The Bender

Speaking on addiction, Ram Dass says that we only make it worse by bashing and punishing ourselves with shame after the act is over and that this only begets a cycle of negativity that ends with more bad behaviour. Well it’s the day after and I am trying not to punish myself anymore. Of course in the back of my mind all I can think is that I’ve been a very bad girl, which is all the more irritating because I am not a girl anymore. Sure, I am no longer running my life into the ground with daily ritualistic substance abuse, but I am still on shaky ground. Having shaky moments and shaky days. Nothing is solid, it’s all a fluid mess of my intentions and my desires. Still, I plan to push forward by refortifying my intentions and for the umpteenth time, attempting to stick to them. The more I observe others, the more I realize this is the human condition.

We all do things that are not good for us for temporal satisfaction. But is that really so bad when nothing is permanent, even life itself? While this reeks of a hippie theory laden excuse, there is some truth here. We as humans are unsure of every moment and are often unsure of our own motivations and even feelings. If something is clearly not good for you why continue doing it? If the result is bad does that not trump the experience? The answer is no, because we live our lives in the journey not the conclusion of our actions. Furthermore, we are animals and are not as intelligent and evolved as we would like to think. Defending chronic addiction isn’t the purpose of this exposition. That is a life ruiner, which I know from past experience. But it is a past experience that I am ever drifting to and from at this point. Although not a ritual addict, I tend to gravitate back to the short-term mind altering experiences of my past with an expectation of enjoyment. And I do enjoy myself, I let go and feel free and then become again trapped in the afterthought –The guilt and discomfort of having done something I previously labelled as wrong. I find myself totally unable to live by the rules of my own theories (this being why they are theories and not truths). Ram Dass would sigh.

I take great comfort in being with like kind. There are thousands of us and we can use each other to justify our potentially stupid behaviours. It eases my guilt to find older people grappling with the same woes as myself (makes me feel less stupid). But then I wonder, is there ever a point of acceptance? I would joy to find a place in which I do not hate myself the next day. That is the beauty of being part of a community of recreationally fun people that alternate between states of pleasure and self loathing. Anything worthwhile is better done together. The community can be co-workers or friends even family, anyone that will share in the bubble of negative self absorption created by a bender.

As I sit here at work, at my desk, I realize that I am actually proud of myself in a twisted way. I am in my own esteem for simply sitting at my desk today and not being crashed out on the floor. I am internally patting myself on the back and using this bolstering to remind myself that I am not a complete loser but a person who remains productive under fire. Real productivity would be accepting my behaviour, as I should be able to look at the last 10 years, note the trend and just work around it. Why must we as humans always want to kick against the pricks and change what is? While I don’t think we should accept our behaviours that are fatalistically destructive, there has to be an understanding of who we are within them. But we don’t operate that way, instead we idealize the image of what the perfect human should be, and go along with that. That human is invariably never bored, never fat and certainly, never drunk. With all the things we are held accountable to and for in our lives it would make sense to ease up when it came to our own inner diatribe. Instead, that is where the bashing is the worst. In dealing with ourselves, it is the instance in which we are most cruel and intolerant.

This goes far beyond the scope of the semi perpetual happy hour. It reaches into every idealization we make as humans. Even when we reach our goals and realize that what was coveted still hasn’t turned us into stars, we continue to set up these schemes of reaching for a sense of perfection in our own minds. In relation to beauty, women are experts at thinking this way. Women will look at others, and think that they look great, but are always able to find fault with themselves. Female self image is a scary thing when you examine it, having been pushed and prodded in every direction and finally reduced to a shade of what it should be. The picture of the perfect woman is unattainable, and usually contorted and airbrushed. Most women know very well that the pictures in magazines are little more than illustrations, so photo-shopped they barely speak to the human they are modeled after. This however, doesn’t stop most women for unwittingly and without wanting to, burying these images deep in the subconscious. It is the same for us all, we have ideas of what perfection is supposed to be and it’s based on standards we didn’t decide upon and barely believe in. This of course does not stop the average person from attempting to follow these standards.

Yes, I am trying to develop this theory right now as a way of alleviating my own guilt. This is what I do, I find ways to alleviate. Real strength is supposed to be facing up to your demons and fears and tackling them head on. The fact that so few of us do that makes me question that idealization as well. There is nothing wrong with aspiring to something better, something outside of the humanity that we know. But would it be so bad to tinge it with some realism as well?

Still, I must admit there is a place for the conscience. Without it, we would be little more than hedonistic wastes, fucking, killing and eating randomly. Humanity requires a semblance of structure in order to survive. Doing only what feels good with no admittance for consequence is likely a dangerous path. Still, there is no forgoing for the need of a bit of ease. It would be intelligent to exculpate ourselves from guilt and forge a balance between conscience and acknowledgement of who and what we are.