Everything in this article is literally me. I've had most of these same thoughts, the evil ones and the tearful disbelief when Jesus tells me He died for that sin, too. And that one. And that one, as well. "Such knowledge, Lord, is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain!"
Wow. I was just going through the same "awakening" this week, and you expressed it perfectly (please keep writing)! I have felt that the more I try to be good, the more I despise myself and my sin. And it is indeed a good reminder that we are completely dependent on God's works for us.
And your whole text reminds me of Jesus' words "apart from me you can do nothing" and Isaiah chapter 64 (a good read for all of us, sinful worms).
I must constantly pray for a soft heart, I go through ups and downs of bitterness and love. I must overcome the brain knowledge of say, crime statistics, to use my heart instead and feel goodwill towards those being public nuisances on the train. Its difficult though, when people act like their moral depravity is actually virtuous and that my belief in higher ethical ideals is backwards. This Isaiah 5:20 world we live in makes me angry. But no good fruit comes from my anger, and I want all souls to be saved, like the Father does. Its a daily battle to see others through the eyes that Jesus does, to see them with pity and have charity towards them, even if they spit on my values or bite the hand that feeds them. Romans 5:6-11, and Matthew 5:44-45
This definitely struck a nerve. I almost feel like I am in a place where I still have the effeminate (and plain normal bad) aspects. But I also find myself walking around like HP Lovecraft. I'm the "strong opinions guy". But I'm unfit, lack some basic skills I should've picked up long ago, and am still on ADHD meds (lower dosage than before, weening off veeeeeerrrryyyyy slow).
Often, I'll see kids on their tablet, parents unfocused, and I am filled with a farce-homicidal rage. The thought goes through my head, "This kid would be better off in an orphanage!" Once I saw a (3-4 years old) boy drop their tablet and immediately he started whine-crying. Not only does he lack parenting, he lacks his own agency. What a vile thing. What a vile thing to think about. It'll leer over my mind, lingering like a stuffy nose, seemingly getting worse every time you try to blow the snot out. And it keeps me from breathing fresh air. But, Christ died for this child, Christ died for his parents.
And I look at my own Mother. My own Mother! And I see adipose-fueled decay. It makes me sad, but mostly angry, like the children. Will she live to see her grandchildren grow up? I couldn't bear to say anything like this to her face, but I say it here? What a fool I am.
But Christ died for me.
I think I've realized that calling myself "retarded" or "the dumbest person on the planet" is an act of selfishness, not selflessness. It's still all looking inward, ignoring the true problem. it is not an act in humility, but of pride. This isn't the Pauline claim to the throne of sinners, but a hidden self apprasial. I call myself a moron, knowing I'm above average in IQ, and pat myself on the back. So no more. It would be less prideful to call myself a genius. I think this an outgrowth of (effeminate!) self-conciousness. I have a constant fear of being the guy you feel obliged to bring along but you don't actually like. Are my friends friends, or are they just trying to keep the illusion going? I really know that they are, there's countless acts of them proving this. But in my selfishness, I get conspiratorial. My mom does this too occasionally. She's allowed to though, she's a woman. I'm just acting like a faggot. Recently I made a big deal out of a stain on my shirt. What am I, gay? No, I was off my medication. I have an odd relationship with that thing. I know it's a crutch, but when I'm off it (today), I'm creative, but unfocused, impulsive, and Foolish. And I do things that upset myself.
Why do all my sentences seem to start with "I"? Just look at the first post on my substack (awfully written), and you'll see. I don't how to end this overcooked popcorn bag reflection, so it will conclude with this sentence.
Yeah, this one made me think, and then my own thoughts made me think. But this was also kind of the mood for the day.
I found this extremely relatable, excepting that my mother is perfect in every way (hi Mom!) and I think it is an act of humility to call yourself a retard. I’m a retard; I’m usually aware I’m making a bad choice before I make it, so I guess I’m smart, but I still make the bad choice, which makes me retarded. Geniuses don’t make posts like the OP and this comment.
