Tag: bipolar disorder (page 1 of 8)

Dry-Dock

I’m a fan of CGP Grey’s analogy of “navigating the waters of the sea of sadness” in terms of making progress with regards to mental health. His video “7 Ways To Maximize Misery” is an incredibly concise and engaging guide to developing better self-care habits, as well as being an amusing exercise in reverse psychology. Thinking about the analogy in my situation, especially over the course of the last year in general and the last few months in particular, leads me to an inevitable conclusion:

My boat’s still leaking.

It’s not as bad as it has been, not by a long shot. I’m handling things in a more healthy manner, and I’m making progress in ways that are not insignificant. I’m aware of that, and I’m glad for it. At the same time, old and challenging emotions — guilt, shame, heartache, and grief — still swim in those dark waters around my boat. When they sense weaknesses in the hull that still exist, they bash against it, threatening to collapse everything I’ve managed to rebuild since I was released from the hospital last April.

It takes a few forms — a difficult conversation, a post on social media, radio silence after a message sent into the void. My heart aches for significant, mutual connections, the more the better. I mourn the good things from past relationships, even those that ended in disaster. Above all, I get battered port and starboard by twin kraken-tentacles of guilt and shame, constantly reminding me that it was my choices, rooted in unrealistic perceptions and unhealthy habits though they were, are the cause of all of this consternation, pain, and loneliness.

I’m healthier, and I’m glad for that. I’m still not healthy.

Being aware of that fact, frustrating as it can be because I’ve been working to be healthier for so long, reminds me of another fact. In a relationship, one partner’s unhealthiness can exacerbate the unhealthiness in others. If I am struggling with self-worth and looking to someone else to convince me that I am “good enough,” in those instances where I am really down on myself, the other person will begin to wonder if they are “good enough.” Thus, they turn to me for validation, and if they need validation, the thought follows that something I’ve said or done is taking away that feeling of validation, which makes me feel worse… It’s a self-sustaining, unhealthy cycle of ever-deteriorating emotions, and it causes damage to everyone involved.

That’s just one example, and it’s something that’s happened to me many times over the course of my life. Someone for whom I feel affection and/or attraction is feeling bad, or is in a bad situation, and I want to show up for them and use the things I have to offer to help them — at times, that’s taken the form of thinking I have to “save” them. I’m keenly aware of how unhealthy and unrealistic that outlook is, now more than ever. That doesn’t change the fact that I jumped into those situations without thinking things through, and once I was in them, I would stubbornly hold on to this idea that “yes, I can make a difference and I can make them better and I have to make this work because I said I would and if I don’t I’m a worthless failure.

I want to pause here to say something very important. This is not anyone else’s fault and I do not blame anyone else for making me feel these things. My damage is my responsibility to fix, and I’m not putting the onus on anyone else to take responsibility for it. I know that I’ve gotten better about those things because I no longer leap into action to tilt at some romantic windmill, or try to fix something that is neither my responsibility to fix, nor am I equipped to actually address. I have better boundaries, now — hell, I actually have boundaries. That’s good. That’s healthy.

I still have those cracks in the hull, though. And they threaten to collapse the whole damn ship all over again, if I’m not careful and mindful and make healthy choices.

That’s why I’m considering myself in ‘dry-dock’ when it comes to romance, intimacy, and relationships. As I’ve said to a few friends, the only person I’m interested in pursuing right now is myself. I need to have a more solid, actionable idea of what it is that I want and expect out of a relationship, rather than letting my goals in a relationship being defined by a partner. I’ve pinned too much in the past on needs and wants that I’ve perceived, some of which never even existed. I want to be able to hold my own ground where my needs and wants are concerned, rather than being ‘blown about by every wind’, a term from Melody Beattie’s excellent book Codependent No More.

When you get right down to it, the most important thing for me to focus on regarding recovery and moving forward is taking responsibility only for those things that are within my control, and choosing what things are important to me and when to act on those things. If I can’t control something — an ‘all hands on deck’ situation at the dayjob, my cat’s whining in protest of me trying set down a healthy schedule for her eating wet food, another person’s feelings or situation that are not my responsibility — I have to let go of the idea that I am somehow obligated to exert control over the situation in some way that is detrimental to myself, exacerbates the situation in some way, or both. We are always choosing, as Mark Manson says in The Subtle Art Of Not Giving A Fuck, and it’s a concept I’ve taken to heart in order to make better and healthier choices for myself. The more consistently and constructively I can make those choices, the sooner my heart will be out of dry-dock.

