Sometimes a couple of people get stuck in my head for years and years and I envision a cinematic and large battle with me and them. They did nothing wrong at all, literally. Sure they called you out and made a couple of rude gestures, but you don’t really know or talk to them at all. In my attempted escape from my past unhealthy obsessions, I tried so hard to simply help everyone, I treated it like my own religion. It was my only purpose in life at the time, and to look back and see that you’ve simply hurt more people than helped, it does a number to your already fragile and warped view on the world.
These people, they get to you, in the weirdest way possible. In the real world they are actually really nice, but god, your mind builds a persona out of them, the true evil in your life. So when those people or ideas in your head show any connection, you immediately see them as the big bad or whatever. I’m not talking about jerks that’ll be mean to you in public, no, I’m forced to envision them as the true evil to my world. I think it’s simply because I’m immature, just like what everyone tells me over and over again. That I am not worthy, that I am not human, that I have made too many mistakes and my punishment is necessary. They probably didn’t completely mean or say that, but I do believe it sometimes.
Sometimes I take a step back, not from my warped view, but just from the situation. In the past I was able to convert this stress from these type of people, who would be in communication with me 24/7, into something of pure anger. I used to have so much delusion and sense of power drilled into me that I felt unstoppable, I could create whatever I wanted, from program to art. Depression at the time felt like a joke, I truly felt alive, working to prove those people wrong, to make the figure in my head happy.
Following those years of my life was just a never-ending withdrawal and sense of lost purpose. It’s like I wasted my all the motivation for my teenage years with in 2 years. Did I prove those people wrong? Maybe a couple. I was so burnt out over the fact that I couldn’t be as productive as those years. I created physical diaries at the time, two full books of nightly recordings. The first one is just sick to read, the second one is where I noticed some more sense coming back to me. I couldn’t for the life of me go back to that, I would need to be that delusional for the rest of my life in order to avoid death. I’m happy where I am now, but those people can sometimes creep in my head as a daily reminder to judge my worth. I think I’m worthy enough to not listen anymore.
Loading comments...