Jan 13

 A little less anxiety than yesterday. Slowly slowly coming down in those critical middle of the early hours / wake up cortisol spikes.

Therapy yesterday. We talked through the anxiety. The thing my friend had said. For the umpteenth time it circled back to childhood.

The shrink wanted to know what it felt like having someone ponder if my issues were just "normal".

Invalidating. Dismissing. Belittling. Not heard. Not seen. The opposite of what happens in therapy.

The shrink figured this to be the case.

I made sure to point out I knew my friend didn't mean it that way. But. I also hashed out this week the ever widening gap across an alarming number of things of me intellectually knowing a thing and yet not being able to do fuck all with it. The shrink wanted to know exactly what I meant by this - or rather, what the non intellectual bit was.

Tricky. Some of it is emotional. Some of it is lived. Consequences. In the end I settled on a neat summary.

It is the difference between the academic and the practical.

Knowing a thing in the classroom does not make you an expert in practice. Or. Something like that.

Almost everything I am encountering I completely fucking understand. But convincing the other bits of me to be rational, or understand.... yeah. No.

The shrink circled back to the invalidating thing.

Was that a thing I regularly encountered. They were asking if my reaction was an open wound.

No I said. Pretty much everyone in my life is sweet of nature. They are understanding and sympathetic, even if in fact they don't understand what's going on with me. They can see I'm suffering. There is no dismissal. People are nice to me I said. Though I don't really understand why. Again. Intellectually I understand. Emotionally. I don't. Why. Would someone give a shit. Or care. Or like me. Or say nice things. 

And why's that said the shrink.

Because. Of course. I don't count. I don't deserve consideration. Why would someone do that.

And what's that reaction said the shrink.

Clearly. Taught in childhood.

Yes said the shrink. 

Sigh.

But the shrink still thought there must be something there that made me react to being invalidated. Possibly the asthma near death incident ?

No. Nope. Doesn't register that way for me I said.

Ok said the shrink. Well. Maybe not then.

Well. I said. There is one thing. Like that. What you're fishing for. I can't remember if I told you or not.

As it turns out. I had not.

I related the whole, ill as a child, could not stand up, legs didn't work, and the angry dismissal I had faced from my dad for "fucking about". I said that definitely stuck in my head. He was angry I couldn't stand. And I genuinely couldn't stand. I was slumped on the floor, useless legs. And he just loomed over me and shouted at me.

I wasn't scared. Just. Confused. This is new. Why aren't my legs working. But also. My dad didn't believe me. He thought I was lying. I didn't know what to say to convince him I was genuinely struggling.

So I was left there on the floor. My dad stomped off downstairs with a threat to me to come downstairs.

So. I crawled to the stairs. I remember it. And then step by step, bumped my ass down the stairs. 

By the time I got to the bottom some blood or something had returned to my legs. And leaning on the railing I wobbled to my feet, wobbled off and flopped into the living room.

The shrink, once again, looked at me with a horrified expression.

Oh.

I grinned.

You're laughing about it the shrink said.

Well I said. I mean. It is funny. It's darkly comedic. If someone was writing a horrible comedy.

The shrink was impenetrable, but, it was pretty clear, they didn't exactly agree.

My reaction, said the shrink, when you're tell me that, is I want to cry.

Oh. Yeah ?

When I think of what that little boy went through, it's horrendous.

Hmm I said. I mean. Listen. I get it. No one is winning any parent of the year awards there. It's. Not good. But I Said. When I think about it, and don't get me wrong, it IS bad. I don't get any super red flags about it.

That's normal to you said the shrink.

Yeah I said. It's. On trend. For my parents. Absolutely. But. Don't get me wrong here. If this happened to someone else, I would absolutely not tolerate this. I would kick down the fucking door. Well ok. I don't have the energy anymore. Well ok. I would probably overburn. kick down the door. Intervene. And then crash out. The choices my parents made are not mine. I would not do those things. I don't agree with it. At the same time. It's me. So. It doesn't matter. It's ok. Not a red flag.

The thing is said the shrink. Regardless of everything else. There is no compassion there.

