With parties come the inevitable confrontation with the lives of others, including - naturally - all of the couples. Yesterday's party was another such memorable event. It's a familiar thing to many and thus I won't harp on it too much. To me it's mostly about the implications to me as a person. What it means for me to see couples with their near-constant obsessive fondling and more, for example.
Do I hate seeing couples like that? Does it make me want to yell and throw stuff at them because they Have It, and I Do Not? If only things were that simple, really. While I do remember being together with someone else in a similar fashion and the comfort that brings, mixed with those pleasant memories are also the traumas involving men. Not only involving myself but also others. Then there are the traumas involving girls using me. Then finally the toxic sludge that is the possession of a physical body and the horrible traumas that spawn from this fact, such as sexuality.
I hate bodies, sexuality, couples, men, women, everything related to it. All because it is all in some manner traumatic to me. I feel horrible every day about having a body universally loathed by physicians. About psychologists gleefully trying to brainwash me into believing lies about myself. Society trying to force stereotypes and images on me which just hurt me.
Happiness hurts. That's probably an abstract way to summarise things. My body doesn't provoke happiness for myself, or for others. Nothing I do or say is that important to this other special person. All I struggle with on a daily basis is to stay stable, capable of dealing with daily life and attempt to recover from sudden assaults and setbacks as quickly as possible. Life to me is more like a war. There is no happiness in a war.
To me it's not about being happy. Yes, of course I wouldn't mind finding that wonderful person with whom I could share the rest of my life and be grateful for every moment together. I'd be a complete idiot to mind that. The point I think is more that of facing reality instead of losing oneself in dreams and 'what-ifs'. At this point there is nothing which would warrant me spending energy on finding such a type of happiness. Survival, including staying the hell away from another suicide attempt, is definitely far higher on my priority list.
Maybe some day, when my life no longer is about survival. Until then I'll just have to grit my teeth and ignore those bloody annoying couples flaunting their soggy happiness.
...or maybe I should just be searching for a fellow compatriot instead for this war of mine. It's not like I'm in any form or shape 'normal', nor will my background or future ever be. Maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree and that what part of me perceives to be 'happiness' is merely a preprogrammed part of my brain responding and making me believe things. The desire to be 'normal', like everyone else, and 'fit in' is in that regard the obviously wrong approach.
Preprogrammed nonsense or rational thought? Tough one...