Shallow Emotions

I don’t know about shallow emotions, but I know about fake and borrowed emotions.  I had a friend who practically quoted music magazines when describing  a band he claimed to like as “hauntingly beautiful”.  Knowing him, I knew he was incapable of feeling an emotion like “hauntingly beautiful”.  It was really strange to see him pretending to be a passionate person, someone who was capable of such feelings.  I had to give him credit, that maybe he could feel things but he didn’t show it, but the more I got to know him, the more I realized that he was the type to listen to podcasts and read articles so that he could quote them and pretend they were his own words.  On top of all that, his description of the music was not even fitting, although it could be someone’s interpretation if they never knew what any of those feelings were and was trying to use them like they were a foreign language to them.

I had another friend who was trying to control me and have sex with me.  He had no emotions.  He wrote me a “love letter” with the expectation that I’d let him do what he wanted with me.  He acted like this love letter was really deep.  It was a very cliched hallmark card style love letter.  All borrowed words and cliched.  It’s all he could do to pretend he had real emotions and was really in love with me.  It works in the movies right?  So, all I learned in the end was that he had no idea what it meant to like someone, to have any such feelings.  He had no idea.  You’re so pretty and I think of you all the time and I bought you a gift…now will you be a character in my play?  Now are you convinced of how much I love you so that you’ll be convinced we have a connection or something?  Remember all those things we did together?  Remember all the fun times we had together?  I dreamt about you last night, even.

Emotionless people think they’re superior and have a better life because they have no emotions.  No passion.  Every person you meet is the same as the next, and you value them based off how much use you can get from them.  You tell people how great they are when you think they can be useful to you.  You act like you really like them.  You don’t know what it means to actually like a person or even be impressed with them or find good qualities in them.  To you, the only good qualities in a person are how easily you can get them to do what you want, how little fight they put up, how weak they are.  Weakness is the virtue you like to see in others.  Those are the people you write love letters to.

Weak, lonely, desperate, wanting something or codependent — they love to see these traits in another.  These are the people they “love” and “adore” and will compliment on meeting, tell them they like them, tell them they love them.  But they don’t like anything.  They are infatuated with nothing.  They are passionate about nothing.  Well…they are passionate about their image.  Their image is what makes them feel in control.  They know their image is fake, but that doesn’t matter.  They use rage and fear-mongering tactics to shut up anyone who says anything about their image or pseudo-world.  Because they live in their own little world, cut off from the intelligence of anything else in the world, their fake image is as good as reality if no one speaks.

They love people who don’t speak.  They love people who don’t share their thoughts.  Silence is golden in their world.  It keeps them able to believe that everyone believes in their image.  Why are they losing friends? they’ll wonder.  They have no idea.  They shut up everyone who ever tried to say anything, so as far as they’re concerned, no one’s said anything and therefore everyone loves them and believes all their stories and lies.  I guess there’s just something wrong with all those people who left or didn’t do what I wanted! is their reasoning.  Because, since everyone believes what they say, then people must be running away out of shame or because they’re “criminals” or “bad people” or “stupid” or “crazy”.

They think everyone’s stupid.  They can’t read people very well.  So when they lie to someone’s face and someone acts like they’re going along with it, they think they’ve conned yet another “stupid” person.  And since people are usually too polite to say what they really think, they can see everyone as sheep.  They always feel that they’ve won.  (They always think they’re winning, and if it doesn’t look that way, they’ll use intimidation or force to keep it looking that way!)  Also, because they can’t see what another person is thinking, people appear stupid even when they’re not manipulating them.  When they meet someone who speaks up, they see that person as “smarter than most people”.  Because most people in the world haven’t had their say in their world, then most people are really “stupid” in their purview.

They could never imagine how intelligent we all are.  They could never see the intelligence that’s out there.  What they do know is how to evoke fear, agony, anguish, or complete helplessness in the face of another.  They also know how to bring a smile to another’s face.  These are the two skills they rely on in life.  They don’t care if they make you smile one minute and then, when they’re gone you let out your true agony.  As far as they’re concerned, you’re happy because that’s all they saw.  The truth is that people are likely to hide all their agony from them while they sit their patting themselves on the back on how good a job they’re doing.

 

 

When will it end

I’m afraid.
Living in a world were you don’t know when the person you share a building with is going to turn the place into scary, terrifying, horrific unpleasant place to be.
I want to know when peace comes.
I want to know when I can relax.
Where is that peaceful place where you don’t have to worry about some scary psycho knocking at your door?
Where you can just look at the door and feel peaceful feeling? And not have the automatic thought pop up in your mind of the terrifying sounds of someone appearing on the other end?

