///FADING///

 

Detachment as a sort of refuge. Antisociology -- I always come back to it. It's my natural state: a hermit, a loner, a preference for solitude, comfort with solely my own company. Just as they say only speak if your words are more valuable than silence, only seek the company of others if their presence is more valuable than yours alone.

It's ironic though: I detach from society oftentimes then, conversely, I detach from myself just as wholly. I will give my whole being to give and care for others; putting their needs before mine as if it's beneficial somehow. But I learn time and time again that condemning oneself to a life of pure selflessness is not as wonderful as it seems. Utter selflessness can become dark, twisted; it can become neglect of self, it can become deprivation of your own needs, it can become starvation of your deserving spirit.

Thus, balance. Balance is always key. I am relentlessly reminded through shitty situations of this dire fact of existence. One must balance selflessness with selfishness. Selfish so commonly has a negative connotation -- of greed, of disgusting self interest. But I believe selfishness can also be self care, self love, thoughts and actions with your own best interest at heart (all things I am constantly having to learn and relearn because self-hatred, sadly, is a frequent knocker on my psyche's door).

The strands of my soul are incessantly being torn in polar directions. I can feel the deepest guilt and shame and embarrassment for surrendering to solitude and not speaking to or seeing friends for months on end. And I can feel the most self-deprecating resentment and loss of self when I repeatedly and consciously push my own needs aside to tend to the voids of others. I wonder -- do I hide in the confines of my house, the corners of my mind when I cannot stand society; and burrow myself, lose myself in the company of others when I cannot stand myself?

Solitude and socializing; depression and happiness; work and play, hate and love, complete destruction and utter peace -- it's comes so easily, so logically, so naturally for others to find a calming midpoint with such matters. But, for me, all I've ever known were the binary extremes.

Too much and not enough.

And nothing in between.


fast fading away from myself
just as much
as i am fading away from you


(AKA when you bipolar AF but don't fuck wit labels 😂)

Mental disease is so widely bandaided with pharmaceutical drugs, when really it is just that: a dis-ease.
An uneasiness of character that can be remedied with deep, difficult insight; healing from within rather than from without.