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Sep 14: Of the Sundered Soul
12 years ago
|█████|BODY
|█████|MIND
|█████|SOUL
█ Presumption over empathy leads to a loss of trust. This is the theme of most of my life.
People presume certain things are not important to another person, but how often does that presumption end up completely false? How often does that wrong presumption lead another person committing a grave wrong on another person? How often does the person doing the presuming simply go "Well I was only trying to help!" just to excuse their actions?
Trying to cure suffering without even first acknowledging it in the first place does nothing. It's like trying to save a drowning person by draining the ocean they're under and saying "I'm doing something helpful."
I'm the one drowning, and everyone else are the people trying to drain the ocean with buckets. It doesn't matter how many of you there are, it doesn't help.
Yes I have family and friends that care about me, and yes many of you who are fans who care about me as well; but these things don't reach me. I don't mean to diminish your goodwill, or attempts at making me feel better; but I can't bridge the gap between my own state of mind to the myriad of people who in their own way try to help me. I can only look upon it much in the same way as a drowning person might look at people trying to save them by trying to bucket out water: A mixture of frustration, despair, and anger.
I don't write this to seek attention, but I mention it anyways because... presumptions. I write this to give what I feel tangible substance, so I can look on the words that flow from my fingers and derive some meaning from it. I post these ramblings so that maybe people find answers to questions they have, or perhaps to questions they never thought to ask.
I actually wanted to try to put what feelings I have into the subject into some artistic endeavor, but I wasn't able to find an appropriate way to convey the message I was trying to express. I suppose the trouble with "A picture is worth a thousand words" is that one has very little control over what those thousands words will be, but with writing I do have that control; and I need that control for me to be express what is it that I feel.
So what do I feel? Loneliness. Too stand with people that care for you and still feel utterly alone. Though this leads back to the theme of my life. Every 'meaningful' relationship I can think of I can list at least one example of where my trust in that other person was destroyed. They're still the same person, and even the bulk of the relationship might stay the same; but in the inside I feel... little for them. That they could disappear from the world tomorrow and I don't think it would matter enough for me to be all that upset about it.
The laundry list is long, my parents, my brother, most of my friends, my teammates, my coworkers, my teachers, my classmates, my fans, and even complete strangers. At this point you might say "That's stupid, you can't have relationship with strangers." but you can. To be in the presence of a stranger and be comfortable, or be in the presence of a stranger uncomfortable, or even in danger; such is the nature of relationships with 'strangers' or in larger part the 'world'.
I on occasion wonder why I haven't killed myself while others have. One conclusion I've drawn on the subject is that it's because I was actually happy in some point in the past. That the foundations of a strong... I suppose 'character' were put together that allowed me to weather the stripping of what one might consider the soul. That what made me who i was got hollowed out completely but I did not implode and collapse on myself. The empty framework an echo of what's a faded memory of something... wholesome and beautiful. Other people probably don't get that, that from the beginning they've been beat down and tortured, that eventually the supports that hold up break down and fall apart and they take that final step and end it all. They have no one, not even themselves.
I still have myself, the only thing keeping me sane really. Friends and relationships tend to aggravate and frustrate me, because despite my abilities as a wordsmith I cannot ever get across how I feel enough for the other to even get a remote grasp on who I am. The reason why this journal even exists is because I made the stupid mistake of actually trying to open up and express my feelings about certain personal demons I need to confront to my 'fans'. The reaction I got from the peanut gallery was less than inspiring as while I was facing something I personally consider to be deep, concerning, and painful others decided to make light of it. Others suggesting that it's not a big a deal as I make it out to be. That they easily dealt with their own personal demons. Heck, supposedly one of the requirements for 'giving in' to one's demons is to kill people so clearly I'm not suffering as much as I say I am. Another suggestion that I'm not really broken at all, that I have all these people who care for me and I'm being unfair to all of them by acting the way I do.
This all just goes back to people bailing out the ocean for a drowning person, and why feelings of anger occur towards the people trying to 'help.' That all their trashing at the water's surface just probably creates waves and turbulence that just ends up pushing me deeper under. Who has ever been able to pull this drowning person to the surface? No one. That's how many people actually understand me well enough to actually make a meaningful impact in an effort to help me. Hence my loneliness.
