Dostoevsky said “The more I love humanity in general the less I love man in particular”, I agree.
The problem is that with every man I hate (or woman for that matter), a part of my soul bleeds away its humanity. My general resentment and anger towards mankind keep on growing with every day; it’s poisonous; it’s not just making me hateful, it’s making me mean and cynical and not the fun kind of mean and cynical.
The deal I had with myself was to observe the things I dislike about life and people without letting it get into me, without allowing myself to judge it, just observe, and try to accept the things I cannot change, but never let it change me. I never said it was easy and I never said I succeeded every time for I know I have surely failed quite a few times, and I know damn well I paid for my failure in blood an tears and I am still having trouble processing it all.
Recently however, I can’t help but feel the anger building up, fueled by helplessness and despair, I feel the darkness growing inside me and making me envious and malicious in thoughts. I have come to wish people harm because I can no longer see justice, I can no longer believe they will eventually get what they deserve. I’ve been told I only see the part of the picture where they get away with the harm they have inflicted without anyone so much as pointing fingers at them, I’ve been told there shall be more to it, but I don’t care because with my bruised faith, I can’t acknowledge but what I see. It makes me worry about what it would come to if I could do more than wish them harm, would I bestow on them the pain I believe they deserve? Since when have I appointed myself to what people deserve and what they don’t??? It’s right there, I am becoming more judgmental by the day and it’s scaring me.
The slight shift of character is taking place right there! I always believed true change never happened vividly or dramatically; when it’s too obvious, it’s never real change, it’s rather a defense mechanism, unreal, and/or temporary. Real change however just happens, very slowly and subtly that you only recognize it in retrospect, just like the minute I caught myself wishing ill upon those who have wronged me instead of getting over it all already.
This is how societies have deteriorated, isn’t it? The “good” and the “moral” grew tired of fighting wrongdoings or were defeated time and time again. With every day their ethics and morals fail to protect them from the malice of others, they cease to overcome injustice (in whatever form it came); they stop thriving and all their energies are wasted on mere survival until even that becomes a luxury they simply can’t afford… And they slip, and it’s all downhill from there. Generation after generation, people no longer value those old ethics and morals that were once practiced because all but those morals had prevailed. This is what I see everyday in society and it always disturbed and saddened me. I always knew it was only a matter of time until I am as tainted as everyone else.
Two years ago, I wrote a post expressing my hurt and confusion, and only now do I recognize how it can be summed in Nietzsche’s words“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.” I feel like the world’s ugliness is eating up at me and making me as ugly. I don’t want to be ugly, I don’t want to be a monster, and neither do I want to learn to live among monsters, but I can feel something within me changing down within the folds of my silent rage.
I go further back to the first day I walked into a therapist’s office seven years ago and said those exact words “I think my anger is destroying me rather than giving me character”. Two sessions later the therapist said my anger was on the healthy side rather than alarming; she explained that we live in an abusive society where you can either get angry or depressed and that I was lucky to experience the earlier.
Back then, I had not yet unraveled so much about myself. I was much less informed and I also had faith, or at least I believed if I played my cards right, I could have God on my side. Now faith is another ongoing crisis; this time, I am fueled by a strong feeling that God had forsaken me. They say people usually find God or lose Him in times of adversity; I strongly reject to let either take place and it’s leaving me with even less to hold on to with all that’s going on. The things in which I could once believe are now alienating me and strengthening my feelings of estrangement to the extent that I have caught myself resorting to some kind of self-inflicted exile.
Another alarming thing is that I spent the past month or perhaps even more severely depressed that I barely left my bed, and before that I have been avoiding most of my friends willingly; what’s the point of having fun if all the negative things from which I run find their way to me the instant I am alone. I just surrendered and I was completely okay with my depression; I was no longer fighting it with anger.
There again, right there: another change that I notice right now in retrospect that had taken its course so subtly over the past couple of years only to show itself clearly right now.
A lot of things have been going on, and instead of writing like I once did, I kept it all to myself or limited it to empty angry rants to which my facebook contacts have been exposed. A part of me has been struggling with the whole writing process. Writing is a form of committing to certain thoughts, feelings, and beliefs, even with the full acknowledgement that all of it is subject to change, but I have been avoiding writing as if it would document my transformation. Whenever asked why I no longer write, I just mumble any nonsense and hope they change the subject. I could no longer deal with all the things I was served, let alone analyze them and diffuse them so they don’t explode.
So I either get too angry or too depressed? Is that what it all really comes down to???
I am a fighter, and I am a good person.
But I am losing, and I am not sure I want to remain good… or I do want to remain good, but I am aware that it’s not protecting me or even allowing me to survive.
So what? One of them shall eventually change, I will either be defeated or I will let go of parts of my soul to fit/survive.
I have no idea what will happen, nor do I think anyone has answers. I don’t want to be comforted or told that all of it shall pass or that I am blowing matters out of proportion. I am genuinely scared and I feel alone and forsaken, and if there was a time I would have reached out, I have learned the hard way that no one can help. I only wrote this as a form of rebellion against whatever it was that kept me from writing; it had to be let out somewhere.