I Can See For Miles – Straight Down

Stephen Pimley | Thoughts | Monday, July 2nd, 2007

I have been meaning to make this post for roughly a month now. After returning from the Borderline symposium I had initially intended to write something about the experience that would at least let people know I was trying to better myself. Before such thoughts could carry into motion I quickly redacted to the truth of quite the opposite. Of all the words to remain jumbling around my head since then is the simple advice, “friends and relatives need to always remember that no matter how painful the consumer can be, they are not their disease.” Now, as then, I can only disagree. I am my disease and nothing more. I don’t know how one can separate their self from the ailment that controls all aspects of life. At early times I would feel as if something was consuming me bit by bit. Another night of fitful sleep, another delicious morsel of identity gone forever. There was some compartmentalization done. Some fragmenting off into the distant regions of mind for safe keeping. I can’t pinpoint when it occurred but I feel strongly now that all those troves simply died off as I have yet to recover anything but painful, useless memories. I am my disease and nobody can subtract me from myself however hard they try. I don’t understand the efforts made by others and expected of myself. The therapy is just a joke for people that can help themselves as long as they have an excuse with which to make it happen. The prescriptions simply served to make me more confused or to hide one symptom while stoking the flames of another. I haven’t been to the support group in about a year. I think about it a lot but I just can’t trust myself to represent the goals genuinely. People struggling to help their loved ones don’t need me around when all I want is for people to give up on me. Sometimes I can make strides towards achieving that but it takes quite some direction.

My instincts scream in the face of the self-preservation I wish were elective.

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