Moral Calculus

It is funny that people respond more to the rehashed photos and sayings that I include rather than what I am actually saying. This happens here as well as in reality. What is really funny about the whole thing is my soul is being flayed alive in a parody of hell on earth. Don’t worry I don’t feel it anymore.

Not even the fact that I went from being relatively OK and dealing with it to a full blown psycho in the space of weeks seems to bother anyone. Maybe that’s because I hide well in every realm but here and the world that used to live inside my head. The true difference between a psychopath and a sociopath is that one doesn’t feel the difference between right and wrong and the other knows the difference and just doesn’t care. Which do you think I am becoming?

How long can a person not feel before they become amoral. Pain teaches us what to avoid or in my case what feels the best. It is how I cope with all of the other stuff sometimes through sex or on the edge of a knife. Without pain we don’t avoid the things we normally would. Yes, I am more than a little bit insane but I am good at seeing things for what they really are. I am above all else honest with myself and others to a fault. It gets me into trouble more often than not.

It is not that I don’t know it hurts others it is I just don’t care. I know that on some level I should and I once did but that was in the endless stretch of time that I fondly classify as before. What is really ironic is the same thing that makes me so ruthless as makes me more capable. Faster, harder, more calculating than I ever was even at my best. Most noticeable is that my aim is better and in speaking, writing, hunting, and fighting I am much sharper and everything is clearer now that I am not fettered by emotion or empathy. I sleep less, eat less, drink less, and am generally vibrating with adrenaline all the time. I can make practical logical choices despite the consequences to other people.

I am finding that there are a lot of things that are unneeded and most people do things that are just contrary all the time. Sometimes what I say is mistaken for malice but for the most part it is because I just don’t understand why it bothers them. I should and I am sure I used to but its just not there anymore. Is this better? If you look at it in terms of efficiency it seems so or would if it were not so very wrong. I could very easily become the killer that I always knew was inside me and is probably buried deep inside us all. I introduced myself to that particular darkness a long time ago. So here is the equation which is greater the need to kill or the fact that I used to think it was wrong even if I knew they deserved to die. Its simple math or it should be. Shouldn’t it?

I am watching, standing back as little bits of my soul are flayed and have long since given up praying for it to stop. I can hear the bits that once made me who I am shrieking in pain as they are torn, shredded and tortured until there is nothing left and I have to admit its beautiful, much like pain is, or the razors edge is.

I know the damage I do to myself is viewed as wrong but I don’t care
I know that I am just wrong and have gone so far from OK that even I can see it but I can’t seem to bring myself to care
I know that what I am thinking probably enough to get me locked up or worse but it doesn’t bother me anymore
It probably should
I know that I am searching for something but I don’t know what or what will happen when I find it
I know I crossed a line somewhere and I did it on purpose and I don’t care that I did
I know after they tried to help I became different, something new and they didn’t care

They played in my head once too often, their own private sandbox, prodding because I am an unusual case, tearing things up with their clumsy fumbling. They thought they were helping, making me face something without realizing that I already had. Never thinking that it would turn me into something dark, desperate, and hungry. It isn’t facing something that’s the issue I already knew what was down there. They just let it out. I would say god help me but god help them is more appropriate.

psychopathy

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About Killingdanse

I am the girl that was pretty but too smart. I am the girl that you sat and discussed horror movies, sci-fi novels, and molecular genetics with but were scared of because sometimes you saw the darkness peak out from inside me.
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5 Responses to Moral Calculus

  1. dorasnow says:

    I want to comment but every time I try it turns into a really long rant.

    You put it really well:
    “They played in my head once too often, their own private sandbox, prodding because I am an unusual case, tearing things up with their clumsy fumbling. ”

    Yes, clumsy. The proverbial bull in a very fragile and precarious china shop.
    Let all the demons out then run away back to their safe and tidy office.

    I think they significantly overestimate their own professional abilities (or the general ability for therapy to constructively help some problems). They don’t realise they were out of their depth until it’s too late and the damage is done.
    They didn’t believe what I said until they were too far in and they finally realised I meant it but there’s no way to extricate from the situation.

    The next new therapist or MH professional will repeat they damage because each thinks they are somehow better than the others who failed. They’ll get it right this time.

    I also agree that being honest causes trouble.
    Re: china shop. They tell me to be honest with them but then when I am they either accusing me of lying or that I must be mistaken, or they back away mumbling something about ‘disturbing’. They don’t really want me to be honest. They want me to say what they expect to hear, but prefix it with ‘Be honest with us’ so that they can believe the lie more easily – this leads to the next bit…

    Being honest with myself has seriously screwed me up, I think. That’s a more recent realisation. Most people lie to themselves, and for good reason. You can’t function in society and will go insane if you don’t. I didn’t realise because the additional layer of lie is that they lie about that, about lying to themselves and say they are honest with themselves when they aren’t. So I tried to be honest with myself because I thought that was what everyone else was doing and it broke me.

