just had a #revelation
re why i relentlessly pursue things that compromise my mental abilities, despite the fact my sense of self-worth hinges on a belief that i am good at thinking, and the associated latent belief that i should test the limits of my abilities through learning, analysis, critique and communication of thus formed knowledge.
ie the problem is not whether i am stupid or not, or like finding out just how good i am at thinking or what my scores are or whatever. despite what i constantly hear myself saying out loud, the truth, which somehow slipped from my grasp over the course of a decade, is that i couldn’t give less of a shit about quantifying innate ability and that actually i loathe that impulse and can’t help but associate it with fascism, even in the ‘seemingly innocuous’ manifestations of corporate grad scheme candidate checks and so on.
the problem is that knowledge brings misery, because the world is horrible
and i don’t like thinking about the world because it chills my blood and makes me distrust absolutely every single thing in my life and tear down each thing to the tiniest pieces of meaning that i can manage
because the imagined mass of the unknown unknowns fills me with legitimate paranoia
and seeing as i was conditioned to think of myself as a brain in a vat by my dear parents and all the very expensive very prestigious pedagogical institutions they put me through
i don’t really value anything else about myself, so i have nothing to turn to, no other strategy to cope with the fact that everything is crazy and terrifying
so i pursue an eating disorder i don’t even feel that attached to anymore to fuck myself over and over and over because it is comforting
and it helps me feel less like i am completely totally alone in the world and always have been
which in a way is of course the truth that so many people before me have wrestled with and still had to die at the end of it
but just because billions of ‘real’ men have had to cope with the human condition and some of them had a pretty good theoretical stab at it
doesn’t mean that i don’t want to also have a go, or rather that i feel compelled and driven to look at the things that i don’t understand and that scare me and try to understand them
none of this means i will change any of my behaviours any time soon or that anything will be different
but i thought i would write it out while i have this brief window of not struggling to form sentences and not being ashamed to actively think about my life and even have the impulse to share it with a friend without worrying that i am taking up precious time. /rant
and as an optimistic addendum, i think that as time passed – throwing me at random intervals back and forth to that point when i was 16 and i reached for something better and then got crushed with all the misogyny and immigration and autism ignorance and false assumptions of malice – as time passed, things happened and i started being better (if not always good) at other stuff, like caring about other people and trying to make them like themselves a bit more, which sometimes worked and sometimes gave me a sense of self-worth, and warm feelings of wholeness that i was naturally not afraid of and therefore had no desire to disintegrate into another one of my conspiracies. Because the world is horrible and terrifying and no one is immune from wanting to wrap themselves into something warm and wholesome, not even me.