I do get so sick of being human
Okay…I am so confused right now I don’t know what to do with myself.
So I’m reading American Psycho right? No big deal right? Just a bunch of gruesome and meaningless murders coupled with this gruesome meaningless shitty superficial façade that everyone seems to fall for. So…why am I confused? I’m confused because I’m reading it and though I’m plenty engrossed, totally mindlessly involved in the story, so much that while I do manage to do my job, everything else gets blocked out, even when people are talking to me, and though half the shit he does to those people (I hate to admit this) turns me on, I find myself somewhat disturbed. Me! Disturbed by gruesome murders? Since fucking when? I remember when it was all I seemed to think about, rapes and murders and meaningless grudges and just hate, hate everywhere. What happened?
I was sick…and…oh god, here’s the crusher, here’s what blows me…I got better? Well, obviously not completely better because somehow I still find humor in all the grotesque shit he does, there’s a part of me that still wishes I could be him, or even one of his victims, so I’m obviously still sick-ish (I’m sure some would argue that “-ish” but fuck them). But when I think about it I realize that while most times my disposition, with others and myself, is a lot better than it used to be, I still get those hateful impulses to gouge people’s eye balls out or slowly burn their skin off, or cut their fingers off and shove them up their asses, but most of the time I’m…gosh, I hate to say it, but most of the time I’m “fine”, really, truly, no lie, “fine”.
This realization pulls me in a couple directions. It certainly scares the shit out of me. Who said I ever wanted to get “better”? And what do you do if you’re normal? How do normal people think? I’ve been out of connection with myself for some time now, probably since I got sober, and more so since I got bloody kicked out of my best friend’s life. Or have I? Is it the opposite? I’ve been so in tune with myself that I’m totally content with everything and I’m willing to sacrifice my whatever it was to be okay? Oh God, I really don’t know. So, as I’ve said, I’m confused and scared shitless and I don’t know what to do about it.
I kind of want to call my sponsor and scream in his ear that it’s his fault I’m fucking okay now, and who gave him the bloody right to lead me in this direction?! But that makes no sense…I followed him…he ain’t make me do anything at all, I just did it, I did as I was told. …Til now, since I refuse to do my eighth step because I don’t know if I want this. I don’t know if I want to always feel that everything is going to be alright. What the fuck is this? I was on the edge for most of my life and now I’m so far inland I don’t know if I’d be able to find my way back to the edge.
Okay, I lied what really, really, really, blows me is that…shit…that I don’t know if I want to go back to the edge any more than I know if I want to stay right here where I am, or find out what’s even further inland. I’m…lost?
So I’m reading American Psycho right? No big deal right? Just a bunch of gruesome and meaningless murders coupled with this gruesome meaningless shitty superficial façade that everyone seems to fall for. So…why am I confused? I’m confused because I’m reading it and though I’m plenty engrossed, totally mindlessly involved in the story, so much that while I do manage to do my job, everything else gets blocked out, even when people are talking to me, and though half the shit he does to those people (I hate to admit this) turns me on, I find myself somewhat disturbed. Me! Disturbed by gruesome murders? Since fucking when? I remember when it was all I seemed to think about, rapes and murders and meaningless grudges and just hate, hate everywhere. What happened?
I was sick…and…oh god, here’s the crusher, here’s what blows me…I got better? Well, obviously not completely better because somehow I still find humor in all the grotesque shit he does, there’s a part of me that still wishes I could be him, or even one of his victims, so I’m obviously still sick-ish (I’m sure some would argue that “-ish” but fuck them). But when I think about it I realize that while most times my disposition, with others and myself, is a lot better than it used to be, I still get those hateful impulses to gouge people’s eye balls out or slowly burn their skin off, or cut their fingers off and shove them up their asses, but most of the time I’m…gosh, I hate to say it, but most of the time I’m “fine”, really, truly, no lie, “fine”.
This realization pulls me in a couple directions. It certainly scares the shit out of me. Who said I ever wanted to get “better”? And what do you do if you’re normal? How do normal people think? I’ve been out of connection with myself for some time now, probably since I got sober, and more so since I got bloody kicked out of my best friend’s life. Or have I? Is it the opposite? I’ve been so in tune with myself that I’m totally content with everything and I’m willing to sacrifice my whatever it was to be okay? Oh God, I really don’t know. So, as I’ve said, I’m confused and scared shitless and I don’t know what to do about it.
I kind of want to call my sponsor and scream in his ear that it’s his fault I’m fucking okay now, and who gave him the bloody right to lead me in this direction?! But that makes no sense…I followed him…he ain’t make me do anything at all, I just did it, I did as I was told. …Til now, since I refuse to do my eighth step because I don’t know if I want this. I don’t know if I want to always feel that everything is going to be alright. What the fuck is this? I was on the edge for most of my life and now I’m so far inland I don’t know if I’d be able to find my way back to the edge.
Okay, I lied what really, really, really, blows me is that…shit…that I don’t know if I want to go back to the edge any more than I know if I want to stay right here where I am, or find out what’s even further inland. I’m…lost?