Would it help to know why she acts the way she does? That’s just philosophizing. I feel way better when I let the adrenaline run free. I feel at least like I’m alive or something. If I try to see things from her perspective and feel sorry for her and forgive her, I feel like a soulless piece of flesh.

I want this to end. I want to know that peace is somewhere. But I just don’t feel that it’s possible. I feel like it’s asking for too much. This life is supposed to be painful and not worth living.

I never feel a breeze in my mind even if she’s gone. There’s still the thoughts of wanting a relaxing place to live.

It’s funny how I always think of them violently approaching the door, although it’s never happened yet, at least not to the extent that I see it in my mind.

I want to eat and feel relaxed. To ease some of this feeling in my body. I feel better if I sit down and eat a lot. I want to know that I’m secure, that things will be okay. I want to know that I won’t get treated like I’m crazy if I stand up for myself or let people see my real emotions.

When will I know what the right answer is?

I want to go wild and not care.

How can the sight of someone be so unpleasant? Like they’re not even human. Like there’s no warmth or pleasantness mixed with their rage. It’s just rage. Nothing human or soft about them. Nothing about them that brings pleasantness. Like you don’t feel bad and crave their love afterward because they have no love. Just a nasty, cold creature that’s either neutral or unpleasant to be around, but there is no hint of beauty or soul to them.

I want to stop seeing the present. In my mind, in my fantasies, I could see a nice life, but reality sets in. I find it hard to imagine that I could escape reality.

We’re always trying so hard, thinking people can see everything about us, and if they see it, something bad’s going to happen. But really most people aren’t staring you down that intently and they’re not going to hurt you or use it against you. They’ll let you be you and let you do what you do without punishing you. For the most part, they won’t stare at your clothes or your chest or get involved in the intricacies and workings of your sexual organs. Or try to shun what you love and force you to act like you love things you don’t to appear the way they want you to appear.

The thought of running and being free is beautiful. But I tried before and there was no oasis to go to. I was unable to relax. I wish I saw a clear picture of such a thing. How do people make their lives happen?

I feel okay. I should be able to sleep here and nothing should happen. I feel some peace. I hope it could last. I wish it could last.

I wish I didn’t rely on people to be sane, stable, or healthy for me. The world is full of beasts and strange, confusing, unpredictable creatures; and it’s a nonstop war.

I wish there was some magic thing that made it all go away. Like I just needed some magic key. Like the beautiful world was there all along, I just needed to find the key and the gate, and it would all be okay. But until then, this is all I know. But it exists, I just can’t see it or imagine it.

I want to enjoy this life. And what I mean by that is that I want to feel. I want to feel alive. Maybe not all the time, but at least every day. I want to feel alive a significant part of my days.

When I think of being able to get up without questioning my actions, to be able to speak louder or sing, to be able to move around without being wary of another person’s terror.

Can I think my way out of this hell?

Just Saw My Dad’s Ugly Face and I Want to Die

Something told me not to go downstairs.  I really didn’t feel like having to see my parents.  But I felt I should just ignore what I feel and get business done.

So I went downstairs , trying to avoid getting a headache from my mother’s excessive use of chemicals.  Tried to go outside as fast as I could.

My dad was poised and ready to treat me like I was damaged and screwed up.

As creepily as he always does, he stood in silence and made the ugliest face anyone could ever imagine, with the biggest smile he could possibly force.  He raised his eyebrows up as high as humanly possible.  He’s already got a freakish face, so just imagine an already ugly face with cheeks pulled up and out with incredible muscle strain and eyebrows raised awkwardly.  Also imagine he’s staring you straight down with huge round black horrifying eyes, the kind of eyes that you normally aren’t humanly possible.  It would be a cross between these pictures.

stock-photo-background-with-colorful-clown-face-123935959    stock-photo-cartoon-face-of-a-happy-clown-93605167      stock-vector-happy-clown-92034197

No expression in the eyes, just a blank, creepy, big-eyed stare-you-down kind of look.  The kind of look that makes you want to run or defend yourself.  Just imagine that second blue-haired clown face staring you down without saying a word.  Imagine that you know it’s a faked expression, a fake look of shock.  That he’s faking looked shocked and you and won’t give in, won’t move his eyeballs at all, until you give in.