These things don’t operate on a timetable. I don’t expect to be “out there” any time soon. There are several fundamental issues for me to address — my overall goal of overcoming my codependency, moving forward in spite of my dual fears of failure and success, and actively engaging in self-care and not taking too much on myself to ‘stay busy’ as examples — before I will feel enabled to function in a healthy relationship. And if I am going to be in a relationship in the future, doing so in a healthy and constructive fashion consistently and compassionately is the goal. It would be a nice change of pace — the reason I’m focusing on addressing these fundamental issues is the fact that those things going unresolved for so long has resulted in just about every relationship I’ve been in up to this point has been unhealthy on one level for another.

I just don’t want to hurt anyone else that I love. I want to stop hurting, too.

So that’s where I am right now. I know it’s been some time since I’ve posted. I’m writing when I can, mostly in a Star Wars fanfic or in D&D backstories. As I slowly gain ground in recovery, I find myself focusing on a few small projects, I guess as a way of working myself up towards actually finishing the novel. I know I need to set more time to accomplish my goals instead of waiting around for inspiration to strike. Hopefully, with things improving at the dayjob and a bit more emotional stability in my personal life, bandwidth will open up so I can do that more actively.

And then, at some point, perhaps soon and perhaps not, I’ll get this boat pushed back out to sea. Because if I start to sink again, I don’t know if I’d be able to come back up, and I don’t want that to happen, to me or to anyone else.

The Importance of Being Honest

Let me kick this off with some honesty: I still maintain standards for myself that are, at times, unrealistic or too exacting. When I expect myself to be flawless in my Magic gameplay, or further along in my personal goals than is realistic, I will still get incredibly frustrated with myself. It can shift those goals from being SMART (Specific, Measurable, Actionable, for which I am Responsible, and Time-bounded) to being VAPID (Vague, Amorphous, Pie-in-the-sky, Irrelevant, and Delayed). As much as we might like to believe, they are rarely strictly one or the other. Much like ourselves, our goals can change in ways large and small based on life circumstances and shifting priorities. What is important is that we deal with these changes as they happen, accept that circumstances are changing, and make the most of the situation. That is a choice you can make. Just like choosing to be honest or not, or to do something helpful or harmful. It all comes down to choices.

Good and evil have nothing to do with inherent virtue, and everything to do with choices.

There really isn’t anything tangible to support the idea that human beings are born with a predisposition towards ‘good’ or ‘evil’. I think that brain chemistry and family history can be factors in what causes a person to make certain choices, and the environment in which one is raised inform a child as to what is permissible, expected, and taboo. These are merely factors; an individual is still responsible for the choices they make.

To be blunt: you’re going to make choices that are ineffective, and sometimes harmful to others. Even if a choice is to cut someone toxic out of your life, there could be ramifications that cause harm for others as a result. What I want to focus on, however, is the mistakes that we make. Either as a deliberate choice we make, or a snap decision that is ill informed or based on false assumptions, we make mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes cost us dearly, in money or opportunities. Other times, there is emotional or even physical harm as a result. These mistakes do not mean that you are ‘bad’ or ‘evil’. If you can recognize the mistake, and make efforts in good faith not to repeat it and to correct what is possible and healthy for you to correct, that is a choice that matters far more than any judgement leveled upon you by others. The fact of the matter is this:

You are more than the sum of your mistakes.

Too often we allow the mistakes that we have made to hold us back from being who we want to be, or existing in the moment that is right in front of us. We treat situations with trepidation or even terror in spite of the evidence that is presented to us that the situation we believe exists is not reality. Yes, there are people who will cling adamantly and irrationally to the mistakes they’ve made and the opinions they hold because, tragically, those perspectives have become part of their identity as they perceive it and it will take far greater influences than our mere observations to change that, no matter how adamant we might be. The people who show up and are honest, first and foremost with themselves, and do not hide that honesty behind an artifice or use it as an abrasive bulwark against anything approaching vulnerability, are heartbreakingly rare. To aspire to be that sort of person is to fly in the face of everything modern society encourages us to be — shallow, immediate, knee-jerk reactionary consumers with myopic perspectives easily influenced by social media and broad stereotypes.

