It’s been a terribly long time since we last spoke, isn’t it?
And we were doing so well, too. On a roll, interacting, exploring new avenues, gaining new insights, looking at possibilities.
And then I stopped writing
For sure, it is true: I did (and do) need to balance my thoughts. I do want to make sure I choose the exact right words. It’s so important to me to to come across clearly. I’m writing a blog. Not freely associating to the delight of a psychoanalyst who already gleefully sees in his and my future many more years of twice-weekly counselling to pay for that second home’s mortgage in Ibiza.
I need some time to mull, to reflect, to see all sides, to build my argument, my case, my piece.
And, of course, my wall.
Until I’m ready (ready dready)
Yes, I can see myself turning inwards again, safely behind the confines of my own mind.
And as much as I know that’s about as lovely, warm and hospitable place as, say, Damascus, Karachi or Duivendrecht, there are two distinct benefits to being there:
- It is infinitely preferable to answering that very simple, so very fair question: “what’s on your mind?”
- It creates the illusion of dynamics. “I’m still thinking about it; therefore it is still in flux”.
The second consideration is the most insidious one, as it isn’t true in any meaningful sense. It’s avoidance. A fear of arriving at conclusions. Or an inability to.
I started this whole damn exercise to finally try and be as truthful as I can.
And I am getting stuck. Because there is not just only one truth.
Sure, the lack of sleep has been wreaking havoc with my mood and thoughts.
But even then everything I write -I had many false starts now for this particular post- seems abstractly confusing, convoluted and all over the place.
I said it before, I’ll say it again: I will not, I shall not let my thoughts devolve to the quagmire of the generically depressed “Dear diary. Took my pills today. Didn’t magically solve my loneliness again. Nobody understands me. Could potentially be because I speak Mongolian, and mostly not out loud. Think I’m gonna go have some tea and cuts of me.” -kinda blog that really goes down like Summer Nyte on the better part of Nasville in 2005 (do not Google that. Especially when you’re at work. Instead here is a lovely cartoon about rainbows ), garnering a circle jerk cult of self-proclaimed woke knights who enjoy nothing so much as joining in together in an echo chamber for a lovely affirmative habituation hornpipe.
I want to rend the veil.
I do not particularly want to see what is behind it, but I need to see what makes me tick, where the gaps are, what I can do to change things.
But I overestimated my level of preparedness.
See, when the veil is rent, it’s all of the truth you see.
Not neatly one level at a time. Nicely organised so I can work my way neatly through the patterns.
No. All of it. At once.
One of the friends I hold in highest esteem told me it would be like this: it’s a not a clearly cut nice little process working through the levels one by one, only dealing with a deeper level once it presents itself after dealing with the top one.
Rather it is confusing and crippling. Making it almost impossible to start. Because where do you start? (And that for me of course facilitates that wonderfully obtuse fail-safe: ‘if I don’t know where to start, I don’t have to at all.
Right?’)
Her stark analysis gave me the nudge to at least write again.
I’m well aware it’s not my strongest entry. But -at least to me- it’s an important one, as it shows me how scattered my current sense of self is, and how hard that makes it to gain any kind of lasting, meaningful understanding of anything at all I am doing.
Love is all you bleed
Used to honestly think (romantically though rather naively) that a mainstay of my truth was that I am driven by love.
That I was defined by the love I held for others and theirs for me. A network of positive energy, if you will, with at the centre, of course, a loving (romantic) relationship. Give and ye shall receive, one good turn deserves another, and all that.
It is still true though!
I am a huge believer in and practitioner of random acts of kindness, second chances and paying it forward. I truly think it’s the better way to live and interact.
But another far more disturbing and personal truth is that I am incredibly, neurotically bad at being alone (not solitary! I love solitary. I really mean alone.).
And another, even more painful truth is that this whole “nice guy being kind” schtick I describe above ties in directly with the lengths I will go to to keep the person I am with happy.
Anything to keep them from leaving.
Anything to from spurning me. Rejecting me.
