Tower of Brahma 53: ideal identity ignorance (edit)
I was not doing well as 2008 was coming to an end. I was dating someone I had previously hurt a year earlier, and in the end the same reasons reared their head, and I proved once again that I couldn't really be with anyone, still heartbroken from the last girlfriend. She's here again as the psychotherapist, which I don't think I was seeing anyone quite yet, but eventually did go to a therapist, and psychiatrist the next year. Most likely these chapters I wrote in an effort to convince myself that it would indeed be okay if I did.
I break the fourth wall, in a sense, here in the middle, where I start talking about the break-up, and the hole I punched in the wall was literally in my bedroom wall when I woke up after Halloween. I'd never been one to punch things in frustration, but I just couldn't get out from under this overwhelming self-loathing. Also, the jagged lightning bolt scar here is the tattoo I got on the outside of my forearm. The rest of the chapter is a fictional account of being in an institution, but there is a deep, dark truth here.
I can't connect to anyone. I desperately want to connect to anybody. I try so hard with realtionships as that's what makes sense to me. Friends and family were always burdens to a certain degree, people you associated with because you had to, on some level. It's not that I like that, but maybe I am much more of a solitary person than I imagined myself to be. A writer must be I suppose, but also I have always felt so awkward, so hyper-aware of every nuance of personal interaction, drowning in each moment of anxiety that I am somehow not smart, not cool, not being however it is they want me to be.
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