I know this is true because it is the kind of person I used to be.

It caused a lot of problems and it hurt people. I’m sorry that ever happened. To this day, it breaks my heart.

In the past, I would have wallowed in that pain and used it for one reason or another. We can’t do that to ourselves, though. It isn’t fair, to us or to those around us. I’ve had to let that behavior go because of its inherent unhealthiness. To punch down on oneself repeatedly is to inform others that you are someone who accepts being punched down upon, to at least some extent. Consciously or not, people will exploit that. If you are the kind of person who just accepts the status quo in your own life, that being lonely or marginalized or a failure is “just how things are, so I guess I’m just boned,” that is a choice you are making. And it is a dishonest one. Because it’s not true.

You can stop disasterbating.

We make progress in stages. It happens one day, one hour, one step at a time. It’s slow going. And things can often make us hesitate, and sometimes trip us up entirely. I do still punch down on myself on occasion. More often, though, I find myself disasterbating. Be it at home when all is quiet and calm, or in the midst of a social situation full of clamor and camaraderie, my brain generates questions about how I’ll act, how others will react, what the results might be or could be or should be, and the next thing I know I’m frozen in place unable to act, or so frustrated that I’m beside myself with anger or anxiety. And then, when I recognize it, I can become frustrated with that, and it takes a lot of energy and effort to course-correct and get myself back into a wise mind state.

I wish it were as easy as just saying “stop” and then stopping. I know that’s not the case. I don’t mean to be reductive in giving advice, even to myself. Rather, in a way, I’m setting a goal. I’m putting myself in situations where I’ll have a better environment in which to practice the prevention of disasterbating, and removing myself from those where it’s more difficult. And all of this — the goals, the choices, the lessons — come from a place of honesty.

That’s the foundation upon all of this is based. There is literally nothing more important than that. It begins with being honest with oneself. To see what is within oneself, no matter how ‘broken’ something might seem, and to make choices as to how to effectively address those things. Past that is to be honest with how one sees the world. Do we accept the facts that are out there? Can we honestly address the challenges the world presents? Is it possible for us to let go of viewpoints and opinions that do not fit the facts, or do we cling to what’s been said before, what the prevailing sentiment is, where the bandwagon is going? The more honestly we can answer these questions, the more effective we will be in showing up in a way that features our best self, or at least the best self we can be in a given moment.

I can’t think of a person I’d want in my life who doesn’t want that. We can be better than we were. We can treat ourselves with more compassion, and encourage others to be more honest and more present. We can get there with help, and if for no other reason than so many have been there to help me, I’m here to help others. If I’m asked, if I’m able, I’ll show up to help.

Now more than ever, and for as long as I keep moving forward on this path of honesty and love and determination, you can fucking count on that.

The Challenge of New Choices

There are some things in our lives that we don’t get to choose. I didn’t choose to be born bipolar or bisexual. People close to me didn’t choose how they were born, either. Naturally, others will treat those things as if they are choices, saying things like “just try being the gender you were born with a little longer” or “you just need to do X and you won’t be sad anymore” or “have you tried not being gay?” I hope there’s no need for me to elucidate on just how awful that ‘advice’ is. And I don’t want to make this about that. I felt it was worth saying from the outset, however, that with all of the words that follow regarding choices, I’m focusing on how we as individuals face the responsibilities that are ours every day, and the choices we make regarding those responsibilities. And while I can’t choose to not be bipolar any more than another person can choose whether or not to have been born in a body that doesn’t match who they are, when it comes to how we handle our day-to-day lives and our relationships with others, every single one of us does have a choice.

Everyone has a choice. Everyone can, and must, choose who they want to be. It may be one large overarching choice, or it can be a series of small choices that lead us to being who and what we are. There can be obstacles that make a particular choice difficult, or perhaps even obscure certain choices. At the end of the day, we are what we choose, consciously or not. And when we choose, there are ramifications of that choice, for better and for worse.

