Slave to the Pain

It is five AM on Wednesday morning, and I am sitting at my desk in another caffiene-dampened, bleary eyed insomnia haze that seem to be so common in my life. I haven't gotten a proper night's sleep since I think October of '07 when that old nemesis from my past, Self-Esteem, reared his ugly head again. To properly tell you this story I've got to backtrack to that day.

I had just gotten back from leave after my first deployment, and had parked my Honda in a municipal lot just outside base. Trusting that the city wouldn't have it towed over the course of eight days since my cousin had never gotten back to me on parking at his place and had failed to return any of my calls, I went straight to the lot to grab my car. I was already late coming back off of leave due to a scheduling conflict with the airline, and I wanted to make sure everything was in order before I had to deal with khakis (Senior NCOs and officers in the Navy). When I stepped into the parking lot, my car was gone. That little troll in my head tried to start his old routine again, the nasty phrases, the hateful words, and I did what I had been doing surprisingly well for the past few months. I pushed him aside. I was picked up by my Chief at the gate, I explained the situation to him, then to my Division Officer, then to my Aux Officer. They were very understanding and let me off with a warning. This was not the last time the troll would show itself again, no sir, not by a long shot. Once the troll comes back after hiding for a while, it gets harder and harder to push away, he comes back stronger and stronger, until eventually you start listening and doing exactly what it wants.

Soon the troll was back in earnest, and it was getting so hard to fight it off that I wasn't eating, I wasn't sleeping, and I wasn't communicating with anyone in my division except when they pestered me to the point where the troll took over and I flew into a rage. I began alienating everyone again, acting like a jackass, not caring about my appearance or the quality of my work or the fact that I wasn't even qualified to tag out equipment. No, all I wanted was to spread hate everywhere I went. It was just like highschool all over again, I was so convinced that everyone was out to get me that I just had to let everyone know that I wanted them to hate me. It made their job of trying to "get me" easier. Everything that happened was everyone elses fault, the troll told me, they're just a bunch of dickheads that don't even want to try to understand you. While there were a few, most everyone really only wanted to help. I was just to busy trying to make everyone feel the way I felt. Like absolute shit. Worthless. I've always subconciously felt worthless, never good enough, always never doing enough and always doing everything wrong. I don't care, I've never cared, I just want to stay inside my little shell of hate and anger and lies where I'm safe from the rest of the shallow, stupid world. Right?


Inside my shell, it's a fantasy world where I reign supreme and I always get revenge on everyone that's wronged me. I always come out on top and I always get the girl. Then I have to come out and realize that after all of the trouble I made, after they sent me to see a psychiatrist because my family threatened to call my Skipper if I didn't do it myself. I don't want the skipper involved, I just want this out of my way so I can go back into my shell. The psych says that I am dangerous, that I'm a borderline schizoid with a severe personality disorder, that I'm unfit to serve and I have to go home, no more Navy for you Sailor. And I think well fuck you Mr. Psychiatrist, I didn't want to be here anyway. Screw the fact that I had friends that cared about my well being and just wanted me to be okay. Screw the fact that I had a steady paycheck and I was paying my bills and keeping my credit afloat. I wanted to hurt myself some more, so if he wants to kick me out, fine. I still win because I'll be miserable and everyone will see that and say maybe we were wrong. Maybe he wasnt all that bad, maybe he could've shaped up. And then I realize that they're glad to be rid of me. And now all I can do is go back to the manipulative dipshits that made me leave in the first place and start the cycle all over again. Because in the end, I like the pain, I like the alienation, I like it when the only solution is to get violent with people when they steal my things and pawn stuff I let them borrow for drug money. It's not like I need someone to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay, it's alright, you'll get through this somehow. Fuck that, it's better to just bottle everything up and let burn you from the inside, right? Right?



Jesus I'm tired...

Love and Consumerism: Exercises in futility

Love, the most lethal four letter word in the English Language. Why, you ask? Because it's wrought more destruction on the human race than any other word, phrase, or statement in our lexicon. Think about it: Fall of Troy? Love. Battle of Thermopolae? Love of Power. Fall of Rome? Love of Gluttony. Both World Wars? Again, a Love of Power. Every time we do something stupid and nonsensical, it's usually due to a love of something. I love Double Doubles from In n' Out Burger. When I was living in San Diego, people would ask me what brought me there. Truthfully, it was the Navy, but my usual response was "In n' Out Burger." Generally for shock effect, but I really do love Double Doubles, and I will go to any length to get one within reason. I would fly from Manchester to San Fran for a Double Double. No joke. Hell, If it were legal, I'd marry one and eat it at the reception.
Even the destructive cocktail of hormones that rush through your Endocrine System from ages 13 to 25 are misconstrued as love and make you do stupid, nonsensical things. Like dating someone for a month and then getting married on a whim at 19. I know people who have done this and gotten divorced shortly afterwards. Either that or they cling to some false hope that it can work for he next eight years and then split. Either way, dumb idea.
Next? Consumerism. An elaborate hoax developed by banks and large conglomerates to keep you under their thumbs. It's true, and the evidence is right there in front of your face in the place you're most often facing: your television. What's the first thing that pops in to your head as soon as you see that new plasma TV in an advertisement? I have to have that, I need to have that, I want that TV, I've got to have that TV! And why? Because you've been conditioned to want the newest, latest, bestest most shiniest prettiest stuff from a young age. So you go to buy that TV, but you find out that you can't quite afford it. So you do the next best thing and finance it. Great, you've got that awesome new plasma, now you're in debt, and have to make a payment every month plus interest. Bam, now whatever company you bought the TV from is making even more money, and the cycle continues. More debt, more interest, more debt, more interest. Buy and sell, buy and sell, Pimps and Whores, Pimps and Whores. In the end, that's what it all comes down to. We're really just whores for the giant conglomerates running the economy, it's grown out of control. And yet we pass this behavior on to our children, and so on, and so on. This cycle needs to stop, and stop soon, or soon we'll all just be mindless slaves to our emoitional impulses and physical wants.