It does its thing. The odd thing about it is how reliably weird it is, and how I do not recognise until it has already happened why my life is full of rage and vile spite and uncertainty.
At some level, at some points in time, my brain is fundamentally unconvinced that it deserves to ever experience good things. All good things are lies, or traps, or bait: they exist only to make a more pointed mark when they disappear. Whether it's depression, or anxiety, or a Catholic school education that's at the root of this I don't know. I do know that I have a terrible tendency to self-sabotage.
Take, for example, the fact that I have fought with my parent over stupid things tonight. And cannot sleep, and by not sleeping may encourage myself into a relapse of this gods-cursed illness that I thought was nearly done but no! I woke up with a wheeze again today.
Right now, insists my brain, I deserve it. To deserve nice things, one has to become the equivalent of a nun and dedicate one's life to good works. Which - here is the catch! - will never be sufficiently good.
Brain squirrels. At this rate I may need to shoot myself with a tranquiliser gun to shut them up.
Brains are weird. It will be better when I can gym again.
At some level, at some points in time, my brain is fundamentally unconvinced that it deserves to ever experience good things. All good things are lies, or traps, or bait: they exist only to make a more pointed mark when they disappear. Whether it's depression, or anxiety, or a Catholic school education that's at the root of this I don't know. I do know that I have a terrible tendency to self-sabotage.
Take, for example, the fact that I have fought with my parent over stupid things tonight. And cannot sleep, and by not sleeping may encourage myself into a relapse of this gods-cursed illness that I thought was nearly done but no! I woke up with a wheeze again today.
Right now, insists my brain, I deserve it. To deserve nice things, one has to become the equivalent of a nun and dedicate one's life to good works. Which - here is the catch! - will never be sufficiently good.
Brain squirrels. At this rate I may need to shoot myself with a tranquiliser gun to shut them up.
Brains are weird. It will be better when I can gym again.