Compassion I said. Yes. Exactly. Exactly. Good word. Yes ! This is it. In a nutshell. There IS no compassion. Ever. At all. Not once. That is a good word for my parents. Zero compassion. If anything I Said. Compassion is a dirty word. It is a weakness. But yes. Compassion. Exactly. No compassion there.

I then reflected. I Suppose. That this is in the same bed as "neglect". I air quoted the word neglect.

See I said. I still can't get it out straight. It's "neglect". Not neglect.

That's ok said the shrink. We can call it "neglect" and not neglect.

I continued. If someone did have compassion. It would be very hard to also neglect someone. On the other hand. If you are neglectful. You're probably also lacking compassion.

It's going to be just about impossible to have compassion and neglect someone said the shrink. Yes.

So I Said. They are related.

Ho hum.

Sigh.

Back here again.

I related that story to my friend.

He too was horrified.

I mean. Ok. Can. The people with these kind of smarts all stop reacting in the same way. It's like. It's genuinely bad.

Each one of these confirmations is like another nail in the coffin. Relentless.

It's also clear what a wide fucking gap of tolerance I have. That what I see as normal. Is very far from normal. And that when I properly explain and relate my experiences, people "in the field" are horrified.

Sigh.

My friend once again pondered what on earth my parents were about. He said it was made very clear with his parents that they understood their responsibility as parents. As the adults. About compassion. And support. And all that shit.

But somehow. My parents never got that memo. It's like he said, you didn't count. Weren't there.

Well I said. Funily enough. When the shrink was turning this over I, kind of jokingly said, that well, kids are expendable assets right. Collateral. Cannon fodder. The shrink gave me a look. I mean I said. On a victorian scale. You know. Have 10 kids. 3 survive. Call that a win. Grin.

No.

No also said my friend. Fucking hell.

I mean I am kind of joking. But also not.

All of us. Me and my siblings. Were an inconvenience. Always an inconvenience. And that was communicated clearly. Look at my sisters reaction when I said that to her. She lit up. Angry. Agreement. YES. YES. That's all WE WERE. AN INCONVIENCE.

I said that had hit a nerve. Clearly.

Anyway.

Back with the shrink.

I said. That I struggled a lot. And. The one thing Christmas had done. Was show me how bad I had become. I was worse than I had ever been. Visiting down south. It was inescapable. And horrible. And kind of soul destroying. It was a lesson I didn't need.

And.

I just wanted to die.

I just. Want. To die.

Sad.

The shrink did not push back. Didn't reject me. Didn't invalidate it. Didn't fill it in with, have you tried going for a walk. Or just cheering up.

The shrink acknowledged it.

It is hard. You are in pain. I see a person in pain. I am sorry for you. And I know you are hopeless. But I have hope for you.

I am fucked up I said. Broken.

I anticipated the one, two, pause, and the rejection.

I know I said.

I am not broken.

But I am I said. Really. What use am I anymore ? What am I if nothing but a burden ? A soak of resources. If I Was a horse. You would have shot me by now.

Your only worth is to be useful then said the shrink.

Look I Said. It's part of the deal. It's evolution. Someone has to be the farmer. If everyone decides to not go farming, then no one eats. It's part of survival. You have to pull your weight. You have a calorific requirement. If you can't meet it. Then. I made a squick noise and pulled my thumb across my throat.

I'm not sure society is entirely that said the shrink. We look after the infirm. Also. You're not a farmer.

I laughed. Sure. I know. What's the quote. Judge a society by how it looks after its elderly. And look. I agree. I agree we should do that. Just. Not for me.

I said I didn't know where I would fit into a society anymore. What purpose. What am I ? I am at best like a fucking houseplant. Sat in a corner. Demanding watering. And maybe sometimes I can answer a question. Like an inferior organic version of an AI.

We kinda left it there somewhere.

I Was very sad.

Always the irony. I can crack a joke. And laugh.

And be so very very sad.

One thing came up this week as well. About accepting help. And the inability to do so. I explained the help I had refused at Christmas. And the risk I took driving home. Stupid. Idiotic. But. I could not accept help. I told the shrink about my conversation with myself. About that not being a smart move. It would be character building. I am not sure I need any more character building. Risking a car journey. With a fucky car. On boxing day. With a long term compromised health issue. On a day where you are not good in that cycle. Is stupid to the point of possibly being existentially stupid. If I had broken down. Stranded for 6 hours. There is a non zero chance I do not come out of that. One of those stupid little accidental kind of deaths. Like falling off your ladder. Fucking conked out, wiped out, stranded far from any support. Regardless. This is what we're doing. Drive.

