Tuesday, 14 August 2012

Too much thinking and SHBs but I set something in motion

Virgil (curse him) once told me that people who read self-help books use them to replace real change with reading self-help books. I think I use SHBs in times of crisis to get myself back on the straight and narrow, to tame my violent mind and unruly thoughts. When things start to spiral out of control SHBs can offer some perspective and stop me flying off the handle. I just bought another one. It's by Wayne Dyer. I'll let you know how it goes.

The thing with self-help books is that I FORGET WHAT I HAVE READ. I've read two this year: Angry All The Time and When Everything Changes, Change Everything. I recommend them both. SHBs make sense when you read them. They definitely help. Sadly, usually within a couple of months my beastly old brain reasserts itself and it's almost as though I never read them. Or maybe it's not so bad, because I could always go back and reread them again. I think I will do that. It will not be like having to start from scratch; it's more about reminding myself.

It's not ok to tell Virgil to fuck off, or tell him that he's a cunt and I hate him, every time he does something that upsets me. It's not fair on him to be a well of misery when I see him when much of that misery is anger.

But goddamn I've been in the most terrible spiral this last week. A crazy, bitter monologue plays out in my head about the doomedness of everything. I think: our relationship is breaking up. We love each other but we want different things. It's too difficult to spend time together at the moment. I'm not strong enough to do this. I can't handle having an open relationship.

I'm breaking all the self-help rules. I'm creating a nightmare reality for myself, a hell to live in, somewhere to curl up under a stone and give up without having to change anything. I'm needlessly torturing myself and I know it without knowing why. I should start counting my blessings and looking on the bright side. It could be so much worse.

I think: what could be worse now? I could have cancer. My mum could have cancer. There's nothing like a terminal diagnosis to put everything in perspective. There's a part of my mind - the ego, I believe - and I think it's just fucking everything up. It thinks it's helping me but it's not.

We have a bit of a chat about it today and it clears the air a bit. I ask him about Sarah. I say: 'So when am I going to meet her?'

Virgil raises his eyebrows: 'Are you ready to meet her?'

'Of course I'm not 'ready' to meet her,' I scoff. 'But I think it has to be done. If you're dating this person you should introduce me to her. So do it please.'

I think fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck. I don't want to meet Sarah because it gives her CREDIBILITY and suggests that I ACCEPT that Virgil is 'dating' her, which I don't, really, yet. I decide that the reason I want to meet Sarah is because it might make it easier for me in some way, on some level.

There's no such thing as lucky. I fucking LOATHE the idea of meeting Sarah. I have no idea at all what we might even talk about - about Virgil? I can imagine being incredibly rude and frosty. I would look like an idiot because of it, of course. It would be better if it was some very neutral place and not for long. I think about ten minutes would be long enough. I hope the reality will be better than the idea of it. That's all.

Oh, I know, I'm catastrophizing and conjuring some warped reality to make myself feel bad. Maybe another day I will sit down and rewrite the scene to my own advantage. I will change the reality to one that suits me. I could be charming and considerate to Sarah, who after all is only a person. I've seen pictures of Sarah. She looks pretty normal. Of course, Virgil is into her so she can't be that ordinary. But then again Virgil loves me, so I can't be that ordinary either, can I?

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