Hi guys,
……Yes, it’s another case of the welps, because yes, I didn’t blog three weeks ago. Maybe it’s because I had nothing to say. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I made chocolate evaporate somewhere in the world. Anyway, now to the current, what’s a guy to blog?
No, seriously, send me a topic. 2020 and how it’s like Thanos riding Cthulhu? The great Xbox X shortage and how Microsoft should have played Age of Covid? (Yes, I’d like to buy an Xbox. Yes, I’ve put a deposit on Cyberpunk 2077 because it comes out on my birthday. Yes, I can wait until then, but still, WTH?!) How hoping a certain someone who recently got Covid dies makes you a terrible person?
Maybe that lack of nicety is a good point. I don’t know if I want to go into it, “Who are you to push your morals on me.” It’s certainly saying something of divisive characters raising the hackles and ire of whole tracts of society, just as it’s saying something about you to celebrate illness – in my view, you may as well be mocking people with cancer. And given said individual mocked someone disabled, it makes you no better than them.
But there’s more
to lack of nicety in the external. What about the internal? Self-loathing is a
thing; I know it because I’ve been there, got the T-shirt, still wearing it.
These last two weeks I’ve had the S. H. I. T’s, especially on the roads, and as
much as I said my piece on external un-nicety times three Friday, it came back
to me on my recovery journey and a trip to the meeting room rather than on
Zoom.
Yes, those S. H.
I. T’s are mine, related to my internal pain rather than traffic or dabblers in
schardenfreude; well, highlighted, too. Not getting my way, getting slowed down,
held up. Seeing spitefulness, lording it over on people disliked. Yes, there is
an external cause of these things, but the hate is really against me. The only
options are to let it lord over me, or do something about it. But what?
I found the
answer to that this morning, thanks to that breeding dog known as hindsight, courtesy
of recovery. Maybe it can work for everyone in the self-loathing boat, but many
of those boats are far out to sea, the external and/or internal pain causing it
makes abstinence difficult, or nigh impossible. The short of it is marking it
as something not to do; the long of it is it takes a lot of work with stumbles
along the way, and needs help.
I don’t know if
I’m waffling on here or making a point. Maybe there isn’t a point, it’s for the
best, and I’m sorry about the chocolate. But please have a think about the
self-loather, and what’s going on for them to feel that way.
Hope you have a
good one,
T. M.
