day52 - self inflicted
dear luci,
i have noticed that some people1 who have known a lot of pain in their life for various reasons tend to become uneasy when things get too quiet. There is some trite observation that follows this along the lines of "When you've only known cruelty, the opposite becomes so foreign that you can't imagine kindness existing without a catch". In Pokemon terms, "It hurt itself in its confusion!"2 What do you do when the risk of pain weakens, or no longer exists, externally? You begin to hurt yourself. Not necessarily physical harm, although let's not lie and say that's not a thing, but emotional harm. You build up these walls in response to something that necessitated walls, and suddenly you realise the moat with the crocodiles don't just defend against invaders: they chase away visitors.
It's very comforting to imagine yourself as a wounded little animal. Another trite observation: we project some kind of ultimate, superior morality upon certain animals. So not only is it comforting, it's also vain. You're casting yourself as this infallible, fragile little creature neglected by the cruelty of nature. But is that really what you're doing? Or is that just the self-loathing firing up again? Isn't that just a remnant of the little voice that wants to pathologise your every thought as narcissistic? Maybe casting yourself as the wounded animal reflects something far more simple: a genuine desire to be cared for and to feel like you deserve it.
So of course you have to take up the mantle of judge, jury and executioner if nobody else is willing or able. Before you were being held prisoner. Now the warden is long dead. You're only staying in your cell because you've convinced yourself you're not cut out for anything else.
I'm getting to the point here.
"No, you clearly don't know who you're talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I am the danger. A guy opens his door and gets shot, and you think that of me? No. I am the one who knocks."
- cancer meth guy, breaking bad
Look into yourself and ask the question-- am I the danger? Put aside your self-hatred. Put aside your guilt, your shame. What's going on here? Who or what is causing me this pain? It won't always be you, so if you land on "No", I believe you. But if you realise the answer might be closer to "yes", we ought to chat. Let's assume from this point that you've answered yes. Why are you hurting yourself? Out of habit? If nobody will, I better do it. Is that your philosophy? Do you want this to stop? Or are you content in your suffering? Is there any part of you, however small, that desires to be a part of the world? That desires to reach out to other humans?
It's the reason I'm alive today. So if you can, practice. It won't work 100% of the time, every time, but just take care of yourself a little. Pretend you care what happens to you. Reach out. Put yourself in a vulnerable position. Open yourself to the possibility that one day, this will have hurt you. Please, God, find reasons to keep going.
If any of this is particularly incoherent, please don't mind. I wrote this while dozing off.
Sweet dreams Luci <3
And myself. But I hate saying this. it sounds like self-righteous bullshit, like I have some kind of martyr complex.↩
I think of this line very often when trying to describe the way BPD episodes can work. It's very flail-y, irrational, like the movements of an animal trying frantically to wriggle out of a cage.↩