We are all walking contradictions (and there’s no cure for it).

[Dür Ktulhu]

This time I will write less eloquently. Some people think I write with laughter and not seriously, because of my literary style and vivid descriptions. I also enjoy looking at taboo subjects in an exotic way, which, of course, angers everyone. I suppose it's just by chance that I encounter uneducated, foolish people, or teenagers, or marginal nonconformists who were given a brain by mistake. But that's beside the point, as Dostoevsky would say.

You know, this time I want to write about how damn hard it is… when you're a melancholic misanthrope—add to that snobbery, cynicism, narcissism—but at the same time sensitivity, compassion, and a loyal, fervent heart… yet with cold hands and a cold mind… This dividedness, it seems, will never give us peace (and I'm talking about all of you too, even if you don't realize it). Two souls, alas! reside within my breast, and each withdraws from, and repels, its brother! — Faust, Goethe.

Once, uneducated, I couldn't give form and shape to these dissonances and contrasts that make up each of us, but I felt them vaguely, instinctively. I felt it was a problem to be solved, a sickness to be torn out of my chest. But of course, nothing was resolved—I was mistaken: Faust couldn't handle it either, let alone me. What does he say? Ah, two souls… two souls… but neither wins; all that remains is to accept the inner fracture as a lifelong diagnosis.

Now I've grown wiser and understand… the essence of these inner storms. Their insolubility is the only thing that's been resolved. What exactly? That there is no cure. These contrasts are killing us; they cannot be resolved, gotten rid of, or fixed. We will live with this and suffer from our own multiplicity of souls until the end of our days, and nothing can be done about it. That's all.

 

[deny_conformity]

I've often been described as a walking contradiction. I guess it comes with the territory of having bipolar.

I think you're correct that we have some inner turmoil with different parts of our being vying for dominance. I think this manifests itself in our suicidality.

I'm looking for a way to subdue the turmoil, I've tried alcohol and it's a very temporary solution. I'm now trying the mental health treatment option. Not that I had much choice - if I don't engage with the outpatient team I will likely find myself as an inpatient. A gilded cage I'm happy to flutter around in because I have the illusion of freedom.

Maybe recovery is possible? Maybe I can be at peace with myself. Without resorting to suicide. The only time I've felt at peace was when I passed out and thought I was dying and for the days after my coma where I wasn't sure if I was alive.