Explanation time, maybe

8 08 2010

Although today I feel a bit better, there are still a lot of issues I have to address and I don’t know how to address properly. I had another of my small crises just now so is worth to write down something to calm myself and be sure to understand a bit more what’s going on.

A few of this issues are worth a mention today, as a form of simple explanation of that happened a few days ago and what’s happening now as well.
The first, and probably the uncanny mother of all, is that I think too much. “Thinking too much” goes directly into the realm of logic, quite far from the feeling one, and hence starts to overcomplicate things. Thinking is not “logical” per see though… it might be some for of very fantastical or paranoid thinking – usually, in my case, the latter above the first – but it does indeed proceed with logical steps, highly distorted of course by the sense of reality I might have in that moment… a very easy example is that sometimes, when I’m playing with myself in a painful way, I start to think that I might get an infection or something like that and hence in a couple of minutes I will think I will die of some horrible sickness. There is of course no logical connection between placing some pegs for 15 minutes on a nipple and gangrene BUT that doesn’t mean I can avoid to think the worst. Over thinking comes also in play when, like now, I try to analyse myself.
Of course trying to stop the process of thinking is nearly impossible right now… the amount of pain that I would need to inflict myself to do that, is far from my pleasure threshold so I certainly cannot reach that alone… and I’m not even sure is the right method anyway.
In this process of over-thinking of course I need guidance but I feel sometimes is useless to ask question if the answer is that I think too much or that is my fault. It’s pretty much a tautology asking me to stop thinking when I am obviously obsessed by it. I live in a world where everything must have a meaning and must have a place. I am not apt to deal with the chaos of uncertainty or the chaos of my soul.

The second issue would be my general and constant state of sadness. I might be depressed, I might be bipolar… that would easily solve the issue… a pill or two and I would be fine. But is that all? Or there is something else? My case of constant bad moods is dating up a few years ago… so is that related to the fact I am not expressing my “sub” side or is just related to the fact that I can’t deal with it, that I feel deeply and constantly ashamed of what I am and of what I like? Or maybe is something lost in the memories of time, an episode forgotten long time ago, a small thing that left on my breath a token of constant doom? Questions questions again and I don’t have any answers. And the search for those answer just brought me too far from my usual beaches. Itaca is far from being seen on the horizon, isn’t it?
And when I am sad or depressed and hence I am confused why I cannot explain anything about it, why I cannot talk about it? My over-thinking obsession get stuck and “it doesn’t do any good” to explain sometimes. So again is a path to neurosis?

Now, here, in this precise and effective moment I don’t like what’s happening to me, I don’t like what’s going on, I don’t like the person I am becoming. This should be enough for stopping the whole “slave process” thing, because it’s clear that something is wrong – in the process per see? in my head? in my reaction to the process? who knows?.
The focal point is “feeling” now, against thinking… (or is this a kind of thinking, bad paranoid thinking, masked as feeling?) and that’s the feeling that this is wrong and is not doing me any good. I shouldn’t feel like this, I shouldn’t experience this deep despair, I shouldn’t feel so miserable…
What though really impresses me is the depth of this feelings (being they bad feelings of despair of joyfudl feelings of servitude)… they are not easy to describe because there is no words for certain deepness of the soul… or maybe they comes from a realm so far and different from speech that there would be no sense in describing it… the only things that comes to my mind, beside the impossibility of an expression, is the comparison to an idea of death, death as a metaphor of something unreachable or something that avoid any form of explanation: is not there and you can’t explain, is there and you’re not any more.

I put myself in this stupid situation and I cannot escape and now I have to deal with it but I don’t know how.
I’m just too desperate to think of something right now. And after all this wall-of-text, still everything seems so ridiculous and meaningless.
My joy, my pains, my thoughts, my good days, my bad ones… everything seems just too ridiculous to be true. I am but a caricature of myself.
I wonder where it is the switch to light the room and realize that I was just dreaming.

And what if tomorrow I’ll wake up and all this will be another silly rant and the cycle of silliness will start over again? Isn’t this a bit ridiculous as well? Repetita iuvant, they said in latin. I’m not so sure it’s helping me very much, so far.




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