It’s not the pain that gets to me, I’m somewhat numbed to that, it’s the hope that keeps me going into unpleasant situations. I think that I haven’t been honest with myself about desireable outcomes. I tell myself I want to move on, but do I? I am seriously bummed that my (possibly former) employer didn’t reach out to me today. I started applying for new jobs, already got the first rejection back, and I’m remembering how much I despise job hunting. It’s all pleasuring unattractive people, I know that it’s not supposed to feel like prostitution, but trying to talk a company into hiring you is remarkably similar in all the worst ways to flirting. “Hey, I have emotional and intellectual assets you need, and I’ll do anything you want”
My therapist says that I swing wildly to extreme emotions. She prefaced it by saying it would make me mad… and I’m not so much mad, as I am confused. The problem I have is that with my desire for precision I do not use hyperbole, and that sets me apart from the rest of the species. So to convince others that it is awful and needs action I have to sell that to myself, hence wild emotions. No one is helpful in response to reasonable caution.
I keep coming back to something I thought about last week; Where should I go to get better treatment? The job market for me is like dating for a survivor of domestic violence; I’m quite sure that somewhere out there is an employer who is less demanding and pays better, but that isn’t what I attract. Honestly it would be better if my wife worked and I looked after household stuff, that’s what most men that I meet that I don’t instantly despise are doing.
But I can’t commit to anything, which I guess is supposed to mean that I still have some healing to do. Great, not like I was seeking out a different life or anything (passive aggressive sarcasm)
I just, don’t want anything. At the same time I understand that being alive means doing something to justify it. My options fail to excite me. See? THAT’s how I react to things. No one is willing to offer help to “Oh dear, I seem to have broken my leg, if it’s not too much trouble can you call an ambulance?” Yet if you simplify as if you are dealing with a toddler “OH SHIT” prompting them to ask “what?” “MY FUCKING LEG!” “what about it?” “PAIN!” what should I do “AMBULANCE”. See, people like to be involved. They’re quite egotistical. And thus I have constructed my entire social presentation to try and motivate other humans.
I’m sick of dealing with people that I am incapable of respecting. The problem is that in my day to day life, I meet so few people worthy of respect. Then the rare kind one among them will try and comfort me, and because of my overextension I’ll bite their head off, because their faith and hope are based on entirely imagined optimism that people will behave reasonably. AND THAT, is hyperbole, because the problem isn’t a complete void regarding reasonable people, the problem is that irrational and frustrating people seem to dominate. Hence my irrationality. Is it still mental illness if it’s an adaptive trait used to achieve specific goals? Probably.
The whole mental health field is unscientific as hell. Large swaths of it are either people barely justifying their existence, and a large amount of the remaining ones are new age frauds. Yes, competent ones exist, but they’ve occupied all the space in the profession for competent scientists, which are damn few.