One of the biggest challenges that come with making choices is when we’re faced with choices that are new to us, outside of our comfort zones, or challenge our identities. There’s a lot of advice that people will try to sell you about not being afraid to make choices. You’ll hear things like: “Follow your dreams!” “Be bold!” “Seize the day!” Not unlike some of the other advice mentioned above, such pithy platitudes tend to be the opposite of helpful. It creates and reinforces the erroneous idea that these things are simple and straightforward. Sometimes they are — “do I toast a bagel or pour a bowl of cereal” is a pretty straightforward choice. So many other choices, though, may seem simple, when in fact they deserve at least a moment’s pause and consideration before we commit to the choice, and accept the consequences.

Clear, consistent decision-making isn’t something that we’re born knowing how to do. It takes practice. The more you do something, the better you become at it and the more ease you experience while doing it. Making decisions is, in that way, not unlike training to play a sport or learning to speak a language. It has to be done over and over. As we grow, decisions we make contribute to who we see ourselves as being, and the course that our life begins to take. And the more contributions are made towards that self-image, of both our present and future selves, the more the decisions that follow tend towards those selves.

So what happens when we try to choose something new?

Some of us fall into patterns that are bad for us. Others learn to play it safe — stick only with what “works”, what is known, even if that way doesn’t really advance any of your goals or bring you closer to accomplishing anything significant. Whatever it might be, our brains forge neural pathways associated with a set or series of choices, and our thoughts and decision-making fall into those pathways. They have their own gravity. Like the most well-worn groove on an old record attracts the stylus of a record player, our perceptions and analysis of our choices are pulled into familiar ways of thinking that, in my experience, can often lead us away from a better path forward and into stagnation or, worse, a downward spiral.

This is why it can be downright terrifying when we come to the conclusion that we need to try something new. It threatens our world-view and our state of mind. Humans are highly adaptable; we can adjust to just about any situation. We can acclimate to high altitudes, working in zero gravity, travelling to the deepest part of the ocean, and so on. Our minds are no different: given a state of affairs existing for a prolonged enough period of time, and the human mind begins to accept it as ‘the way things are’. We create a narrative for our present circumstances, and assign ourselves a role within it. The days roll on. The groove gets deeper. Our choices almost seem to make themselves.

And then, when something changes, when an event occurs that shakes things up, or there’s a moment of clarity regarding what was a toxic or untenable or stagnating situation, the idea of choosing something different, something new, rattles our cage and sets our teeth on edge. It feels like we’re doing something dangerous, something potentially catastrophic, just thinking about it. Hell, even writing on the subject somehow feels provocative, and the thought keeps occurring that maybe I should just pitch the whole damn thing and watch The Expanse again instead.

Our brains will actively resist us because the thought patterns are new and unforged. They’re not familiar. They’re not “safe”. Even if the current situation is ineffective or unsustainable, it’s what we know, and therefore it is “safer” than choosing something new. We may even find ways to reason ourselves into continuing to make those ineffective or unsustainable choices when it’s clear that making a different choice is either morally correct or will yield better, more progressive results.

That’s the thing. It’s the most frustrating, challenging, and ultimately rewarding aspects of working to make better, healthier choices for ourselves. We get to define who we are. In spite of the aspects of our lives that are out of our control, regardless of happenstances of biology or circumstance that were defined before we took our first breath, every day, every moment, is an opportunity to make at least a small tweak in the course of our lives. Some of those tweaks are more difficult to make than others; it’s the difference between “I’m going to have the spicy thai thing instead of a salad today for lunch” and “I’m going to be honest about something I’ve been ashamed of for a long time.” One is just a potentially scary experience for your tastebuds and may require a lot of extra hydration; the other could throw your entire life as you know it into upheaval.

But it’s still your life.

And as long as you are alive, you get more and more opportunities to make better and better choices.

You’re not always going to get it right. Because in addition to being alive, you’re human. Unless this is being read by some nascent upswell from the Singularity hidden somewhere in Amazon’s servers, in which case, hi we’re pretty wasteful and petty little shits most of the time but a lot of us are really nice once you get to know us so please don’t wipe out our entire race thanks? Being human means you’re fallible. You’re imperfect. And that’s okay. If you were perfect, there’d be no room for improvement. You’d have nowhere to go. And you’d be just as inscrutable to us mere mortals as we would be to you. But since so much of consumer culture tries to sell us on this or that image of “perfection”, we often find ourselves acting out of fear that we will move further away from our particular flavor of that illusion if we make some new or different choice.

