To not be as miserable, I think I need people in my life. Some are fine on their own, but I don’t think I’m one of them. I’m extremely introverted, but I still need people. I need to feel seen, to be known. I need some form of meaningful interaction with at least one other person on a daily basis. Otherwise, it’s like I don’t exist. I drift through life like a ghost. I don’t think it’s something I can think my way out of. I’ve spent decades trying to deny it, but I think it’s a fundamental psychological need.
This is a problem. Needing people is a problem. Needing someone to want to spend time with me is a problem. I’m not much fun to be around, or talk to. I’m not funny, or interesting. My personality is massively stunted in some ways, and very warped in others. I think I essentially closed myself off before adolescence, which prevented me from reshaping myself through social feedback. I never learned how to be likable. I feel like I’d essentially need a personality transplant in order to be decent company for anyone. All my instincts are wrong.
And that would be a huge rebuild for anyone in their mid-30s. To just abandon all your habits of thinking, your social instincts, your ways of approaching the world. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. But I think what’s particularly keeping me anchored to remaining this same miserable self is knowledge and shame of the things I’ve done. I can tell myself that I’m going to “start again” and be a completely different person, but I still get these constant reminders of the worst things in my past, and that part of my mind gets activated. And I know that no matter what I do in future, those things will always define me. And that part of my mind will always be there. So why bother? Why go to the trouble of trying to reinvent yourself, when you’ll always be carrying that weight?
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Yeah, it seems pointless. I wish I didn’t carry that weight, I wanna cut if off and move on. I wanna define the experiences that happen to me, I wanna control them. I wanna control what happens to me.
I just forced myself to wake up after one of the worst nightmares I’ve ever had. It’s like my subconscious was literally tormenting me for the things I’ve done. I was surrounded by people, humiliated and ashamed, and all of them were either indifferent or hated me. But somehow, some of them knew what I am, and they beat me to death. And then I became trapped as a ghost, punished over and over by other ghosts. And somehow I forced my way out of it. But that feeling is still lingering in me, of “fuck, I deserve this! I deserve to be in hell!”
The shame factor (which I know too well) can be turned around to your advantage. It can give you a purpose in life and even some rewards if you dedicate yourself to fixing the damage you caused. Or even better if you work to prevent those things from happening with others.
Example: Say you were an arsonist and your crime is burning down someone’s house. You could dedicate yourself to making peace with the victims and helping them replace what they lost. Or beyond that, you could become a firefighter and save strangers from suffering from “your” crime.
Sounds good in theory and I’ve had some (very small) success with this approach. I never quite atoned for my sins and the victims are long gone, but I volunteered with groups that helped eradicate the problem. Those were literally the only years of my life that made me feel alive, that made me want to keep living, that even made me feel good about myself.
Shame and guilt are complicated things, and we may never know why some people are consumed by these things while others can move on from their crimes, but if you are consumed like I am, I think that means there’s something inside you telling you that something must be done.
Suicide? Sure that’s an option I think about daily. But would that really end it? Let’s look at your dream. I don’t believe in much spirituality beyond the physical self, but if our consciousness/soul does outlive our body, I’m sure it will carry things like shame with it. Your dream spells it out: “I became trapped as a ghost, punished over and over by other ghosts.”
Sometimes I think life is our opportunity to end that ghostly punishment. Once we’re dead we probably can’t fix the damage we’ve done, so I guess we need to do it while we’re alive. That’s really the only thought that keeps me from ending it most days.
I think the issue with that for me is that the part of me that did those things is still there in my mind, constantly getting triggered. So, in your arsonist example, imagine if every time you went to work as a firefighter, it reminded you of how good it felt to start fires. It doesn’t feel safe for me to engage with it to that extent. I haven’t really substantially changed as a person – I just don’t do as bad things anymore. But I can still see myself reverting back to it, if unusually strong feelings got triggered.
I think the best I could do would be to try to earn more money at a regular job, and donate it to a relevant charity. Which might be a good thing to do, but I don’t think I’d ever feel like I’d “fixed” anything. It’s very hard for me to quantify how much real world damage I’ve done.
But all that might be an excuse. I imagine I’d feel pretty terrible to be forced to confront the harm done by people similar to me on a daily basis. And also like a massive fraud/hypocrite to be seen to be trying to reduce it. With the arsonist example, imagine you’re trying to catch other arsonists, while understanding how good it feels to start fires, and still relating to them.
The thought of my shame somehow being carried beyond death has terrified me for a long time. It’s probably my biggest fear. I don’t know how much I believe in it in the cold light of day though. It doesn’t feel like enough on its own to drive me to keep living in the hopes of finding redemption. My rational guess would be that my shame will die with the brain that harbours it. My shame is obviously convinced otherwise.
Oh I get it now. And you’re right, in that case even trying to do good could trigger you to do more harm. I have 1 or 2 of those skeletons in my closet too… And even with the hypothetical firefighter example, there’s a known phenomenon where some firefighters are secret arsonists. There’s a fine line between good guy & bad guy.
Your solution of donating while remaining distanced from temptation would be a good one, I don’t think it’s hypocritical at all… although I’m sure the general public would frown. Criminals who donate money to charity are never given a fair shake. But who knows maybe they’re just trying to do some good even though they can’t live by that moral code.
I think that leads back to your original statement: “I need some form of meaningful interaction with at least one other person on a daily basis. Otherwise, it’s like I don’t exist. I drift through life like a ghost”
We need people to keep us grounded, to keep us from reverting to bad ways. And the problem with being isolated is we don’t have anyone like that, no voice of reason or even just a distraction to keep us from going down the old path. One thing I’ve learned about myself (mostly with drugs but other vices too) is if you leave me alone where temptation exists, it’s just a matter of time before I do it.
Yeah, I think donating to related charities would be a good aim. I’ve only really started making enough money to support myself in the last year or so, and I’m still barely scraping by. But if I do ever earn enough to cover the basics, that would be a good use for any spare income. At least then maybe I could tell myself I’d tried to do something to help.
I think it’s definitely true that I feel more motivated to be a better person the more positive contact I have with others. When you have to look other people in the eye on a regular basis or even just imagine what they’d think of you, it makes you less likely to do certain things. And the worst things I’ve done have been when I’ve been most isolated and out of contact with others.
I think the issue for me is in addition to high levels of social anxiety and awkwardness, if I do become friends with someone, the inevitable reminder comes that they wouldn’t be able to accept the things I’ve done. Which leaves me feeling both deceptive and rejected, and needing to pull away. I need the social contact, but I can’t allow it too close.
For me, in terms of temptation, I’ve kind of formed a barrier around the worst stuff. It’s just inconvenient enough that it would require a real conscious effort to go back there, and I think I’ve sort of learnt it’s not worth it. But for anything else, it feels impossible. I have to set up endless hoops to make it harder, and even then, all it takes is one instance of no longer giving a fuck. Short of having someone else watch me 24/7 (which I couldn’t tolerate), it’s hard to see how I’ll make progress.
Memories used to make me cringe. Every now and then they would pop up and make me curse myself. My personality troubles me but memories don’t trouble me as much anymore. It is as though I’ve dissociated myself from me. It was someone else who did those cringeworthy things. Which is true too in some sense. Like the quote, “You cannot step in same river twice.” for river is not the same and you are not the same.
dissociated myself from *them*