Looking Inward
I've been doing a lot of soul-searching lately. I've realized some things about myself I never saw before. No one's out to get me, I'm just freaking paranoid. I realized the depths of my problem on Sunday, when I was first to game, but couldn't actually stop and go up to the door, but had to drive somewhere, park for about ten minutes, then drive back and see if anyone was there. The reason is quite simple, and quite insane. I was afraid that I was being avoided, that I had said something that had caused my friends at the Sunday game to abandon me.
Note to Sunday people who may be reading this: I have absolutely no reason to think this. You have never given me a reason to think this. I have never recieved anything but friendship from you. This is a mental problem which I cannot fully repress.
I wonder now how many actual friends I may have had, that the paranoia pushed away. Did I have true friends in Sidney that I simply couldn't see? How much is real and how much is the product of a deranged mind?
I have wondered if I needed some sort of help (like psychologically). I don't know. I don't trust psychologists. I don't trust anybody, and I think that may be the root of all of my problems. Perhaps my mother is a perfectly normal person, but the paranoia skews everything (I actually doubt this, I think as do others that my mother has some real problems). What if my life isn't half as bad as I've made it out to be, but the paranoia just makes everything seem so much worse.
I went to a psychologist (or perhaps she was a psychiatrist, I don't know) when I was seven. I told her nothing. I knew anything I told her would be told to my mother, and I have never trusted my mother. I do not remember a single point of time wherein I trusted my mother. But I do not believe that psychologists are neccesary, not for me who already knows my problems. I do not believe that drugs are neccesary. I can fix any mental problem I have through sheer force of will.
I am actually having trouble thinking of anyone that I do trust implicitly. I am not even sure that I trust Zak implicitly, though I have far less issues with him than I have ever had with any other person. And most people have never given me a reason to not trust them; again, it's the nature of the problem.
I think some of this self-exploration may be what has driven me towards religion. No, I'm not a born-again Christian or anything, I'm still Satanist, I'm just thinking more about why I am a Satanist. It has to do with control. Satanism states that each person controls their reality and destiny. Historically i have never had control of anything, especially my own life. I like the idea that I control every aspect of my life. I like the idea that there is no god out there pulling the strings. Some people may not. Some people need gods. They need some one to turn to. They need some one to blame. I do not need a god. I turn to myself, I turn inward, I see knowledge from within. And if things fuck up, I blame myself, and try again harder.
But perhaps this philosophy is part of the problem. Maybe I should turn to others more often for help, insetead of relying solely on myself. But I don't know if I can, you see, not until I work through my paranoia issues.
Here's to paranoia.
L.A.
Note to Sunday people who may be reading this: I have absolutely no reason to think this. You have never given me a reason to think this. I have never recieved anything but friendship from you. This is a mental problem which I cannot fully repress.
I wonder now how many actual friends I may have had, that the paranoia pushed away. Did I have true friends in Sidney that I simply couldn't see? How much is real and how much is the product of a deranged mind?
I have wondered if I needed some sort of help (like psychologically). I don't know. I don't trust psychologists. I don't trust anybody, and I think that may be the root of all of my problems. Perhaps my mother is a perfectly normal person, but the paranoia skews everything (I actually doubt this, I think as do others that my mother has some real problems). What if my life isn't half as bad as I've made it out to be, but the paranoia just makes everything seem so much worse.
I went to a psychologist (or perhaps she was a psychiatrist, I don't know) when I was seven. I told her nothing. I knew anything I told her would be told to my mother, and I have never trusted my mother. I do not remember a single point of time wherein I trusted my mother. But I do not believe that psychologists are neccesary, not for me who already knows my problems. I do not believe that drugs are neccesary. I can fix any mental problem I have through sheer force of will.
I am actually having trouble thinking of anyone that I do trust implicitly. I am not even sure that I trust Zak implicitly, though I have far less issues with him than I have ever had with any other person. And most people have never given me a reason to not trust them; again, it's the nature of the problem.
I think some of this self-exploration may be what has driven me towards religion. No, I'm not a born-again Christian or anything, I'm still Satanist, I'm just thinking more about why I am a Satanist. It has to do with control. Satanism states that each person controls their reality and destiny. Historically i have never had control of anything, especially my own life. I like the idea that I control every aspect of my life. I like the idea that there is no god out there pulling the strings. Some people may not. Some people need gods. They need some one to turn to. They need some one to blame. I do not need a god. I turn to myself, I turn inward, I see knowledge from within. And if things fuck up, I blame myself, and try again harder.
But perhaps this philosophy is part of the problem. Maybe I should turn to others more often for help, insetead of relying solely on myself. But I don't know if I can, you see, not until I work through my paranoia issues.
Here's to paranoia.
L.A.