Heavily bandaged, shrapnel in my side, the shell calls me again. The shell. The self. The shell. The self. Where does one end and the other begin? The barbed-wire baton is passed back and forth quicker than the eye can see. No reflection. All reflections. Introspection. Contradiction. Why cannot I maintain who I am?
Napalm showers to show this coward that my brain’s not here to fuck around. Brain matter on the wall, dripping as it falls, only to remind myself of the cyclical nature of it all. Blood boiling, ground soiled, the rage is here again. It won’t stay, I hope and pray, and the status quo will this time stay. Clusterfucked, thunderstruck, it will all come back one day. No control, ripped and torn, I wait for the deluge to end. Sinew flowing, mind-blowing, just please God, let it all stop.
I touched a bit on my anger management issues in the previous post, but I wish to elaborate a bit further with this one. In many ways, the psychopathic condition is one of being child-like. We don’t like doing our “chores” (parasitism), we reach out for shiny objects that catch our eye (impulsivity), and we often cannot regulate our own behaviors (poor behavioral controls). The jury seems out as to whether the majority of psychopaths have the anger problems that I do. Sometimes I am painfully slow to anger, and other times I am set ablaze by the tiniest ember. There does not seem to be rhyme nor reason to whether I am slow burning or whether I immediately punch my red button and go nuclear.
I am a loose cannon. I rarely consider what the best long-term plan is and give undue weight to what satisfies in the present. My narcissism may require a modicum of validation from other people, but by and large, I do not care how others perceive me. I know that I am superior. A reminder from time to time is nice but not required. Regardless, I often get myself into trouble because I am perpetually unhinged.
A very respected reader asked me the following question over on Tumblr:
How would you describe your experiences with enmity?
My relationship with spite, anger, and a feeling of being wronged is very straightforward. I rarely take things personally. (I suppose because my actions themselves tend to be impersonal?) However, when I do feel wronged and the perception reaches a point where I do take it personally, things tend to escalate quickly, though the magnitude of my “revenge” is usually within the realms of reason. For instance, I can differentiate between the impersonal slight (such as an acquaintance forgetting to bring me an item that I require at a time we agreed upon) with the very personal offense (a former friend neglecting to invite me to his wedding solely because I am transgender). Sometimes the distinction becomes fuzzy (as with the missiles launched by both sides when I turned in my resignation with a former employer) and it becomes harder to articulate the line between “playing along” and full-scale retribution.