Another dear friend of mind, going through a very difficult separation process, confided in me that her husband would give her more and more room to manoeuvre away. Moving out of the house: fine. Seeing other people: all good. Everything, anything to keep her happy. Her happy is his happy.
And the sad truth is it made her feel even more distant, even almost despise him for it.
Yet, had he put his foot down and drawn a line in the sand, be a man about it, the decision could only have gone one way: it would have meant a divorce.
So right now, in the saddest, most meaningless way, he “wins”. Because at least in theory, she is still with him.
It could have been me she was talking about.
I did the exact same thing last time, honestly believing if only I showed enough flexiblity towards her goals and ideas and needs, things could only work out. Sure, go out with others. Of course, sex isn’t just something within a single relationship. Naturally, the very idea that for a relationship to work you have to put in some effort is silly.
I agree. I understand. I concur. Totally. Utterly. Completely.
And I would not tell her that at night I would weep on the floor.
Ruthless Truthless
I don’t think I am a classic “Pleaser” per se (I hold personal opinions far too strong for that), but I do think I am likely neurotic. And desperately afraid.
I don’t know.
What I do know is that I find myself (from the very bottom of my heart and gladly so), dispelling myself and crossing any personal boundary for fear of losing people. For fear of losing you.
- I’ll go to your party (the thought of having to talk to strangers and being the expected life of the party, or conversely standing in a corner pretending to admire your art and talking to the cat is sending me in a spin now. I’ll muster all courage to go. But I know I will be exhausted when I’m home).
- I’ll tell you I am more than strong enough to take any potential rejection (I’m not. I’m NOT! PLEASE SHIT FUCK GOD, DON’T GO!).
- I will adapt to your rhythm (because if I do not, we will drift apart).
- I will read the books you read (or you will think I am disinterested or worse: uninteresting).
You being happy, is the one thing that makes me happy. And that is the most sickening, self-effacing, self-denying truth of all.
But, as I started out saying, that may be (I don’t know) the biggest truth…but it is by no means the only one.
Right now, I am truly out of my comfort zone because I genuinely do not care about (practical) consequences. I’m doing everything I never thought I could or would do (dating, putting myself out there socially, interacting with complete strangers, spontaneously travelling all over the place, trying (very) new things), and I love it.
And of course, I am scared the whole time. I do these things, with exhilaration, but with adrenalin of a fox being hunted. Around the corner there is a hound. And a man with a rifle.
I love, absolutely love seeing my people. My family. My friends. I tear up just thinking about how happy it makes me.
And the effort is draining. After every single event I am tired beyond belief. I literally (yes. Literally. Not metaphorically) need to change my shirt from sweating so much every time. But I cannot go without. It’s gotta be a little how an addiction feels?
I want to live. I seriously, genuinely want to live. Life is stunning, beautiful, amazing. I see it every morning. I love walking through my city, seeing people in the sun, enjoying their life, and their life force is mesmerising. I have the oddest tendency to walk up to strangers and tell them they’re awesome. Life is a marvel!
And I honestly need to put a definitive end to the quite unbearable, continuous pain for which I find increasingly relief seems out of reach. It’s not an emptiness. It is a panic. A terror. An almost physical feeling of being eaten alive without a damn thing that can be done other than to block it away. Run away. Focus away. But I can’t keep that up indefinitely.
Every single one of these often completely contradictory truths is valid.
And that inner confusion and lack of consistency may go a long way towards explaining two things:
- I have a hard time putting my thoughts down at the moment.
But, more importantly: - It’s why the very bulk of people I met (dearest friends of many decades or acquaintances with keen insights) at one time or another always muse “Mr. H. Great guy…but you never really know what is going on”
Dr. Yucky and Mr. H.
Really I should have realised this sooner.
The reason is that I quite literally have no (integrated) sense of self to present with any level of consitency!
“Wonderful to see you, but it hurts!” “Great being here, but it’s killing me!” “I love you but I am terrified you’ll deny me!”
