it’s sensible. Talking about badness just feeds into it.
Teigan’s ego is addicted to saying too much.
I just got nothin’ else to talk about RN. The only thing I really care about is getting out of this $%# hole.
Which is kind of the problem.
FFS stop digging and chill the fuck out, man.
Freakley told me last night to turn my shittiness into art. Personal motto: “redeem garbage”, apparently. This is what she told me when we first met in early ’07, too.
“Make art!” she says.
She’s good like that.
Trouble is, my shittiness basically consists of an inability to put any meaningful form or shape around anything. Narrative failure. Everything seems completely empty and pointless. Whinge piss moan blah.
When I crash, I tear myself to pieces trying to Figure Myself And Everything Generally Out – metaphysical arms flailing comically – until I feel my sanity seriously starting to disintegrate. Then I give up, and just live vacantly from one atomized moment to the next.
There’s not much you can make from that. Got art? Well, no. That’s kind of the problem.
That said, this here blog was originally started in a bid to pull myself out of that void. And it totally worked, over time.
But the last two times I’ve been seriously down since then (mid ’06; mid ’07), I didn’t really talk about it much here. It seemed self-sabotaging to advertise it too explicitly. And also pointless. Natch.
I didn’t really socialise, either. This time I am, a bit. I worry that’s similarly self-sabotaging and is doing irrepairable damage to the relationships in question.
Contact with other people gives you (some) perspective, makes you feel less alone, and generally makes life a bit easier. All of which is nice.
But ultimately allowing people to see much of you when you’re like this just weakens you further. It just fuels the negative self image which is getting you so down in the first place.
“Hi, my existence is a gaping abyss of infinite horror; I feel completely worthless and useless, and I don’t really give a shit about anything except how useless and worthless I feel. Er.. how are you?” Doesn’t help.
Meh; I’m on the up, gradually.
I was really in hell a few months ago.
I’m not in hell now. Just – yeah – a big ol’ envoided vacuum of blah.
And I won’t be here forever.
Looking at old TF posts for the purposes of linking to them in more recent TF posts, I was struck by something: No fucker is commenting here any more. (Except Liv. And Li. And Wortwut. And the odd Neurocam random combing the archives.) (Gotta love those tenacious, cockroachlike Neurocam randoms.)
Where have you gone, beloved blog massive?
Do you not love me any more?
Is it because Lady J doesn’t love me any more?
That’s it, isn’t it.
It is. Don’t lie.
Actually, I don’t think that’s really it at all. It’s all about me. (It is always all about me.)
To get perhaps ill-advisedly personal for a moment (Li will enjoy this):
And I got lots of comments in those days. Because as we all know, if you love yourself – like, really, truly do – then everyone else will love you too. Everyone who matters, anyways.
LJ fell in love with me at around this time. And that was great. But then I think I became dependent on her loving me in order to love myself. So when she stopped, I kinda stopped as well. Et voila: blog comments? Thing of the past.
It’s more complex than that, naturally. But it’s One Way Of Looking At Things. Makes a lot of sense to me.
This is partly the reason people sing the blues when their partners leave them. It’s partly that you just desperately miss having them around, course; it’s partly the shattered dreams of future happiness; it’s partly the sense that all this time and energy expended on getting to know this person really, really well and them getting to know you really, really well, and building trust and constructing a shared identity and blah blah blah has all gone totally to waste. It’s partly because you feel like a part of your very soul has been ripped out, leaving a huge gaping hole in your psyche.
But it’s also significantly because you’ve forgotten how to love yourself without someone else to back you up on it.
That’s really, really bad though. You shouldn’t need anyone else to love you. And the more you do, the less they will.
Am I wrong, non-existent blog readers?
It’s one of those perverse inverse dynamics that The Universe is so fond of, for some sick twisted reason that I will never entirely understand [*] except maybe when I’m on nitrous oxide.
Ah, sweet nitrous oxide.
It will never leave me. Until they make it illegal.
(Why isn’t it illegal? It’s so good.)
[*] NB This is disingenuous; I do in fact understand perfectly. It’s because people are attracted to power and personal power derives from self-sufficiency. But for the purposes of allowing this post to form a nice, natural arc, I had to pretend to be stupider than I really am. Funny how that happens sometimes.
Welcome to 2008!
We’re lost, but unconcerned.
It’s working out surprisingly well so far.
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