Sunday, 30 June 2019

One day

I've been feeling a new kind of desperation recently. Maybe it's because I'm officially one year older than I was before.

I went out to celebrate with a few friends last night. It's not the first time I've felt completely lonely amongst company. It's strange. Like you're surrounded by people but you feel as if you have very little in commmon. Friends are nice... but there are things where I am quite reluctant to share with the friends I currently have... our bond with each other is far too shallow. Fun is to be shared, but misery is to be kept. You don't need to have a lot in common if you define your boundaries that way.

I've been searching for that kind of relationship, where I can relate. I want to breathe the air they breathe, feel the pain they feel, and become accustomed to each others' warmth.

I've always been an over-the-top romanticist.

Modern relationships don't really live up to my ideals. Monogamy is going out of fashion, it seems. Everyone wants a taste of polyamory, everyone wants to know what it feelse to be "open" and "free". I am far too jealous to share my love with another. It takes so much effort to care about just one person, I cannot imagine dedicating an equal amount to another- let alone multiple people.

It doesn't help that I have the strangest quirks, and I will find the most inane reasons to reject someone. Their voice is too high/ their smile is too creepy/ I don't like that accent/ I'm really bothered by that catch-phrase/ and no, no thanks... you're just a tad too ugly and I am convinced I can do so much better. Also, the dating process is just so BORING. "Like to travel/gym/eat food/walk by the beach/love dogs/drink coffee/drink alcohol/watch Netflix" Great, thanks. Me too. It's not that I want to argue politics or explore philosophy on every date, but I feel like if you don't agree on fundamental things sooner or later everything's going to go belly up.

Sooner or later I'm going to have to learn to compromise... but inside my head my own voice mocks me, "did you work this hard just to make compromises?" Yeah, I guess I can see why pride is a sin.

Somewhere buried in all this is my own need to be needed. Maybe that's why I don't mind my job as much as I should- because in this job I can delude myself that I AM needed. What will they do without me? If I take even one single day off, how will the system function? Our resources are so stretched, after all. Yet deep down I know, the world will go on with or without me.

We all want to believe that our lives have consequence. I remember, years ago, when I was feeling quite desperate- I asked, "is my life so insignificant that my death could not even break one person?" I wanted there to be someone I could hurt- to show that I mattered to someone, to show that I was loved. I'm glad to be past that now- it was a terribly maladaptive way of thinking. What was I even trying to achieve?

What I need to learn, after all, is to stop measuring myself by other people's standards. I need to believe that I have inherent value- all the superficial things like looks/money/education aside. It's SO hard. It's all I've been taught to work towards- and probably what I've dedicated most of my time to. Trying to rewire my brain, so that one day I can be comfortable and say, "hey, I'm Vane. I'm kind, I'm caring, I love life for what it has to offer and I'm okay with being flawed and vulnerable" <- literally everything I'm not right now...

One day.



Saturday, 18 May 2019

Poverty of choice

Written on 02/03/19
-when I forgot to post.--------------------------------

This is a bit heavy but I need to rant a little after a shit day at work.

It's been 3 months since I last wrote... and I think I only forgot to write because I was having such a great time in the country. Well, I resented the fact that I was in the country (I don't think I'll ever be much of a country boy) but my colleagues were lovely and I overall had such a good time.

Now I'm back in the city, where my colleagues are still lovely but the work is actual dogshit. I skip breakfast/lunch/dinner variably somedays and I rely on random bits of chocolate to keep my sugar levels high enough during the day. That's all fine, because I'm young and energetic and I bounce back after a good weekends' sleep.

What I don't really bounce back from is situations which challenge my moral boundaries.

I don't talk about work much at all, to try and protect the privacy of the people I work with. This will sound rather vague, but I'm a huge fan of dying with dignity. Fundamentally I think if people have the choice to live, they have a choice to die. It's all a bit murky when a person is deemed to "lack capacity". Capacity relates to the ability of a person to make decisions, and ultimately it is hinged on the person's ability to understand, to express a preference, being able to retain the information presented, using consequential reasoning (what will happen if I do or don't), and sustain belief in what is being said. When someone tells me they'd rather die, my first response (internally) has always been "oh holy shit".

Expressing a wish of death seems to go against the very core of human nature, where people have done literally anything to survive. It has been coded in our DNA. So something MUST have gone wrong, when a person is either openly or implicitly choosing death. I think pain is a fairly good motivator, but I think many people fail to realise that there are many forms of pain. It seems unfair for us to make judgments on the value of a life, because life is full of endless potential and possibilities, and some people believe that all life are sacred to begin with. Except we make value judgments all the time. It used to be that whether someone lived or died was due to the will of nature, and as difficult as it was to realise, humans have expiry dates. Now we have a range of technologies which can defy the course of nature, and we try to "fix" the problem in front of us without thinking about the implications of what we are doing.

We continue to defy the belief that death is inevitable, and through this we push through.

Sometimes we bring miracles, and we are entertained by the illusion that we are God. That we can now grant life, whereas previously we only learned to take. What we forget sometimes is that death is a gift of its own. Death is the release from pain, from suffering, from torture. When the benefits of living no longer outweigh the benefits of dying, it is very logical to argue for death.

...Even if you gave up logic, you must acknowledge that death is an inevitability, and it is as much of a right as living. Yet we let our egos get to our heads and we keep people alive long after their expiry. We make may excuses. For love, we say. For the law forbids it, we say. For our profressional duties, we say. Against their wishes to die, we keep them alive, not because we should, but because we CAN. The fear of death can be so ingrained into our being that we think it applies to everyone on this planet. What choice do you have, but to keep living, when you are weak and knocking on deaths door, but your "carers" refuse to let you enter? What choice to do you have, but to continue to suffer in life, when the comfort of death is denied?

It was never me who suffered the poverty of choice. It was those whose rights I had inadvertently denied.