The thing about this face is that it does not show any normal human emotion.  My dad has no normal human emotions.  He fakes them and emulates them.  So, I’d have to try and interpret what emotion he’s pretending to have.  I think the emotion he’s pretending to have is some sort of combination of shock and amusement.  I know he’s trying to say, “Oh my god, you are so shocking, the way you are, the way you act.  Everything is wrong with you!!!!”  And it’s nothing to be shocked about.  Nothing about me is shocking.  I’m acting the same way I have every day of my life.  Okay.  I’m not a robot.  I don’t say the exact same things, move the same exact ways, and do the same exact things every day.  I’m human.  That’s probably the part that’s shocking to him.

Even though he’s not shocked.  He’s only pretending to be shocked.  But for some reason he thinks he has a right to be shocked.  He thinks he get away with painting me as crazy to get me to do his will.

I get sick of playing his fake game with him with his fake emotions.  His game of, “Let’s pretend you’re sick and damaged so I can stare you down and ridicule you!  And tell everyone I know that you’re sick!!!!  So that way I can benefit!  I can do anything to you, and people will support me! And no matter what you do to try to prove what’s real, you’ll never get away with proving reality to anyone!! You have to live in my disturbed and sick reality now!!!”

The truth about narcissists is that they force onto others the attributes that are true of themselves.  Is my dad sick?  Yes.  Is my dad deranged?  Yes.  Is there something wrong, absurd, or shocking about his behavior and personality?  Absolutely.  The man is disgusting, and anyone that lives somewhat in reality can see how strange and disgusting he is, but he’ll claim that he’s perfect, superior, and that everyone likes him.  He even says that people enjoy it when he violates their boundaries.

Unlike my father, I have real emotions.  And when I saw his face, I had so many negative feelings running through me.  I felt shock and horror.  I felt disgust.  I felt fear (how can you not feel fear when looking at those eyes?)  I felt like I just wanted it to be over.  It felt like hell to have him holding me in his gaze like that, forcing it on me.  I wanted it to end.  I wanted the menace out of my sight, out of my mind.  I want to run.  He’s like god, everywhere, you feel his sick, disgusting presence.  You feel a terror you can’t run from.  You can’t stop wondering when he’ll storm in your room, wondering what sick show he has to put on.  You can’t have peace of mind, because you never know when he’ll show up.  You can’t escape.  Can’t go anywhere.

The man wants you to hate him, but he wants you to pretend you love him to the point where you might forget your own feelings, forget how sick you feel on the inside.  To the point where you accept his treatment of you as a sick person so that you believe that you truly are sick.

And it’s funny how I thought something was wrong with me my whole life and that my parents were the normal ones.  Because they told me everything was wrong with me.  Because they told me what to do as if I was always going to do things wrong if I was to just be myself.  So, I thought I had to act like them.  Because, of course, they were right, even though everything they did was unnatural and overly polite.  I started acting fake in public.  Started putting on fake smiles for everyone.  Showed fake emotions and also didn’t show any real emotions.

And I’m tired of having to do that for my parents in public.  I’m so sick of faking and lying my whole life to people.  There’s something that makes me feel sick to feel like I have to act like a creepy, deranged weirdo when I’m in public.  I’d rather not act at all.  No emotions period.  Just fade away.  I’m not here to shine.  I’m not here to smile.  I’m not here to act like a robot.  I’m not here at all, and I like it that way.

My parents are so demented.  Why would they enjoy making me act deranged, just like them?  Why would someone do that?  I’m so sick of having a body, feeling like it’s there and alive, but forced to act like my body is possessed by something inhuman.  This body that is not creepy and deformed like my parents’.  This body that feels alive, healthy, and emotionally stable but is supposed to act like something it isn’t.  I don’t know why that feels wrong.  Why does it feel wrong to have it act like a child?  Why does it feel wrong to have it act like it’s crazy?  I feel like it should be something else.  I feel that it should be dignified, that it should be treated like something dignified, not something for my parents to touch all over with their eyes and with their intentions for it.

My dad’s eyes scare me.  Some people can stare you down so hard that it can only leave you with feelings of terror.  I want an oasis, somewhere I can escape to.  I don’t want this zhombie following me everywhere.  I feel like the nightmare would be over if I could just escape his penetrating eyes.