Sure, I can mask this to some level and for some time as I have a great number of (actually pretty awesome) traits to play with (smart guy, funny. Modest, too. Brilliant mind. Fantastic lover. Drinker of rum. Connaisseur of fine frikadel speciaals).
But clearly…
Well, Abe said it first.
This exposure is by no means easy.
More than when I started, every word is now like scratching at a sore. What little relief I gain is massively offset by a fear that brings me lower than an insect: that those who (purport to) know me by my weaknesses, smile knowingly and maybe a little sadly think: “see? I was right all along”, and move on, knowing that it was the right choice to do so.
This infuriates me. I want to shake them. Shout at them! “You don’t know me. No one knows what it’s like. NO ONE COULD POSSIBLY FEEL…”
Yeah.
Right.
I ain’t so special. Of course they know.
Not everything, for sure. But enough. And they were -arguably- right. Proof. Pudding. All that.
That is maybe the harshest truth. And the hardest one to face. It sure as hell is the hardest one to commit to paper. Because that makes it stand. Solidly. Inescapably.
Because my greatly unhealthy fear of being (left) alone is so incredibly crippling.
And because I know that it’s something that finds its roots in that broken “personality structure”.
Right now, I don’t have anything to offer, Right now I am broken goods. Right now, I am the guy your friends tell you to steer away from.
Against that, I so desperately want to prove my worth on that playing field. Show them and you that I am in the same league.
And that, dear reader, is exactly why I shouldn’t. Because, at last right now, I am not. And have not been for some time.
Coda(mn)
Reading back this post, it is not exactly as maudlin and self-absorbed as any depressed teenager’s ramblings as I feared (although it would just take a quote of a “relevant” song text to…oh shit..I actually do that at the end… 🙁 )
The reference to Pandora’s Box is very apt. It’s all coming well and truly out of the dark. But I am not sure what it means.
I just think. And write. And think. And hope I make sense.
What, dear reader, if anything, does any of this mean to you?
“But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis; my punishment continues to elude me, and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself. No new knowledge can be extracted from my telling.
This confession has meant nothing.”
Next post: I’m working up to the scariest post I need to write.
- Song for the day:
“I have not lost the will to live
but I might have spent it all.
I used to have so much to give
Now I got nothing at all.
I won’t let you down.“
Hi mr. H. I have been reading every single one of your blogs. I am amazed at your courage. And each and every time i have had this thought i wanted to share with you. It is an insight I had recently. For me, it was revolutionary. For some reason i was hesitant to share of. Make of if what you will. It was this:
Shame is basically fear of being unworthy of connection with others. But there is something confusing about the term worthiness. It implies we have to earn the right to connect with others. But what if connecting to others has nothing to do with earning it? What if it’s more “an inalienable right” that we have, to try to connect with others? And, also, an inalienable right to refuse. Connection may happen, not because we earn them, but because two people desire a connection simply for the sake of it.
Compare it to the right each and everyone of us has to a defencelawyer, however horrific the crime we committed. In this line of thinking, even the worst of the people have a right to connect with others. Connection happens because of some mysterious chemistry. Because sometimes, for some reason, with some people, some window opens up that allows us to tap into that infinite pool of love.
So, that. Love, saskia
Interesting thoughts, Foxy (and thanks for writing in! <3 )
You are right, of course: a valuable connection happens when there is a reciprocal appreciation. Whether the basis for it is intellectual, romantic or chemical at the end of the day I think is less important (unless or until one of the parties desynchronises the relation by (trying to) bring it to another level, but that's another dynamic altogether).
But analogous to a human right?
Well, in the purely theoretical sense, yes. Everyone is free to attempt contact with anyone else. And, as you say, anyone is free in refusing that connection. I'm not disputing that dynamic. And I can perfectly see how that might be a very liberating revelation indeed for anyone afraid to commence contact!
It may surprise some (or many) of my readers, but initial contact is of very little difficulty to me. It’s even quite easy.
Where the thing breaks down for me, is when I’m “over that hump”.
Contact -initial contact included- takes a tremendous amount of energy.
