PARASITE

New entry that I scribbled when I was waiting at the psychiatrist to pay the bill and run away. I had little time, so don't expect it to be perfect, for I finished it on the bus on my way home.
I hope that after you have read it, you will give me your honest opinion and thoughts about it. I am talking about an entire nation of people that is depressed and that wants to be helped, but can't ask for help, because they simply don't have the strength to do so. So if someone you know [or you suspect] has a certain disorder or illness [even if it is addiction to alcohol or drugs, or anything else of that matter] and is being a bitch, just be there for them. Because you never know when you might need those people yourself. Behind every bitch is a broken heart and a parasite that's eating it.


If someone has a disorder, they live with it 24/7. At a certain point, most often just before it gets better, the person has truly become the disorder, the problem, and he or she most of the time acknowledges this.
As they start to learn how to cope with the various side effects of their disorder(s), they learn how to cope with themselves. They learn how to outgrow the disorder, the illness, they have, but because they are able to identify themselves with their sickness better and better, it gets harder and harder to outgrow something that is so very much of their own.
Learning how to outgrow the parasite of your sickness, is often equal to learning how to outgrow a part of the self: outgrowing the characteristics which marked your personality. So where in fact to most people it seems as if the people in 'recovery' are trying to overcome their disorder, where it seems they are trying to let go of it,- they are actually overcoming and letting go of themselves.
Hard as it is to let oneself go, slip away, the person in the process has to stay focused. They are often just as repulsed by themselves as you are by them; to tell you the truth: they are even more repulsed.
So how does one let go? Simply enough as they do everything regular, from breathing and blinking to eating and drinking.

They remind themselves of how repulsed they are by themselves and how repulsed others are by them. They keep mentioning it; out loud, in loud, it doesn't matter. However... There is a contradictory force at work here. Because even though these people hate themselves, they mostly hate how they are not in control over their disease. No matter what you think or what others may think; nobody is in perfect control of their own disorder, that's what makes it a disorder. The contradiction lies in the fact that these people don't know anything before or after their illness; they hate it, but it's everything they have that they know is real. So whilst knowing the parasite is killing them from the inside out, it has grown on them and they are scared-so scared - of loosing it, that it becomes almost impossible.
By mentioning the parasite, calling it by its name, regardless of the tone in which they do so, they are slowly killing it. They are attacking it, whilst honouring it for the last time: they attack it how it has attacked them, and by being major bitches about their own sicknesses to others and themselves, they show the parasite in themselves at the same time as they mark their death beds.

They are scared of letting them go, of letting themselves go, but only by first becoming one with their own parasites, their own illnesses, they can spit them out. Only by remembering themselves how repulsive their disorder is, will they be able to overcome it.

The night is always darkest before dawn.