So, I’ve just spent what could have been a lovely weekend away camping, angry and obsessed about other campers’ seemingly inconsiderate behaviour. Essentially, I have been alternatively fantasizing about inflicting extreme violence on the perpetrators, and berating myself for being a coward for not doing just that. The most I managed was a somewhat polite shout across the lake, asking them to ‘Knock it off already!’ – no response!
It wasn’t until my wife started to cry when I in answer to her question, ‘What are you doing?’ I snapped, “Well, I’ve had to listen to these cunts all weekend. Let’s see how they like some Motorhead.” She all but burst into tears. Now who’s the cunt?! Great, a day of apologies and shame ahead.
My wife informed me that she had never seen me like that. That normally I’m so loving, attentive and present, but that for this weekend I’ve been snappy, and, well, absent. Truth be told, it’s not that these particular campers were really bad, but they were very nearly the straw that broke the camel’s back.
I’m far from well. Since as long as I can remember, I’ve carried (and nurtured) a deep-seated belief that I’m inadequate – not man enough, cowardly. I feel like I’m either on the brink of suicide – something I haven’t felt for seven or more years – or murder. I just want to let rip on somebody – on everybody, anybody really. All the people who have bullied me, injured me, stabbed me in the back, taken the piss etc. I just want to experience that out-of-body feeling that comes with intense rage and pummel the fuck out of somebody (who in my eyes deserves it), no holds barred. What’s wrong with me? I really do feel as though I’m nearing the end of my rope.
I think I know why I want to inflict violence: I think that doing so will finally prove that I am man enough, and that the constant angst I feel about confrontation will finally dissipate – but it won’t, will it?! It’s also, I believe, in response to my feelings of powerlessness and vulnerability. I also suspect it’s my body’s way of seeking relief from the constant flow of adrenaline – something that’s neither doing my heart or stomach good.
I hate to admit this, but I’m glad to be home. It was the opposite not so long ago, yet it seems that with each passing moment, I am becoming less and less tolerant of the human race, and less and less able to be around them. I have zero friends (literally); I can’t stand to listen to the radio, watch certain things on TV. I can’t even walk outside my front door to get the mail without wishing death on the fuckers who insist on delivering the free local newspaper even though I have a sign requesting no such material. My neighbours can’t sneeze in their own gardens without my mind conjuring up some scenario that involves me crashing through the fence in a rage with a baseball bat like some deranged loony.
I’m seriously, and ashamedly, thinking about medication. Something has to give, and I don’t want it to be my temper as that would potentially have legal consequences. Last thing I want to be is somebody’s bitch in prison for bludgeoning some poor fucker to death; and I’d feel horrendous guilt, no doubt. Violence and conquering seems all romantic in my mind, even just, as though I’m merely teaching somebody a lesson; but the harsh reality is very different.
I’m also starting to worry that I might be heading down the suicide route. I had some rather strange thoughts the other day; but to admit that I, the great Aksenty, ‘might’ be mentally ill, seems too big of a step. You see, I despise the label, I despise the industry, and quite frankly I’m sick to death of hearing about mental illness. Who wouldn’t be after having lived with it for almost 40 years? Is it wrong that I feel little, if any, compassion for others who suffer mental illness? I seemingly couldn’t care less. It is what it is, I suppose.
It’s getting late, and I’m starting to ramble. Not that it really matters; my nights are fraught with insomnia, sleep apnea and night terrors. I’ll go and let the dogs out and stare up into the night sky, gently reminded of a time when I used to look up in wonder, only now I see a purposeless, empty, irrelevant void slowly traversing its course to annihilation.