|Read into it what you will|
My therapist struck a nerve today.
I wasn’t upset with her, really. She was trying to help. But she hit one of my buttons.
She asked “how much of your problem is that you are a victim of society and how much. . .”
I cut her off there.
I may have a number of problems but using the crutch of victimatology (or whatever it’s called) is something I can’t take.
We were talking about how hard it can be for people like me to navigate a society that is still awash in stigmas and hostile to guys who talk about their feelings. Our society rewards extroverts – that’s nothing new. Through personal experience, I know the stigma associated with talking about one’s ‘issues,’ especially if you’re a guy.
My point is this: it’s pointless to blame society for reactions to one’s mental illness. Society is functioning the way it always has – to protect it’s hierarchy. Sure, things are changing – slowly and not without resistance.
Yeah, a lot about American society sucks balls. I’ve been pretty clear about that.
But the first time you claim to be a victim, and this is just my personal issue, you give up a lot of agency over your life. I’m fully aware that some people HAVE been victimized to a degree that they can never recover. I do get that and I don’t make judgments. This is just my belief as I apply it to myself.
I can be victimized by individuals – and have. But again, even there, forever dwelling in victimhood – to me — leads to a depression hole one can never crawl out of.
I fight society (and it always wins) because that’s what people like me and every person who waves their freak flag high does.
Have there been times when I felt like giving up? You bet. Some very dark periods where suicidal ideation became a constant partner. I don’t judge the suicidal because I’ve stood near enough to the desperation to understand that everyone has a tolerance for pain and at some point, the pain has to end.
So what am I trying to say?
I just hate the word ‘victim’ as it relates to me. It makes me cringe.
MOST of my antisocial behavior that sprung from the mishandling of my condition by myself and mental health professionals manifested itself in me giving said society my middle finger.
Maybe it’s the new meds, maybe life is sorting out, one never knows about these periods of renewal. But I will not let our cultural battery acid corrode my soul.
I will not be a victim.