And yes, you might experience a setback in pursuit of whatever it is you personally want to achieve. Hell, a choice you make might involve giving up that pursuit entirely, because it’s an unsustainable journey, or the path which would lead you there is unhealthy for you or someone you love. There are consequences to every choice we make. Even if the choice you make is to do nothing! “Nothing will happen right now if I do nothing, but I’ll keep feeling shitty and miserable.” Guess what, that’s still a consequence. Sometimes, doing nothing is the right choice, and it can be very difficult to make that choice in a situation where you feel morally or otherwise compelled to do something to make a difference. That’s all part of the horror and wonder of the human experience: seeing your choices, sussing out the consequences, and then committing to your choice.

Stepping out of the pattern of choices you know into uncharted territory can be a harrowing, earth-shattering experience. There’s a reason why a lot of people don’t do it. But if we don’t make the choice to challenge ourselves — if we don’t make apply our thoughts actively to weighing our options, considering the potential outcomes, and then making a choice that will move us in a better direction, even if it scares us to do it — what about us, and our lives, and our world, will change?

Nothing.

You won’t change.

I won’t change.

Nothing will change.

Ever.

500 Words on Entitlement

Here’s a simple question: what do you feel you are owed?

If you put in hours and hours of your time at a job, you are owed compensation for that time, right? That’s how jobs work. If your employer says they don’t owe you anything, you have rights. You can sue their asses. You earned that money. You put in the time, therefore you deserve the pay.

When people talk about entitlement, often it’s in reference to someone who quite obviously hasn’t done anything to deserve what they are after. Here’s a quick example from Mark Manson’s The Subtle Art Of Not Giving A Fuck:

Ever watch a kid cry his eyes out because his hat is the wrong shade of blue? Exactly. Fuck that kid.


https://markmanson.net/not-giving-a-fuck

There are a lot of people who, in one way or another, don’t grow up past that stage of their lives. The most obvious example is the male-bodied Internet denizen who’s acting pissed because a woman isn’t giving him the time of day, let alone nude selfies. “Look at this pathetic motherfucker,” you might say. “He’s so entitled it makes me sick.”

I’ve certainly said something along those lines in the past. I’ve also, in my own way, acted like an entitled asshole. I’ve acted like the world at large owes me something. I felt the world owed me special treatment because I was born bipolar, got bullied, lost a sister, and basically got emotionally and mentally more and more fucked up as time went on.

I was different. I was special. I felt like dogshit and I hated myself. I sought to destroy myself and sabotage everything good to prove that I deserved nothing good, especially the love of others, who in my mind should hate me too, for being such a disgusting entitled hairy nerdy weird-ass male. I was so wrapped up in hating my entitlement that I didn’t realize I felt entitled to special attention, in this case having women take turns to spit on my grave. And while I feel that, for the most part, I’ve managed to shake off a lot of that bullshit, there’s a part of me that wants to convince me that how I feel makes me somehow a special snowflake.

I feel frustrated. I feel lonely. I feel that I could have done more to not fuck up my life.

To which I say, to myself: “Guess what, dumbass, so does everyone else. And if everyone else feels that way, you are not special.

Here’s the thing: if I’m not special, if how I feel isn’t different than how anybody else feels, what am I owed? What have I got to prove?

Not a fucking thing, is the answer.

Accepting that is more important than I can say. Along with my expectations, my other flaws, and my mistakes, once I accept this sense of entitlement, I can let go of it, and that leaves room for me to love myself.

You owe me nothing.

An Open Letter of Apology

In a previous post, I endeavored to explore and explain the root cause of the damaging, self-sabotaging, and toxic behaviors that lead me to my most recent hospitalization and the ramifications still being felt by those who were once partners, friends, and associates. I opened with a general apology, but did not dig into the specifics. That is an oversight that must be corrected, and that is the purpose of what follows.

It is not my intention to appear disingenuous due to the fact that I will not be naming names in what follows. The reality of the situation is that not everyone who has been on the receiving end of unjustified behaviors of mine is going to be receptive to an apology from me. There are those who will feel that apologies do not matter; that they are empty words. I can understand that perspective. That does not make it any less necessary for apologies to be offered when harm has been inflicted. Whenever possible, said apologies should be direct and, ideally, in person. And above all, apologies must be rooted in the facts and evidence regarding the incidents that are the topics of discussion.

