(83) "rescu(ing) me"
(image courtesy of unknown artist on weibo)
i'm not sure how to make this one nice.
how to make it palatable. how to wrap it up in a neat, put-together bow that bounces ever-so-slightly as it's tied off in a flourish.
i've reached depths that i haven't truly sunk to since before i went back into hospital. and i wobbled in those depths, i flailed, i panted and paddled and gasped and reached out and cried and screamed until my throat itself gave out.
until i was a shaking, shivering shell of myself, the very same self that had proudly taken the reigns of her psychology session and designed a 10 point plan to challenge, log, dissect and deconstruct every wobbly thought and compulsion that my own mind threw my way.
because i knew myself, and my treatment, inside out. i'd been living it, after all, and have done so for years and years.
so why now, is it that i'm falling, spiralling, so spectacularly out of life? crashing down in a icy-cold, hopelessly brilliant ball of flame every time that i get one message too many or too few, or see someone working harder than me, eating less than me, or doing... better than me?
have i truly been damaged beyond true repair?
maybe. but then again, i cannot claim to know the limits of the human body, let alone my own. its capability to adapt, to heal, to survive. and i believe that not only is it still doing that, but that this is the very sign of it doing so.
because i think i feel the earth-shattering signs of a part of me dying.
a part of myself, that has driven me through fear, obsession and a relentless, uncompromising demand for control, to both my highest of highs and my absolute lowest of lows. a festering part of me that feeds and feeds and feeds, so that i simply cannot. that demands a diet of absolute perfection, purity, abstinence, and standards that climb higher and higher and higher until the gates of heaven have both been reached and torn well off their hinges.
when you begin to truly exorcise a demon, especially one that's had 9 long years to entrench itself deep within you, setting down lecherous roots stretching into the deepest recesses of your soul; it does not go down without a fight.
the fact that i can so vividly, painfully feel the reverberations of its putrid, dying screams like this is not a sign of weakness, or that i'm falling from grace.
but a sign that a part of me is dying, so the rest of me can begin to live.
and as linked in a previous entry, Kelsey Osgood said it best:
Being reborn is difficult, precisely because so much of your former self has to die.
remember that, if "it" feels this wrong, what i'm doing is right.
~ juni.
this entry's "curated collection":
| 🌟🎶 Musical Pick(s) of the Week! 🎶🌟 |
taking back curation from algorithms: one human recommendation at a time.
collated quotes:
And of course, the reward for becoming more efficient is exactly what it has always been: more work. If AI makes you 10x faster, nobody says, “Amazing. Please enjoy your afternoon!” They ask why you’re not doing 10x more. Productivity gains get absorbed immediately by the system, which is very on-brand for tech.
misc. internet finds:
- The Hacker News tarpit (Westenberg)
- The Hero's Journey is a Cult
- Digital Justice Society
- Tech Vexed: How digital life threatens our capacity for awe
cybersec/tech:
- Cracking a Malvertising DGA From the Device Side - an interesting reverse engineering of a malvertising domain generating algorithm, to programatically block future "random" domains generated.
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