I don’t mind that. I enjoy being entertaining and seeing positive reactions to that. But it is work. It feels like work (with a lovely pay-off!). I’m tired as sin every time after.
The reason for that is that I am never free of the underlying layer, that insidious inside voice that tells me that I will not be able to maintain or retain anything worthwhile.
So I can’t relax. I can’t let go. I can’t take a quiet moment. Then I’ll lose everything. Attention, respect, interest.
Love.
It’s neither a conscious nor a logical thought.
And I hate myself for having it drive me to the extent that it does.
Neither am I able to accept it as a “handicap”, for the unhappiness it causes me.
A many dynamics within me (and in my life) right now, it’s a perfect contradiction per se: the very thing that propels me, is killing me.
We all know that a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly, but I didn’t know until recently that inside the chrysalis, they break down completely into soupy goo. I’m not trying to say that you’ll be this perfect butterfly tomorrow and hooray, but couldn’t it be that you’re in a soupy goo stage that feels terrible, but won’t go on forever and might even lead to something better?
You lack optimism right now, but try to remember that optimism can come back. You really are on an unprecedented journey, but you never know when things can start to feel better for you.
Meanwhile, your friends want to carry you, and it’s okay to let them (or, if I may, “us”).
I am so incredibly aware of the love that surrounds me, and I absolutely hate and loathe myself or the internal dynamic that compels me to not eb able to accept that and dispel my fear of being rejected.
I know it. I cannot feel it.
It feels deeply unfair and ungrateful to my beautiful, wonderful friends and everyone so honestly and lovingly engaging with me.
It is infuriating. It is maddening. It is destructive.
I do try. I really do. But up till now my one best line of defense is a purely rational one: that – as you say- it “won’t go on forever and might even lead to something better”.
It can’t. Right?
I’m hanging on. For dear life.
But god, I’m so tired.
Uhm, is the thought display broken?
If that’s an English translation for the Toonderism “denkraam”, it’s fairly brilliant, and the answer is an unmitigated YES. Definitely.
If it’s not, I’m not sure what you mean…
You said Abe said it first… “You can fool all the people some of the time and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.” It works with self as well. You may be able to fool yourself some of the time, and some of yourself all the time. You cannot fool all of yourself all of the time. This crisis you’re going through, shows it. This very blog’s title shows it. This mask is not just removed for our sake, but for your own as well. It’s like stepping out into the bright sunshine. At first your eyes will hurt, but as they adjust themselves and the discomfort fades, you should allow yourself to enjoy the warmth as well. This is not just a process of pain. Know that you are not alone. Know that you do not need to be afraid to be yourself when you’re with friends. We appreciate you for who you are and in this process of hurting, we suffer with you, sharing your pain, hopefully allowed to take some of the burden.
It’s very true.
And I greatly appreciate your positive slant.
It should work this way, I know. but at the risk of sounding dramatic (or indeed melodramatic): I feel like I have not removed my mask in the sun, but underwater.
I’m really struggling at the moment.
Right now.
That is where you are and where you need to be.
Yes, it is chaotic and befuddling since there are so many contradicting feelings and thoughts.
I recognize this.
In more ways than I care to, but there it is.
You and I are going though a struggle to re-find and redefine who we are and who we want to be.
And that is huge.
Breathe.
One step at a time.
You want to please those who you like. Even those who you don’t, which is draining. And you fear for rejection, in which you are not alone.
All those things are pieces of you, that in itself is a huge piece of insight!
Do you realize that you get to choose what parts you want to keep?
You are allowed to fight for what you want, you are allowed to have a place that is you and like it or not other people get to decide if they like you or not.
But that in turn gives you the right to choose whom to please.
So now you get to decide how you feel about choosing.
Breathe.
Take a breath and try for a moment to imagine what each choice can give you.
You know what I am amazed to see in this post?
Your random acts of kindness, you do them for you gain the smile in turn for what you give that you can miss.
That is a plus.
A part of you that you are apparently at ease with.
Thanks. I’m not there.