Rather than lean into old habits of hyperbole and conjecture, my goal with this letter is to stick to the facts, examine what evidence I have available, and address my shortcomings and damage that I have caused to the best of my ability.  An editorial note before I begin: the journalistic and straight-forward approach I am taking may come across as cold or detached. However, to present these facts in any other way would, in fact, be a disingenuous way of going about doing so. Coating what follows in language like “believe me” or “with sincerity” would lean into an old, ineffective behavior rooted in a perceived need for validation. Fuck that. Facts are what matter, here.

And the basic, fundamental fact of the reason these apologies are necessary in the first place is this: the nature of self-sabotage, especially if the ultimate goal is self-destruction, means that damage to other individuals and relationships are inevitably left in its wake. This damage is the result of choices. Deliberate choices were made, in word and in deed, that harmed other people. Some of them were people with whom I was very closely associated — friends or romantic partners. Others were people one step removed from those close associations. These are choices that I made that go back decades. And as much as I might want to, as much as any of us might want to, we can’t go back to the past to correct our mistakes. Things will never be the way they were before, and it is unhealthy to strive for such an impossible goal. What is possible, and healthy, is to look at those past mistakes and take action that is necessary now to actively engage in an attempt to make things right.

I’d like to take the time to run down some of those mistakes I’ve made, and apologize for them specifically.

It is a fact that I contain a great capacity for love. But rather than be up-front about that capacity, learn how to healthily share it, and take the capacities and comfort level of those to whom I was attracted into consideration when communicating it, I hoarded love. I actively practiced deception, breaking promises and cheating. Be it due to that fear of abandonment, a lack of education and self-awareness regarding the nature of the structure of polyamory that’s best for me, embarrassment or another nameless dread, simply not knowing how to love myself or accept the love of others, or a combination of the above, I willfully and knowingly deceived my lovers. For that, for breaking hearts that I did and still hold as precious and even sacred, I am sorry.

It is a fact that I have been questioning my own sanity and the foundation of my actions for a long time. I have, in the past, encouraged others to do so. It can be healthy to check and correct ourselves when it is appropriate. To my great regret and shame, I have on occasion leveraged that language to avoid an honest discussion about my behaviors. I did so in a way that made others, usually women, question their own viewpoints or even sanity. That is gaslighting, by its textbook definition. For that, for not imagining people complexly enough, I am sorry.

It is a fact that those who are uncomfortable with their own behaviors can project those behaviors on to others. Knowing that many of my toxic behaviors could, and in some cases did, constitute as abusive, and unwilling to admit even to myself that I could act in abusive ways, I would project. I accused others, those directly involved with me and those who are friends or lovers of close connections, of being abusers themselves. I projected outward, rather than looking inward. I made the problems I was facing into problems of someone else. I transformed my internal disease and its symptoms into external enemies. Rather than face what was within, I said “This person is an abuser,” when I should have been recognizing and correcting those behaviors within myself. For that, for these false accusations and the pain and doubt they caused, I am sorry.

It is a fact that those who bear insecurities can seek attention or validation from others. As important as it can be to check oneself and receive validation as well as correction, to rely overmuch on the attention and validation of others is neither responsible nor constructive behavior. It puts too much weight on other people to do the emotional labor of the individual. It’s never a bad thing to ask for help, but one must be committed to doing one’s own work when nobody else is around. I failed to do that, and counted too much on others to lift the weight that is mine to carry. For that, for making far too many conversations all about my problems, I am sorry.

It is a fact that human minds can often reach for the simplest solutions to a problem or question. Too often an individual will Occam’s Razor their way into a conclusion that does not include all of the facts, or does not take the perspective or experiences of another individual into account. Especially when it comes to thoughts born of anxiety, jumping to conclusions can lead to ineffective or even toxic decisions or behaviors. When your anxiety tells you that everyone secretly hates you and is eventually going to abandon you, you may jump to the conclusion that you might as well accelerate that process to get it over with. That was a conclusion I jumped to on more than one occasion. For that, for making assumptions rather than seeking clarification and facts, I am sorry.