All this and I haven't even talked about what the inner demons are. What things that trouble me even more than all this stuff I've put forward.
What's my inner demon? That I'm actually very spiteful, and that spitefulness is given a lot of strength because I don't have a face or nose to care about when I do spite. I have a sadistic side to my personality, and not in the 'fun' way either. It's probably something I got from my father, something I didn't really understand when I was younger; how he would laugh at other people's misfortunes. How he saw the suffering of others as a joke or funny. I didn't understand it or like it, but as I grew older I began to understand some context of it. The more I see of the world, the more I end up relying on that part of my personality; because people are stupid, and more and more I start feeling that people deserve to suffer. The more I think people should be miserable, and the more I want to laugh at such fools and idiots. To make everyone a lowlife that deserve their lot and suffering in life. That's not who I am though, that's not someone I want to be either. Suffering isn't a choice, but rather a condition that is forced upon them due to whatever fate the world pushed on them. No one chooses to be abused or mistreated in life, and we were all children once. Even for those who have done the greatest of wrongs I still want to be able to forgive them, and I still want to be able to feel sorry for them; because they were given a most unfair life. I don't want to take sadistic joy out of the suffering of others, there's always been too much of it; still is. Yet that is a strong part of me, but it's only strong because everything else about me was stripped away years ago, it was the only thing left. Sometimes I think it's still the only thing left, because often times it's the only thing I that I can describe as something I feel "passionate" about, everything else feels dead, cold, dried up, and gone.
I asked myself recently "What is it that you want?" and I couldn't come up with any strong answers. Just faint echos of "I want to be happy, but I don't think I even remember what that's like." When my thoughts drifted to my art here on FA the only conviction I could come up with was "I'd rather draw than work at retail or fast food" rather than any actual passion for the content. It's not much, but I suppose it will have to do.
It will have to be enough.
Besides, I think I'm learning how to breathe the ocean I'm drowning in.
|█████|MIND
|█████|SOUL
█ Presumption over empathy leads to a loss of trust. This is the theme of most of my life.
People presume certain things are not important to another person, but how often does that presumption end up completely false? How often does that wrong presumption lead another person committing a grave wrong on another person? How often does the person doing the presuming simply go "Well I was only trying to help!" just to excuse their actions?
Trying to cure suffering without even first acknowledging it in the first place does nothing. It's like trying to save a drowning person by draining the ocean they're under and saying "I'm doing something helpful."
I'm the one drowning, and everyone else are the people trying to drain the ocean with buckets. It doesn't matter how many of you there are, it doesn't help.
Yes I have family and friends that care about me, and yes many of you who are fans who care about me as well; but these things don't reach me. I don't mean to diminish your goodwill, or attempts at making me feel better; but I can't bridge the gap between my own state of mind to the myriad of people who in their own way try to help me. I can only look upon it much in the same way as a drowning person might look at people trying to save them by trying to bucket out water: A mixture of frustration, despair, and anger.
I don't write this to seek attention, but I mention it anyways because... presumptions. I write this to give what I feel tangible substance, so I can look on the words that flow from my fingers and derive some meaning from it. I post these ramblings so that maybe people find answers to questions they have, or perhaps to questions they never thought to ask.
I actually wanted to try to put what feelings I have into the subject into some artistic endeavor, but I wasn't able to find an appropriate way to convey the message I was trying to express. I suppose the trouble with "A picture is worth a thousand words" is that one has very little control over what those thousands words will be, but with writing I do have that control; and I need that control for me to be express what is it that I feel.
So what do I feel? Loneliness. Too stand with people that care for you and still feel utterly alone. Though this leads back to the theme of my life. Every 'meaningful' relationship I can think of I can list at least one example of where my trust in that other person was destroyed. They're still the same person, and even the bulk of the relationship might stay the same; but in the inside I feel... little for them. That they could disappear from the world tomorrow and I don't think it would matter enough for me to be all that upset about it.
The laundry list is long, my parents, my brother, most of my friends, my teammates, my coworkers, my teachers, my classmates, my fans, and even complete strangers. At this point you might say "That's stupid, you can't have relationship with strangers." but you can. To be in the presence of a stranger and be comfortable, or be in the presence of a stranger uncomfortable, or even in danger; such is the nature of relationships with 'strangers' or in larger part the 'world'.
