On many occasions I've been told that my blog paints a rather bleak and depressing picture of my life. While I wish I could say that my life is pretty okay, reality bids me to be more concise on this point. In essence one could say that I'm trapped between two opposite forces, one trying to lead me to the by now well-known Dark Pit of Despair, the other to a happy and carefree life. The issue is that the latter force is like a fluffy rabbit trying to pull a plow through a rain-soaked field at times. It's cute and adorable, but is often rudely shaken by reality catching up with it.
I have often indicated that I truly do desire to be happy, that I don't like worrying and getting upset about things all the time. Likewise, I'd gladly be rich (I'm on the verge of bankruptcy) and banish war and violence from this world. It's called wishful thinking.
Yesterday I had to lie down on my bed for a while after I got a bloody nose. Lying down on one's back is the ideal way to deal with a bloody nose in my experience. Least messy as well, in theory. After having read a chapter in the current book I'm reading (The Death Gate Cycle series), I drifted off to sleep for a moment. Upon waking up my thoughts started straying and suddenly I found myself caught by the Vortex of Despair yet again. It did provide me with some useful insights, however.
The past weeks I have on multiple occasions at seeing random men on the streets, in shops and such, experienced a rather new sensation, namely that of thinking that I just saw the 'friend' who was so kind to rape me. Before I can't recall a single time when I had this sensation. Fortunately all those times were false alarm, as I'm not sure what I'd do if it really was him. Attack him? Stab him with the first sharp object I could find? Fall to the floor crying? I don't know.
Anyway, as I was lying on my bed yesterday I went over certain events in my life. My first sexual experience was being raped... the next experiences were negative as well as no attention was being paid to my issues, which'd have interfered anyway. It's just hopeless. I just had to be born intersexual... gifted... growing up isolated, without friends, without experiencing physical contact in any sense... and then it hit me why I had responded so strongly last Wednesday at the announcement.
All men are rapists. Women who have sex with men are being raped. Women who get pregnant have been raped and have to suffer the consequences of it. They've been brainwashed in feeling happy about their horrible fate. I hate men so much. This is the universal truth according to my subconsciousness.
With a certain feeling of bitterness I had to admit that apparently the effect of being raped myself, combined with all the stories from friends about their experiences as well as other factors have created this huge trauma inside me. Now I finally understand more of my behaviour, yet with this knowledge comes the realization that I've got a really big problem, as this trauma really does interfere with my ability to interact with others.
When I told NG about this yesterday (with some nice blood on my face as I got another bloody nose when I was crying, yet with a stuffed nose the blood can only go out), I also told him that I'd probably agree to receive help from psychologists there in Rotterdam if my experiences next Friday there are positive.
By God, let them be positive...