    They need me to be lying because they cannot cope with the truth because they are constantly lying to themselves and my being honest conflicts with it and since they cannot tolerate the possibility that my honesty might be true, they have to find a way to make my honesty a lie. Or make my lies honest.
    Or something like that.

    Or maybe I am talking a load of bollocks.

    Not quite the same but I can relate to having something dark inside yourself. I can relate to professionals unleashing things, and thinking that it’s all some sort of revelation that we didn’t know. I know, I knew. Insight has never made a blind bit of difference to my problems. It doesn’t answer the ‘How?’

    I don’t understand how staring into the abyss is supposed to do anything but warp a person? You can only ‘face’ hell or the inner sadist or an apocalypse for so long before it changes you. Not for the better. I see nothing constructive in it. I guess they presume that if we look at it we will find that it isn’t really that scary or dark. What happens when it still is?

    Sometimes they feed the monster and give the keys to the front door. I don’t know what they expect to happen. That when it comes out it wont really be a monster but will be something fluffy and friendly that has been misunderstood? That they can pat it on the arm and coo some reassuring platitudes and that will calm everything down?
    It’s like coaxing a lion out of it’s den and hoping they’ll be able to handle it with a small catnip toy.

    Sorry. I’ve no happy bows to tie things up with. I’m in a cynical and pessimistic mood today. Also sorry if I have gone off on a tangent too much and rambled.

    • Killingdanse says:

      Its quite alright, bows only make good nooses anyway. In a way I wish it was therapy that brought the dark into the light but it was something more insidious and something the part of me that plays nice with people was awake for. I had no choice in what they did. They killed the part of me that kept everyone else safe. I was friends with what was inside, accepted it and it accepted me, let me use it when I needed it and then slithered back into its home deep inside my mind.

      I learned a long time ago not to be honest with them. Honestly is not what they want. I don’t think they even know what true honesty is. When I still thought therapy might work I found myself being more of a therapist to them – several even commented that talking to me actually helped. Yeah, that was fun. I found it was relatively easy to turn the conversation to what their issues were and I wanted to help. One instance comes to mind where I helped a young therapist come to terms with his mother’s betrayal.

      When I am honest about what I am and what I can do they tend to want to lock me up and run away. I have had therapists leave and send someone else in when I was honest about what I could do, what I saw in them, and exactly what they might be capable of. I have always been gifted with the uncanny knack for seeing who a person really is and what they are hiding. In the state that I am in now I can do a lot of damage very quickly with that. Putting someone in physical pain is nothing compared to what I can do to someone emotionally. I was once asked if I was homicidal and the honest answer was no death is not nearly as pretty as suffering. I think he realized in that moment exactly what he and the others did to me. He stammered and practically ran out of the room. It was much like when I was younger and I would see the second a psychologist or psychiatrist would realize that I was smarter than them. It was very similar to when I used to find it fun to play with them apparently I still find it fun.

      Your view on being honest with yourself are different from mine. I am better at dealing with what is inside because I am honest with myself (even though it is quite painful at times). Being honest with myself is what allowed me to build the walls that protected everyone else from me in the first place. After all I know what I am capable of others can only speculate.

      You are very right about staring into the abyss changing someone. After all we have hundreds of examples of it from our soldiers. If most people saw what really is out there it would warp them so a small amount of self delusion is good for those that are not strong enough to deal with what is really there.

      I really don’t know what they think when they decide to take a sledgehammer to a person’s carefully constructed walls. I have a post written along those lines and look forward to your comments when I do.

      As always thank you for reading and commenting. I don’t mind long rants or short ones for that matter. I appreciate your view on things.

  2. I am still here. It can be easier to like the recycled pictures but the self examination has greater value.

  3. My ‘step daughter-in-law’ too is going through the destruction of her ‘old self’ and finding the courage and strength to create herself anew… if not for herself, but her kids… No therapy, no other person can heal or even save another… we can only be there to listen, to encourage you to breathe, simply breathing in the loving life force that you truly are, bringing light into the darkness away… and it is no more… But do we choose to live…

    The world we have been brought up in, has made us all believe that we are mere pawns in a game.. It is so so not true… People who don’t know there own worth need to use other people and we have gone on and on and on with this game… It is time to stop allowing this game to continue, take responsibility for creating their own life and destiny…. and be our magnificent self…. Barbara

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