I hope I’m simply not there yet. But i don’t know. Right now I feel getting crushed by the sheer weight of the diagnosis and its outlook.
I feel condemned.
Damned, if you want to put it a little (a little???) more melodramatically.
I struggle greatly with the idea that what I have been feeling these many decades is not an anomaly -my coping mechanism being “it’ll get better tomorrow”, but the very essence of what I am (thanks to the broken personality structure).
I cannot at this point choose my parts or direction. The only choice I am currently working through is whether I want to continue on feeling like this. And I will not. Whatever it takes this must end. Because tomorrow will not be magically better.
I hear you. You want things to be done. Over.
I’m afraid that our path in life is a different one. One of learning the process itself perhaps.
Don’t be discouraged.
It is alright to feel the way that you do.
Even if it does feel like the worst crap ever.
The shortcomings of personality are just that, shortcomings.
Not major flaws.
Not giant caveats.
Not humongous inabilities that you or I can never ever learn or do right.
I’ve come to terms with me being who I am.
And come to terms that I need to grow to be able to overcome the shortcomings.
That takes time.
Time of insight.
Breaking down the veil is a huge thing.
And even though I’ve been there, and still am not past it, I cannot give you a roadmap or a manual on how to do it all.
I can say this: I will be here.
I very much enjoyed our talk. Yes, in hindsight as it wasn’t an easy one. It helped me and I think in a way that you were helped too.
Hope to have more of those talks with you, not just about the hard parts.
I admire you for accepting whatever you feel or learned your shortcomings are. I do.
As long as it yields a (new?) workable baseline that is acceptable to you, your surroundings, your loved ones and your environment.
That is all there is to it, really: it needs to be accepted and workable.
You know me though as someone with fairly strong convictions and principles. And it is not alright how I feel. In no way, shape or form is it acceptable. It is well below the minimum level of quality of life, peace of mind or emotional equilibrium I would set. And I am working my !>(*%5$ing -and, if I may say so, rather attractive- ass off leaving no stone unturned in figuring out what I can do, need to do and must do to get to that baseline.
And knowing and accepting it is my struggle, fully within my control -insofar as not being hampered by misfiring chemical processes- , and within my responsibility, it does give me a certain peace of mind that if it turns out I am incapable to, that I am also the one happily taking full responsibility and accountability for how I will deal with that.
First thought: In regard to Pandora’s box, and likening self discovery to the opening of that dreaded box, I would like to observe that there is no way to organize the exit of the chaotic creatures from the box. I would also like to encourage you by saying that probably most people aren’t even willing to open the box. I see people self-destructing and paying a terrible price just to keep a lid on that box closed. I see people staying in relationships that are toxic because they are afraid to leave. I see you as having great courage for being willing to open the box.
Second thought: in regard to organizing the critters that come flying out of the box when one opens the lid, we must consider, what are our coping mechanisms? There is a saying that if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. I anecdotally noticed your project management skills bleeding over into your personal life as you try to cope with something that is very difficult to manage. You look for the steps to organize the approach. I know this because I do the same thing. When we have great success with a coping mechanism in one area we tend to want to apply it to other areas. Your project management skills may not be the only coping mechanism that you need here.
Third thought: The cruelest of criticisms are not coming from your friends or your family. Who has left you over this blog? I dare say, no one who really knows you. No, the harshest of responses are your own self-critical feelings. Those are hard to refute. Because no matter how much affirmation you receive from those who love you, that inner critic of Mr. H can always say, “yes, but they don’t REALLY know. And if they did ….”
Fourth thought: it is possible that you are doing everything right, everything that you possibly can, at the moment. It is also possible that feelings fluctuate from day to day and even from decade to decade if you will. We are all changing and evolving.