I on occasion wonder why I haven't killed myself while others have. One conclusion I've drawn on the subject is that it's because I was actually happy in some point in the past. That the foundations of a strong... I suppose 'character' were put together that allowed me to weather the stripping of what one might consider the soul. That what made me who i was got hollowed out completely but I did not implode and collapse on myself. The empty framework an echo of what's a faded memory of something... wholesome and beautiful. Other people probably don't get that, that from the beginning they've been beat down and tortured, that eventually the supports that hold up break down and fall apart and they take that final step and end it all. They have no one, not even themselves.
I still have myself, the only thing keeping me sane really. Friends and relationships tend to aggravate and frustrate me, because despite my abilities as a wordsmith I cannot ever get across how I feel enough for the other to even get a remote grasp on who I am. The reason why this journal even exists is because I made the stupid mistake of actually trying to open up and express my feelings about certain personal demons I need to confront to my 'fans'. The reaction I got from the peanut gallery was less than inspiring as while I was facing something I personally consider to be deep, concerning, and painful others decided to make light of it. Others suggesting that it's not a big a deal as I make it out to be. That they easily dealt with their own personal demons. Heck, supposedly one of the requirements for 'giving in' to one's demons is to kill people so clearly I'm not suffering as much as I say I am. Another suggestion that I'm not really broken at all, that I have all these people who care for me and I'm being unfair to all of them by acting the way I do.
This all just goes back to people bailing out the ocean for a drowning person, and why feelings of anger occur towards the people trying to 'help.' That all their trashing at the water's surface just probably creates waves and turbulence that just ends up pushing me deeper under. Who has ever been able to pull this drowning person to the surface? No one. That's how many people actually understand me well enough to actually make a meaningful impact in an effort to help me. Hence my loneliness.
All this and I haven't even talked about what the inner demons are. What things that trouble me even more than all this stuff I've put forward.
What's my inner demon? That I'm actually very spiteful, and that spitefulness is given a lot of strength because I don't have a face or nose to care about when I do spite. I have a sadistic side to my personality, and not in the 'fun' way either. It's probably something I got from my father, something I didn't really understand when I was younger; how he would laugh at other people's misfortunes. How he saw the suffering of others as a joke or funny. I didn't understand it or like it, but as I grew older I began to understand some context of it. The more I see of the world, the more I end up relying on that part of my personality; because people are stupid, and more and more I start feeling that people deserve to suffer. The more I think people should be miserable, and the more I want to laugh at such fools and idiots. To make everyone a lowlife that deserve their lot and suffering in life. That's not who I am though, that's not someone I want to be either. Suffering isn't a choice, but rather a condition that is forced upon them due to whatever fate the world pushed on them. No one chooses to be abused or mistreated in life, and we were all children once. Even for those who have done the greatest of wrongs I still want to be able to forgive them, and I still want to be able to feel sorry for them; because they were given a most unfair life. I don't want to take sadistic joy out of the suffering of others, there's always been too much of it; still is. Yet that is a strong part of me, but it's only strong because everything else about me was stripped away years ago, it was the only thing left. Sometimes I think it's still the only thing left, because often times it's the only thing I that I can describe as something I feel "passionate" about, everything else feels dead, cold, dried up, and gone.
I asked myself recently "What is it that you want?" and I couldn't come up with any strong answers. Just faint echos of "I want to be happy, but I don't think I even remember what that's like." When my thoughts drifted to my art here on FA the only conviction I could come up with was "I'd rather draw than work at retail or fast food" rather than any actual passion for the content. It's not much, but I suppose it will have to do.
It will have to be enough.
Besides, I think I'm learning how to breathe the ocean I'm drowning in.
While I wish I could give help, I know very well that I cannot, so the only thing I can do is hope that someone will throw you the lifeguard someday. I wish you Fortune in remaining strong.
I know I can not feel exactly what you do, and never fully understand, But in my own way I get what is happening. I can only hope you rest well....I know I am a stranger my self, a fan but one that you don't know....But I would tell you one thing. Despite what you say your words...pull a lot of meaning, I spent an hour reading, then typing this up, hoping that I might, Make a small impact in the world.