It is a fact that a codependent or “people-pleasing” individual may not know when to say “no.” The over-reliance upon others mentioned above, as well as unhealthy attachment or expectations, may prompt an individual to be more permissive than is healthy when it comes to the requests or needs of others. They will step over their own boundaries, should said boundaries be defined in the first place, and move into ultimately damaging territory to meet a perceived need, or fulfill a commitment that is somehow implied where none might exist. For my part, I would too often adopt the notion that I had to please a primary partner and see to their needs “no matter the cost,” even if something I was doing to fulfill that was hurting me. I would act as if my needs or wants did not matter. That became a gateway for many of the behaviors I have already addressed and apologized for. I weakened myself, perhaps deliberately on a sub-conscious level, in the name of doing perceived good. For that, for not defining my boundaries and harming myself with a thousand small well-intentioned cuts, I am sorry.

I have, in the aforementioned previous entry on this platform, delineated the explanation and motivation behind these shortcomings and sins. That information is still available. They are relevant facts in the matters at hand. Yet, without the apologies and the commitment to get and be and do better going forward, it is mere bloviation, weightless words on the wind. In the past, I have offered apologies and stated a commitment towards recompense. While these sentiments were sincere, I failed to follow through, choosing to scratch the surface rather than dig deep. Instead of repairing damage done, it pushed me towards deeper recesses of self-sabotage and self-destruction. For that, for merely appearing to do the work and ultimately making things worse, I am sorry.

Every one of these mistakes that I have laid out was caused by damage and shortcomings within myself. No other individual bears the blame for them. While there may have been triggering situations or interactions that involved others, the ways in which the individual responds to triggers is solely the decision of the individual. It is through experience, education, and examination that an individual can cultivate better and healthier responses to triggers, and that has been and will continue to be the focus of my therapy and my work. I can no longer be satisfied with scratching the surface to deal with immediate emotional crises, let alone congratulate myself and prompt others to congratulate me for such shallow work that evidence has shown is detrimental to true progress. I must instead dig deep into the root causes of my flaws to discover the means to bring joy into the lives of those around me, rather than endanger them through my hubris and self-hatred. I want to learn to love myself, the way I love others.

My intent in all of this is to deeply explore and repair my internal damage for my own sake. While making the apologies above is an important part of contributing to my healing process, as well as the healing process of those affected by my actions, the fact is that you might not care. It might not matter to you. That is understandable. Feelings of hurt and betrayal and shock and disappointment are justifiable in the face of my previous, toxic behaviors. The fact that my explanations, and my apologies, may never reach their intended audience is unfortunate, but it is part of the consequences of my actions. I do not have the right to make the decision regarding the reception nor the acceptance of these apologies. I am sorry for my behavior, but I do not get to make those apologies to certain people for one reason or another. I just hope that those people are okay.

Trauma is not an excuse for toxic behavior. There is no excuse for abuse, full fucking stop. Even if one is abusing oneself, it is an abhorrent behavior. And there are always ramifications. I began this writing by saying we need to stick to the facts and examine the evidence. The fact is that when we set out to harm ourselves, we inevitably harm others. The evidence of those hurt and shocked and disappointed in the social circles on the other side of the bridges I burned directly speaks to that fact. I am unable, nor do I have the right, to walk up to each and every individual in those circles and say I’m sorry. But if an opportunity presents itself to do so, I will. Because I am sorry. I feel guilty and remorseful. And I’m working to ensure these things never happen again, to myself or to anyone else, to the best of my ability.

Penance does not have to be some grandiose public display. It does not have to be self-flagellation or self-isolation. Penance can, and perhaps should, take the form of rehabilitation, the difficult and deliberate work of kicking over the rocks of one’s soul and confronting that which crawls out from underneath. I will never ‘defeat’ the ‘enemy’ that is my trauma and the aberrant thoughts that dwell in my Shadow as a result of that trauma. I must learn to live with and above those constructs. And I will spend the rest of my life doing so. While those harmed and alienated by my previous behaviors may never forgive me — while you may never forgive me — the fact remains that I owe it to you, and to myself, to ensure that my life is not ultimately “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

Thank you for your patience. I hope this finds you well.

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