Please Act for Me, Please Smile for the Guests

I don’t feel good.  Headache, tension in my skull, acid reflux and nausea.  I’m feeling weak and can’t think fast enough to deal with bad people.  I just don’t want to.  What do I have to gain from having fake conversations with them?

My mom says, “Come down and see our guests.  You want to see our guests, don’t you?”  Then she puts in a high-pitched, “Okay?” to make sure I know that it’s an order and a threat.

I go down to see them.  What else am I going to do?  But I don’t feel good.  So I hide behind a counter and sit down, waiting till I feel strong enough to stand up and play the “I’m so happy, everything is butterflies,” game with people.  But, really, what do I have to gain by playing?  I don’t want to face these people’s faces.  They’re sick people that screwed me over, and I know that sitting and conversing with them is all a front for them.

I just really don’t feel like it.  Especially not now when I feel dizzy.  I hate acting and smiling.

I start thinking, How should I act, really?  Should I give them a silent cry for help?  No, because they’re the kind of people who would use that as an excuse to screw me over.  So I have nothing to gain from being around them.

My mom catches me behind the counter and violently grabs my wrist saying, “Say hi to our guest!!”  On impulse, I slap her slithery hand.  It truly is slithery.  My dad starts fake laughing.  He loves fake laughing, especially when there’s company.

I can’t do this.  I don’t know what to do, other than just get out of this uncomfortable situation.  I don’t know what I’m going to say to these people.  I’m in too much of a rage to just sit there quietly like they want me to.  I can’t deal with people who’ll side with my mother even as they watch her abusing me.  I can’t keep up the act of talking calmly to people and acting happy as well as my parents do.  They have no inhibitions when it comes to acting.  For me, acting only incites me.

 

You Need to Eat Food? What’s Wrong With You?

The other day, I told my dad I needed fresh air when I got up in the morning.

“What’s wrong with you?” he said.  He really wants there to be something wrong with me.

I don’t know if it’s by choice or pure lack of sensation in his body, but he doesn’t acknowledge how bad the house smells or how stuffy it is.  Considering he can’t taste much and only seems to smell things when he’s hallucinating, I don’t think he’s doing it intentionally.  He could be living in some closed up room suffocating and suffocate to death without complaining about it.

But me?  There’s something wrong with me.  Of course.  Because it’s always me that there’s something wrong with.

Yea, I want some fresh air.  And, yea, I am more sensitive to air quality than most.  Does that mean there’s something wrong with me?  Does that mean I should be attacked?  I think maybe my dad subconsciously knows there’s something very wrong with him so he’s projecting that sickness onto me.  I’m not the one that’s horribly sick and deteriorating in every form.  Other than my gums.

I don’t know how to get him off my back.

How do you get an annoying, delusional person off your back?  Or do you just mess with them?  Do you take advantage of teh situation in that way?

Aren’t Furious People Scary?

Furious -- full of anger or energy; violent or intense (Oxford Dictionaries)
synonyms: fiery · “lively” · fierce

My narcissistic captor chews her food in a rage.  She chews her gum in a rage.  She goes about the house slamming things and shutting things with vigor so you can hear it all over the house.  You can her her stomping rapidly throughout the house.  So full of life!

She laughs with a forced cackle.  Like she’s coughing up her laughs.  She walks with her legs moving fast in small strides like a small dog.  I’m not sure if she’s able to spread her legs farther than that to make normal strides like a normal person.

When she chews, it’s like a squirrel chewing on nuts but with much bigger jaws.  I wonder if she actually manages to get her food chewed because she I can’t imagine how she’d have time between jaw clenches to open her jaw wide enough to get food in between her teeth.  I think she just chews to deal with some of that excess energy she has and not to actually digest her food.

When she acts happy, it instinctively seems evil.  Even when she says bye, she shoots out a rapid, forced-out, happy, “BYEEEEEEEE!!!!”  What does that mean?   What does that mean?!!!

Just being around her, witnessing this strange explosive energy, is unsettling.  Is it some angry, anxious reaction to something that happened?  That you did?  What is she up to?  What could possibly be going in the mind of someone in that state of mind who’s acting like everything is normal and like they’re really happy?  What does it mean when someone acts super-happy when there’s nothing going on and nothing to be having a  happy reaction to? What is she thinking or scheming?

Or is not triggered by anything but rather the manic phase of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder?  But that wouldn’t make sense because she’s like that most of the time, and when she acts calm, she’s pretending in order to charm someone and to act like she’s nice and gentle.  Grabby, pushy, and out of control is how she really is.