That voice is very strong isn't it. The one that makes that demand just to do it.

Yes I said. Very. Strong. It is. Part of my inner critic. 

I said perhaps one good thing was that at least I was honest. I can say I am an idiot. Idiotic for risking that. For not accepting help. Why would you do that. That's not smart. It's dumb. I was lucky. Not clever. An idiot. 

The inner critic is going to like that anyway said the shrink. It gets to do what it wants - drive. And then call you an idiot. Which it likes doing.

Yeah. But I said. There is a rationality to that determination of being an idiot. It's not just a mean inner critic. It is stupid. Objectively. I do not shy away from the truth. From the burn, the pain. I will stand in front of a horrible truth and be burned to the ground for it. I. Get. That's. Not conducive to being a human. It is brutal. I get, that you're not supposed to do that as a human. It's too much. Too much truth. We are not designed to hold that kind of level of objectivity. But. Eh. I do. So. There is a point there. About being an idiot. It is difficult because sometimes, the inner critic AND the rational scientist join sides. They both agree. You. Are an idiot. Hard.

The shrink acknowledged it and then asked why can't you accept help.

Because. I don't want to be a burden. I can't be a burden. I don't deserve that consideration. Don't do that.

And why's that.

Well. It's going to be the childhood thing again isn't it.

Yes said the shrink.

I get it I said. All of it.

Go on then said the shrink. Explain it.

It is because I have had to adapt to survive. This was what I learned as a child, that I cannot make myself a nuisance. I cannot ask for help. Or be a burden. Or require any support or effort. Because if I do I put myself in danger. It becomes an unsafe space. So I learn not to do that.

As an adult. When I get an offer for help. I interpret that as being pushed into an unsafe space. I am requiring something. An effort. This is dangerous. This puts me at risk. I will be punished. And so. I react accordingly. I am being asked to go into an unsafe place and I say no.

Exactly said the shrink. I couldn't have put it better myself.

I get it. I repeated. 

How strong is that asked the shrink.

Yeah. I thought about this. I think I said, that if I was strongly pushed, I would push back. I would push back hard. No. NO. Because. It's that unsafe space. Danger !

It's. Not good. I can see. The damage there. 

Difficult.

I can see in me such a horrible deep vein of damage. That horrendous lack of self worth. Of tolerating abuse. It is a pattern that has repeated. I tolerated Hazel abusing me - oh so familiar to what my mom also used to do.

When I am forced to look at it properly. To properly weigh it. Particularly if I externalise it and imagine it was someone else. It's. Horrific. I am beginning to understand why the shrink looks at me horrified some of the time.

I. Don't really know what I can do about it. Like it or not. It's me. My path. It's. Done.

Anyway.

Next week. The shrink said something about picking something up again. I can't remember what it was. The shrink wanted to acknowledge how hard it was for me to attend the sessions. I didn't tell them I didn't want to go again. Hard.

We talked a little about it. I said it was a net positive. At this point. I am clear. It absolutely is a net positive. It is good for me. It does work. And. I said. I trusted them.

I trust you.

And I do not say that lightly.

I know said the shrink.

So next week. I suppose.

I am lost and broken. Still here. Still one foot in front of another. No clue. At times the demons ride me into the floor. It is absolutely not a surety, than in any given week, I don't snuff out. Always. That edge. I had it on returning from the shrink. Went to the bathroom. And as I exited. I glanced at the bath. Imagined lying it.

Just do it.

A voice whispered.

Always there.

A knife. Blood. A bath.

I looked away from the bath and walked into the kitchen.

Sigh. 

Sometimes I think it would sad if I died. I think, maybe, perhaps, many people would be sad. And on the other hand. I think. It would be finally over. No more misery. No more fuckery. Just. Relief. Gone. Dead. Silent. Peace. 

As ever of late. Have a screenshot or two. Voxel world. This time with multithreading dynamic mesh loading and fancy seam stitching. And a quick and dirty day night cycle.