Content Warning: Depression is talking, probably. (I’m only typing this on my blog instead of a text document because I’m hoping someone has a logical rebuttal that refutes the shit out of my perspective.) Otherwise, skip it.
Today has sucked since 2:38 AM. That’s when the Depression Monster mentioned a distraction from reality is my only survival strategy. I tried to disprove it and failed. It’s ironic. Maintain sanity by forcing myself not to focus on the world outside my head (much.) It’s not optional (for me), which pisses me off. I don’t have free will in this life. I have to protect myself or peace out.
Psychopaths are the only ones with free will on this planet. Reality keeps proving those who feel no empathy or remorse survive. I had no idea I was an NPC (non-player character.) I’ve joked about being an extra in someone else’s life lots of times, but I didn’t believe it. We’re all extra’s in the lives of psychopaths. Earth is their domain.
It turns out, empathy and remorse are terrible for my health. It leads to agonizing over things with which I have no control. Things that have already happened. Things others choose to do. It forces me to shield myself from reality out of self-preservation. But of course, it’s not always possible. I’m sofa king tired of being triggered on a daily basis.
I know too much and have seen too much. When I initially found out about AIDS, it took a long time to convince myself existing still had merit. It was the first time in my life I realized I have to pretend to survive. It sometimes makes me feel unreal. 2017 is an unrelenting trigger for the worst day of my life.
I visited the Dachau memorial in southern Bavaria while stationed in Germany. I saw Schindler’s List. It leveled me. But it still didn’t compare to spending hours walking around, seeing, touching, and processing the reality. It rained the day before we visited, and while it’s probably a hysterical reaction, I could smell death. I went with a couple from my church. They were wonderful people.
I had to get away from everyone as soon as we left the entry building, where they showed horrific footage of mounds of gold teeth, a pit full of naked, emaciated human bodies, etc. You couldn’t tell male from female, they were just skin over bones. I walked the perimeter along the barbed wire fence first.
I was in a daze. I felt like I swallowed a watermelon, and it lodged in my throat, like on a cartoon. I looked at (memorized) every art installation. I stood in the crematorium and the gas chamber. I was surprised by how low the ceiling was in the gas chamber. It looked like a community shower for Hobbits. (6 ft. -ish)
I ended my tour by laying in a bunk inside the only remaining barracks. (The others were just outlined on the ground.) They were narrower than a twin bed, made of wood, and three levels high. Most people would have had to climb over other bunks to get to their own, as there was no space in-between. I lay on the top level near the wall and wept.
I don’t remember how long we were there, or the ride back. I just remember calling my mom and begging her to come to Germany (because I didn’t want to be a human anymore.) I hate that I’m bawling as I type this. Time doesn’t heal shit. (At the time, I was about a year into recovering from being raped and left for dead on my first night in the country.) My mom told me to go out and see as much of Germany as possible, so I could bury the bad memories in good ones.
Her advice was spot on, but visiting Dachau was so much worse. Every negative thing that’s ever happened in my entire life combined pales in comparison. I’m just one person. I thought I knew what evil was before I visited. I had no idea. It did put my aftermath into perspective, but holy shit. It made me afraid of myself at first because I know the people who participated in this evil are fundamentally no different from me. It forced me to recognize my capacity for evil.
It was when I began obsessively training my mind to choose righteousness over all else, including my life. I only went back to church once after that, and it was just to tell God off. (Despite the fact I’m rambling and seem to have no point, this is helping me settle, for some reason.) My mom stayed in Germany for two months. When she left, I had a survivable perspective.
It was the beginning of the end of my military career, however. I managed to have an incredible last year, though. (Then I paid for it.) I’m still glad I did it, though. It’s the only time I’ve ever been in awe of myself, and that’s a wicked awesome feeling. I don’t like being a civilian, but whatever.
Sigh. I inhale and exhale because I know I’m strong-willed and will absolutely resist participating or contributing to the evil going on all around me at all times. I breathe because nobody will ever manage to force me to harm another.
I guess I accept I need to live my life as joyfully as possible for whatever time I have left. Even if it ends tomorrow, it will still have been an incredible ride, and for that, I’m grateful. I’m off to pretend my heart isn’t shaking.