I don’t know if this is guilt, though there’s certainly an element of that in there. I know that what I am and what I do isn’t right, though I can’t always remember why.
There’s a fair amount of fear, but not necessarily that I’ll be found out (although that idea is terrifying). Fear of myself perhaps. Of what I am. Of what I’ve done. That there’s no way out. No way back. No return. No way to stop myself. No way to be free of this. No clean slate. No forgiveness. No peace. No happiness. No real life.
There’s a lot of tiredness, and despair. Carrying this reminder taints everything. There’s times when I want so desperately for it not to be there. For it all to be a bad dream. To be able to experience the world again without it. To be free of it.
There’s the thing itself. A nagging shard in my mind, demanding I give in. So that for a few brief moments I can forget how terrible it is. I can convince myself it’s ok. I can feel intoxicatingly good about the whole thing. Before it all turns to bitterness again.
I suppose there’s a fair amount of self-hatred there. I shouldn’t be this. Nobody should be this. This shouldn’t exist in the world. But it does, and mine is the mind that has manifested it.
I think I’m ashamed, though no one really knows. I’m ashamed on behalf of theoretical me. Who has to admit to the world that he’s this, that he’s done this. Has to face their opprobrium, disgust, anger, rejection. Has to live in isolation, an unperson.
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A friend of mine said in conversation, that the limitations of redemption rest solely on the one asking forgiveness. Forgiveness coming from yourself as well as the person hurt nurtures the healing process, but a lack from the other party doesn’t bar that redemption.
And finding meaning in others and the world around us may be difficult, but everyone thinks horrible things, and most are addicted in some way to something or other… part of being human, even with isolation no one is alone in their darkness. Acting on it is what draws that barrier, but in.. most cases, even then there’s some type of moving beyond, even with consequences.
it requires finding that motivation to grow and change, not live in the past.
Or live in a self-imposed prison since carrying it seems easier in some ways than than letting it be known or released, and seeking more is damned difficult.
A lot of the time I feel like I should end it. Not that I want to, but that I should. No matter how much I tell myself I’ve changed, sooner or later I always revert. Which feels like an unforgivable risk to take in my case.
But then I know ending myself would have a terrible impact on my family, which feels unforgivable in it’s own way. So even if I want to do the right thing, I’m torn between social views of morality and my own judgement of the actual consequences for others.
As a preventative measure, it ends everything, including any positive thing you can do..
I’ve found even always isn’t as certain as we’d like to believe, more a prediction.
Caring can complicate life choices, yeah. but sometimes that can lead to adapting in ways that.. can allow for more peace of mind, without a double life as it were. I think everyone does something that has a negative impact on the people they care for, even when it’s not directed at them or intentional. Goes back to moving forward..
Rock and a hard place sometimes still has wiggle room, somehow. Just not easily known.
Yes, it would end any good I might do. But that takes me back to consequences vs. social morality. And the negative consequences of me staying might outweigh the positive anyway. It’s not certain, but I think such a high risk of reverting is probably unjustifiable for me to take.
The difficulty is in finding the motivation to do better when whatever I do, I’m doing something wrong just by being here. There’s no positive reinforcement in my mind. Either way, I’m a monster. It sucks all the meaning out of everything.