I just found out that the last blog sent emails to subscribers when I was sure I unchecked that option! Two poor souls opened update emails to read about my torn asshole. This is not what I wanted, and yet, I posted that info online.
I’m on a journey of self-discovery and it comes with failed attempts at self-awareness. I’m hoping my ridiculousness is at least funny on some levels but I can see how it’s just abrasive, too. I am really sorry about this. My bitter consolation at such points of no return is that victims and bystanders who were at risk of making similar mistakes are now inoculated from doing so.
Also, I’m lying to myself if I say it’s brave to write publicly about crazy shit. Posts like the last one don’t require courage. I’d locate the impetus somewhere between carelessness, curiosity, and self-destruction. The closest of these is curiosity, but it’s still a long way off.
To my fellow middle-aged edgelords who also haven’t outgrown the influence of a poor reading of David Fincher’s Fight Club adaptation: Self-destruction might have a veneer of badassery, but when you check into the feelings of it, it more closely resembles the opposite. It’s more like violent avoidance of the true self.
This suggests my true self is a delicate flower seeking privacy and respect, but I’m just not here for that right now. I’m regularly seeking ego-death as a means of enlightenment, but wiser people have found healthier, faster ways that don’t require them to show their whole ass to an unwelcoming public. (I’ve been looking into these higher methods.)
I have two objectives with this post. The first is to apologize for my oversharing in the last post. It occurred to me that if I can’t respect my own privacy, I’m probably not great at respecting the privacy of others. I’ve had issues with keeping secrets in confidence since I was a kid. I desperately want to change, so respecting my own privacy would be a remedial, foundational practice.
The second objective is to ask myself what real courage feels like. How do I know when I’m actually practicing it? I can tell oversharing ain’t it, so what is? Susan David said, “Courage is fear walking.” Thus, I can begin to recognize things like avoidance and procrastination as fear, and moving towards any task or person I’m avoiding can be celebrated as courage.
Maybe I can expand that into the realm of how I deal with boundaries. Instead of allowing the feeling of “NOPE DON’T WANT IT” to dictate my actions and create shitty false boundaries, what if I can recognize such aversion as a possible invitation? Is there a more appropriate way of turning this down? Why am I afraid to face this?
These questions are easy to find and ask, but sometimes they only scratch the surface of big, scary answers. I have some experience here, and I recommend engaging in this kind of self examination with the support of a therapist, especially if you’re chronically dysregulated. It’s necessary to continue striving in this area. As modern stoic Ryan Holiday has said, the obstacle is the way.
Something courageous I can start doing now is allowing comments on my posts. I felt justified early on in “setting the boundary” of not allowing the possibility of abrasive comments from judgmental jerkoffs, but even hate-readers would be owed a crumb of gratitude. More importantly, there’s no way to grow as a writer without feedback, no matter what its vibration: positive, negative, or inappropriate oddball candor. Let’s have it. The AI hasn’t been that much fun.
Thanks for reading, and thanks for sharing – maybe.
BLOG OF RHIANNIMATOR 