Otherwise this basically perfectly described the uglier parts of my life, both in the past and now, and I’m curious and afraid as to how you were able to spy on me all these years to paint such a freakishly accurate picture. The “basic skills” piece hit especially hard.
Truly humble people don’t make everything about themselves. In the words of CS Lewis, it’s not about thinking less of yourself (as retards like ourselves are wont to do, so narcissistically), but thinking of yourself less. I find this virtually impossible, but perhaps over the next 60 years God will make it a bit easier.
I guess what I meant was, when I call myself a retard, what happens is me thinking less of myself, not thinking of myself less. In fact, it makes me think of myself even more. I end up thinking about the ways in which I am a fool plenty, but rarely of the ways others are great. 'Others' includes my mother. How wise I am, acknowledging my faults. Let me pat myself on the back. What should be an act of humility ends up a hidden display of pride. It's become a crutch, that doesn't serve it's purpose. I'm rarely truly understanding my foolishness, but instead I hide under an admission of idiocy to prevent actual reflection upon my failures. Actual reflection is often stopped by this faux-humility cropping up in the middle of it.
Narcissism can be expressed with "woe is me, how awful I am, let me roll in my own filth", like Boogie2988 does. This is different from true humility. Humility doesn't take pride in the filth that you are acknowledging. Humility is not like the aloof high schooler bragging about low grades and lack of sleep. It's not like the Undergound Man, finding enjoyment in his own toothache through moaning in pain loud enough to annoy others into pity. These are acts of pride, of a perceived self importance, as the worst guy in the universe, you hold a special place, and you cherish it. Wrapped up in this is a contradictory perception that you are somehow fundamentally great, somehow better then everyone, but weighed down by your own awful self. And so I waste my time wantonly.
Maybe it's this way:
(This part is more speculation.) Often, Pride comes before the falling into this faux-humility. I do something stupid out of not-thinking-of-others, and the move into moping, which dissipates, instead of being dispelled, which would break the cycle, and then I allow my pride to rebuild, and a key part of that pride is "look at how humble I am". Repeatedly, the cycle goes. I think writing that comment had helped to properly dispell it.
Everything in this article is literally me. I've had most of these same thoughts, the evil ones and the tearful disbelief when Jesus tells me He died for that sin, too. And that one. And that one, as well. "Such knowledge, Lord, is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain!"
Wow. I was just going through the same "awakening" this week, and you expressed it perfectly (please keep writing)! I have felt that the more I try to be good, the more I despise myself and my sin. And it is indeed a good reminder that we are completely dependent on God's works for us.
And your whole text reminds me of Jesus' words "apart from me you can do nothing" and Isaiah chapter 64 (a good read for all of us, sinful worms).
Double like
You’re so sweet
I must constantly pray for a soft heart, I go through ups and downs of bitterness and love. I must overcome the brain knowledge of say, crime statistics, to use my heart instead and feel goodwill towards those being public nuisances on the train. Its difficult though, when people act like their moral depravity is actually virtuous and that my belief in higher ethical ideals is backwards. This Isaiah 5:20 world we live in makes me angry. But no good fruit comes from my anger, and I want all souls to be saved, like the Father does. Its a daily battle to see others through the eyes that Jesus does, to see them with pity and have charity towards them, even if they spit on my values or bite the hand that feeds them. Romans 5:6-11, and Matthew 5:44-45
"Broh he's-u ritteray me"
This definitely struck a nerve. I almost feel like I am in a place where I still have the effeminate (and plain normal bad) aspects. But I also find myself walking around like HP Lovecraft. I'm the "strong opinions guy". But I'm unfit, lack some basic skills I should've picked up long ago, and am still on ADHD meds (lower dosage than before, weening off veeeeeerrrryyyyy slow).
Often, I'll see kids on their tablet, parents unfocused, and I am filled with a farce-homicidal rage. The thought goes through my head, "This kid would be better off in an orphanage!" Once I saw a (3-4 years old) boy drop their tablet and immediately he started whine-crying. Not only does he lack parenting, he lacks his own agency. What a vile thing. What a vile thing to think about. It'll leer over my mind, lingering like a stuffy nose, seemingly getting worse every time you try to blow the snot out. And it keeps me from breathing fresh air. But, Christ died for this child, Christ died for his parents.
