"All the people in my family are good at anger management. At least, we manage alot of anger." -- JoL
I’ve been in a sort of retreat lately, although the first thing realized during this process was how ridiculous a misnomer is that term. How does one retreat from life and yet continue to live it? Is not the very step back and the evaluation of life a very integral and present part of living? At most, I have performed a regrouping, although I prefer to think I have simply inhaled -- and prepared to speak.
I have been ill since September, and while I am becoming adapted to the idea of yet another ailment from which there may be no escape, words of unflagging optimism never cease to annoy me. You don’t know if I will get better ever, so please stop putting your hopes and wishes on me. I am sick enough as it is without carrying around all of your optimistic deadweight. You people know who you are.
If I do get better, wonderful. If not then I must accept as I am today, illness and all. I have discovered I am unable to do this if I am constantly being told that things will get better soon, or someday, or whenever. The future is a vague and nebulous supposition and I am a creature of Immediates and Nows. While I cannot carry on as if not ill, neither can living be put on hold until wellness finds me. Life is now; live it with me at your choosing but do not torture me with your visions unless you are truly prescient.
Respect me for my wants and my views. That means what I decide about my own life goes. I will attempt to do my best to respect your right to live as you see fit in return.
I am not broken.
If I am broken, I do not want to be fixed.
If I do decide I am broken, fixable, and worth fixing, then I will do the repairs myself.
If I need help I will ask for it.
Only I can change me. You are powerless to do so. Deal with it.
The correct answer to “if only you would listen” is “if only you would shut up”. I am guilty of being a busy-body. This one thing I might attempt to change in myself. I might not. I am allowed to be a hypocrite. You do not have to enjoy it.
When you step in and attempt to fix me, you disrespect me severely. You tell me I am broken. You presume to know my worth better than I do, thereby discrediting my own powers of observation. You then infer I am a bad repairman and that my powers of communication are so low I am unable to cry out for help. You second guess my own judgment about the one thing I know best, myself.
Not only will your attempts fail, they are likely to backfire. You damage me. You encourage me to damage myself. To fixers I appear broken. To broken people I resemble a fixer. The hammer you carry does not magically transform me into a nail. Stop whacking me already.
There is nothing wrong with me besides my particular quirky mental and physical illnesses which make up the sum difference of me. If you fix them you may very well delete me. And I have chosen to be the only soul with the power of my erasure.
For those who wish to see me settled down, tough luck. I am not happy unless I have my spirit pitted against the wheel. I enjoy the brief touch of mayhem, the success of pulling a thread of order from total chaos and weaving a complicated tapestry from the snarled ball of yarn. I am sometimes a sadist and sometimes a masochist and sometimes a nihilist plagued with ennui. Or maybe art.
The correct end to the phrase “you would be happier if” is generally “people would leave me alone.”
I want to live the remainder of my life in as little pain as possible; with the exception of anguish and trials I inflict myself. Right now I am in a great deal of pain, both physical and mental. If any of it becomes too much to bear, I reserve the right to end my life in as painless a way as I can muster. You don’t have to agree with my decision. It is still mine to make. I refuse to listen to such arguments as ‘all life is sacred’. In my view, all life is only sacred when it doesn’t involve hurting and the inability to sleep. Death is my right, my open option. Please do not degrade that option by forcing me to beg for it when the time is past.
Until that time has come, allow me to live as I see fit, even if I see fit to live in a way you think is wrong.. even if I see fit to live in a way I know is wrong. If I want to pit myself against myself, what godlike power in your possession can stop me?
I cannot learn to enjoy your company unless you enjoy mine. Shut up.