Fifth thought: Your sharing has strengthened me. You have been for me over the years, though you probably don’t know it, someone that gave me comfort at my worst times. I would think, when I was at my bottom, and I did not feel that I had anyone to turn to, that I still had my little fantasy of leaving America and moving to Europe. Where I could then hang out with one of my most admired friends. To have one of my most admired friends share his heartbreak, Depression, inner thoughts, and Pain has helped me tremendously. Because I see in your thoughts and experience a lot of what I have felt throughout my life. Sometimes there are no answers for what we feel but it means so much to know that we are not alone in those feelings.
I don’t feel very courageous. Quite the contrary. 🙁 It’s hard for me to remember a time when I felt quite this helpless and vulnerable.
Your last sentence was a balm.
This is very much how I feel: afraid there simply are no answers. That these options I search for are only vain hope. That and the very nature of what I’m going through makes me feel -the unending love and sympathy of SO many (including you) notwithstanding- incredibly, unexplainably and ridiculously (it really infuriates me!) lonely.
Realising that I may feel lonely but am not alone is deeply moving.
(And I had to laugh at your assessment of my PM skills. Not much gets by you, does it? 🙂 )
It is precisely BECAUSE you feel helpless and vulnerable that you are courageous for sharing.
I had a thought. You mentioned several times that you know you are well loved and yet you are lonely. This us the primary difference I see between you and me.I am not well loved. My family into which I was born does not love me or care for me. I had to go to hospital this week and I was alone. I drove myself to the emergency room and they sent me by ambulance to hospital ER. I took an Uber back to the first ER where I had left my car. All the while I hoped and prayed I would not be admitted for a stay because I could not find anyone to help me with my animals. There are a couple of people I could count on if they lived near me but they don’t.
I feel lonely all the time and even though I know logically I will never have a loving caring family, I HOPE that I will. And so, my sadness and loneliness makes sense.
But it is exhausting to hope for a love that never comes.
Thank you. It is really kind of you to consider it this way, even though I don’t see it myself.
I understand what you are saying with regards to me not being alone, and it’s absolutely true, inherently so (with so many people ‘having my back’) .
Yet I expend an incredible amount of energy investing in additional social contacts, even now! I am keenly aware how much I need it, and how important ‘life’ around me is.
And while I mess up far too regularly -trying too hard, not being able to sustain the momentum structurally, being too much of a pleaser and paying for it later- I generally do succeed in making new acquaintances. Friends, even!
So all I can add of value to you, is the message to try.
I have become a member of every single local club I haven’t immediately taken a dislike to, and attend meetings, meet-ups, random events, lectures, concerts…you name it.
Yes, as I said: the energy I need to do that is quite phenomenal, and one could be forgiven wondering whether this really is the wisest course of action in the circumstances. But with regards to your situation, I would honestly recommend a similar approach.
I wanted to ask you something: do you ever think about your parents when you are developing your project? I ask you that not because I want to lecture you or feel bad about it, just to give you another point of view/perspective. Whenever I feel down for whatever reason I think to myself “my parents didn’t raise me for it, my upbringing doesn’t deserve this! too much love from them was used on me and I am wasting it feeling like this”. You know, just a thought. I want to read your thoughts on it. It has been a while we don’t speak and I still hope you give up on your project – you are too much important to leave our world like this, even though this world is a piece of shit, we need people like you to keep the sun shining bright.
Very fair question, Sarinha, and one I expected earlier to be honest! So thanks for posing it.
The honest answer is that the only way I consider my parents in this is “thank God they are no longer around”. The guilt is heavy enough without adding that immense burden. So I’m “lucky” that I do not even need to consider this.
It would be different if I were just feeling down, indeed. I am very good at kicking myself in the butt and taking back control. Sure,a lovely little bout of self-pity is awesome…but not for longer than a few hours, please.
This, however, is lightyears beyond that stage.
In fact, my nigh-neurotic tendency to ply myself to the opinions of others is in no small part what got me to this place.
So no. There is no input-output analysis. I know I was loved deeply. I know I am still loved by so many today.
I know it!
But it doesn’t help the fact that deep inside something turns out to be horribly broken. And as much as I would have LOVED that it would be, love is not enough to heal it. Or even mitigate it any more. I so wish it would be. So very, very much.