And I look at my own Mother. My own Mother! And I see adipose-fueled decay. It makes me sad, but mostly angry, like the children. Will she live to see her grandchildren grow up? I couldn't bear to say anything like this to her face, but I say it here? What a fool I am.
But Christ died for me.
I think I've realized that calling myself "retarded" or "the dumbest person on the planet" is an act of selfishness, not selflessness. It's still all looking inward, ignoring the true problem. it is not an act in humility, but of pride. This isn't the Pauline claim to the throne of sinners, but a hidden self apprasial. I call myself a moron, knowing I'm above average in IQ, and pat myself on the back. So no more. It would be less prideful to call myself a genius. I think this an outgrowth of (effeminate!) self-conciousness. I have a constant fear of being the guy you feel obliged to bring along but you don't actually like. Are my friends friends, or are they just trying to keep the illusion going? I really know that they are, there's countless acts of them proving this. But in my selfishness, I get conspiratorial. My mom does this too occasionally. She's allowed to though, she's a woman. I'm just acting like a faggot. Recently I made a big deal out of a stain on my shirt. What am I, gay? No, I was off my medication. I have an odd relationship with that thing. I know it's a crutch, but when I'm off it (today), I'm creative, but unfocused, impulsive, and Foolish. And I do things that upset myself.
Why do all my sentences seem to start with "I"? Just look at the first post on my substack (awfully written), and you'll see. I don't how to end this overcooked popcorn bag reflection, so it will conclude with this sentence.
Yeah, this one made me think, and then my own thoughts made me think. But this was also kind of the mood for the day.
I found this extremely relatable, excepting that my mother is perfect in every way (hi Mom!) and I think it is an act of humility to call yourself a retard. I’m a retard; I’m usually aware I’m making a bad choice before I make it, so I guess I’m smart, but I still make the bad choice, which makes me retarded. Geniuses don’t make posts like the OP and this comment.
Otherwise this basically perfectly described the uglier parts of my life, both in the past and now, and I’m curious and afraid as to how you were able to spy on me all these years to paint such a freakishly accurate picture. The “basic skills” piece hit especially hard.
Truly humble people don’t make everything about themselves. In the words of CS Lewis, it’s not about thinking less of yourself (as retards like ourselves are wont to do, so narcissistically), but thinking of yourself less. I find this virtually impossible, but perhaps over the next 60 years God will make it a bit easier.
I guess what I meant was, when I call myself a retard, what happens is me thinking less of myself, not thinking of myself less. In fact, it makes me think of myself even more. I end up thinking about the ways in which I am a fool plenty, but rarely of the ways others are great. 'Others' includes my mother. How wise I am, acknowledging my faults. Let me pat myself on the back. What should be an act of humility ends up a hidden display of pride. It's become a crutch, that doesn't serve it's purpose. I'm rarely truly understanding my foolishness, but instead I hide under an admission of idiocy to prevent actual reflection upon my failures. Actual reflection is often stopped by this faux-humility cropping up in the middle of it.
Narcissism can be expressed with "woe is me, how awful I am, let me roll in my own filth", like Boogie2988 does. This is different from true humility. Humility doesn't take pride in the filth that you are acknowledging. Humility is not like the aloof high schooler bragging about low grades and lack of sleep. It's not like the Undergound Man, finding enjoyment in his own toothache through moaning in pain loud enough to annoy others into pity. These are acts of pride, of a perceived self importance, as the worst guy in the universe, you hold a special place, and you cherish it. Wrapped up in this is a contradictory perception that you are somehow fundamentally great, somehow better then everyone, but weighed down by your own awful self. And so I waste my time wantonly.
Maybe it's this way:
(This part is more speculation.) Often, Pride comes before the falling into this faux-humility. I do something stupid out of not-thinking-of-others, and the move into moping, which dissipates, instead of being dispelled, which would break the cycle, and then I allow my pride to rebuild, and a key part of that pride is "look at how humble I am". Repeatedly, the cycle goes. I think writing that comment had helped to properly dispell it.