If I may be a little personal for a moment; I enjoy seeing your posts, your art, I just enjoy seeing your alive, You seem like the kind of person I would sit on my computer and talk the late hours of the night away with. I am just glad that you are OK, I know it might be a little odd for a person to say that but, I am an odd person. You know nothing on me, I know nothing on you, But I respect you, as a person, artist, story witter, and you as just a person I enjoy seeing.
I think I gone on long enugh, Just hope the best
I feel you did a very adequate job in that regard here. Writing with such complexity and soul is rare to find around FA.
It's understandable that people are doing this to you. It is incredibly difficult for human beings to adequately comprehend another's life. All humans are intricate and complex, but we've been spoon fed that life is easy to summarize, that complex problems can be solved by small intervention. "Suzie's suicidal tendencies are as easy as confronting her problems once, and then everything is good! All she needed is one guy to tell her she matters, or for one guy with worse problems to exclaim that Suzie has more going for her than she thought! That's all!" says the movie, says the sitcom. Happy endings for all.
But you can't fill the pain of an individual, or the solving of their problems, into one episode. The same can be said for a FurAffinity comment. You can't discredit one's suffering by comparing it to another's. The same can be said for a FurAffinity comment. We all feel sympathy and compassion, but how many can truly understand? Very, very few. You'll get your suggestions to go to therapy, to think of it from a different perspective... all that general cliche shit. As you call it, people trying to empty the ocean rather than save the drowning man. The reason? It requires far less effort and personal risk to slowly empty an ocean that it does to save a drowning man.
Your inner demon is interesting. It's obviously something that deeply concerns you, and at some level I can understand that. Nobody with a good conscience wants to laugh at another's pain.
I have my thoughts on your issues... but I'm not going to pretend I can solve your problem. You've already adequately explained why that may not be the best idea. I, like anyone else here, wish I could. But you're absolutely right in your explanation. So I will observe. Maybe comment here or there if you express yourself more. At the very least, I'll remain a fan of the artwork you draw. Watch from a distance unless asked otherwise.
Eventually, you'll either learn to breathe, or learn to swim.
I offer nothing more but my sympathies for the suffering you must endure. I wish there was something that I could do to help, or that the solution was an easy one.
It's such a privilege to be able to witness the talents that you posses. Thank you so much for sharing them with us!
i wanted to say that your not alone in that respect of your demon, though i dont believe i have it to that level, least from what i can see, eerr if that makes sense. i still dont understand that side of getting a laugh from seeing someone suffer when i've suffered a like situation or what not ( not saying you have the same i mean as an example in general ) i do fight that since i truely dont want to be that way either. t his world is cruel and nurturing because i feel most people have just left that side take over and said "fuck it everyone else is the same way" and just gone with the motions, and it does make me hate that part but in turn i cant said the word "hate" towards it because that would mean i've lost my will to pitty them for it. i still pitty and feel sorry for them all but i forgive. but thats just in i guess to say thats just how i chose to take it i think. as all experience for everyone will be taken differently by everyone even if they go through the same situation, kinda like if a best friend tries to hurt you and another friend watchs. it might not even make you react to what could have happened but to them there shaken and tramatized by it even though it didnt happen to them. err sorry im ranting now uhh ok back to my point.
i cant not say anything to you that i did not assume since i dont know anyhting of what scares you bare. i can only take what you tell me and from what you have and from what i have seen in former art and and convos and such, i feel you kinda just dont know what to do or how to be and thats what might be a facter to how you feel, but im not going to say this is what it is and this is how you fix it. hell if i did that i'd be a hypocrite , but im not saying that just saying from what i read and such as i said and i dont know maybe it can be a helping rope instead of a bucket. err though i know that sounds way bad but i ment it from your ocean analogy sorry
and sorry if im just babbling nad not making sense i'm just open to talking is all i guess and listening or whatever maybe the case. err yeah thats all.
I've seen such depression and I know words never help. So all I can hope is that one day things will be better for you.
All I can say is... we are who we are, whom we choose to be. The only person who can change a person is himself, noone else. For others to try and change a man, they walk upon a rather impossible road. For a man to change himself... it is time and will that makes the man change himself.
I dont know if these are good choices of words, considering what happened. But atleast... that's how I feel about all of this.
But does your need to hurt is at least satisfied when you draw such scenes on your canvas? ^'===='^;