Demons love expectations
You have to fight. You have to fight the illness. What does that even mean to fight? Take the medicine on time? Well, if that‘s the physical illness perhaps that’s what you can do – follow all the doctors‘ bits of advice, take the pills, eat healthily, do sports, stop smoking, stop drinking alcohol, have enough fresh air, have a positive mindset, avoid stress…
What if that‘s a mental problem? How do you fight something that is in your head? Stay strong, they say. Don‘t give up, they say. If you need anything, let me know. Call me any time. If you have dark thoughts don‘t let them absorb you, reach out for help.
But what does that even mean? When you are in bed, in your fortress, where is the only safe place, its an unhappy place, but its safe, it protects you from the world where all the terrible things happen and then you know that nothing will happen to you, you know that you will not need to deal with an overwhelming anxiety, a fair that something might just go wrong. Is that the time to seek out for help? Sometimes it reaches you even there in your dark fortress. Your gloomy room, with the blinds down for God knows how long (have I ever lifted them up?), with clothes on the floor, empty glasses (and even some bottles) there too, next to the bed, with cozy, warm blankets, because that’s all you need, napkins and tissues are also covering the floor as if there was an attempt to form a rug out of them. And it’s disgusting, but you don‘t care. It doesn‘t matter. Because nothing does. You look to the wall and its because you don‘t want to sleep more, but you are up, well not really up but awake, eyes widely opened and eyes are supposed to capture the environment, send signals to your brains and then your brains give you instructions about what you do. But no, the eyes see the wall and nothing comes up, there is a long to do list, but you can’t move. There are messages on your phone from friends, parents, checking on you and that question, that annoying question that you are not actually allowed to answer anything else but „I‘m fine“ and then lie lie lie because that‘s what is expected from you. No, that‘s not true, I am not fine. But I don’t know how to answer that question that another one would understand. And deep inside you know that you can tell them the truth, well, at least to some of them. But do you really want that? What if that‘s not gonna be understood correctly? Or even worse, saying „oh, you just need to find something to do. Go for a walk, meet people. They don‘t get it. It‘s not that you don‘t know about it! Or another one „oh, you should be more positive“. And you should be less of an idiot, clearly, that‘s not working well for you.
When you are there, in that dark fortress and the only thing that can make you leave the bed is a need to go to a toilette or get more water. Or get up when it‘s appropriate to drink and have a drink. Drinks. A bottle. Some bottles. Till you can fall asleep again. Watch something that wouldn‘t make you think. Something that would make that box on your shoulders silenced because what‘s in there these last days… you don‘t want to let them catch you, you avoid the dark thoughts to have an opportunity to corner you. But when you can‘t escape, when you are just staring to one point, they come, they embrace you, those thoughts start being comforting, they feel like silken fabrics engulfing you into a dreamy feeling which is sharp and cold and the silk starts getting around your neck and starts choking you up with the suggested dark ideas. You manage to take it off, to push them away. But they come back, and every time stronger and stronger, every time more appealing, more alluring, till the dark thoughts become a part of you, you don‘t know anymore when did they settle so deep in you but they just moved in with all their suitcases and now keep whispering you meaningful things every day. They keep susurrating every day more and more and then you start building up a plan based on those suggestions. First, the thoughts of it are a bit scary and make the dark thoughts, the demons in your head to shut up for a minute, because it scares you but then slowly they get closer to you, start cradling you, start showing the lightness in that darkness and it starts seeming so tempting, starts feeling like that is a good choice, starts being more reassuring, it suggests more advantages than the given reality, it offers a cure, a cure from that heavy pain that cannot be taken care of, the one that you are ashamed off, the one that you can’t talk about, it suggests that its possible that it would be over, all that, very soon, just…
And then you start creating a plan. You start getting some energy – for what? For making the plan easy and clear in your head. Where, how. Of course every time you figure something you find another obstacle and most of them are related with the people, those people that keep sending you messages, keep seeing you, keep asking you out. And once you stupidly mention to one of them, you give a hint to one of them and the reaction is harsh you get angry cause that’s no one‘s fucking business, they shouldn‘t care, that’s my decision, that’s what I want, they can’t just come and tell me what to do.
The demons are angry.
But then one push from somebody you care towards the right direction can shake you up. If it‘s done correctly you might wake up from this nightmare with smiling demons, cradling you in silken dark thoughts, singing lullabies about the eternal darkness that is light and lets you escape from the misery here… And then you shake your head, raise it up, look around and say „wait… what?“
Before that, your doctor tells you that you need to be hospitalised because this is not normal. How can that not be normal you question? To consider suicide as an option or even think about suicide is not normal? Where did I go wrong with my thoughts and when was the moment that I actually should have reached for help because that is a symptom of an illness? The problem is, in a modern world and societies apparently it’s common to have those thoughts.
Well, what might be common not necessarily means that it‘s something that has to remain as it is, just because that‘s common. We tend to generalise as what’s common being normal. We even at some extent have it as synonyms. Bounded feet tradition in China was also normal from many peoples perspective at that time, however, was it, really? Commonly practised, commonly experienced doesn‘t mean normal. Many of us have suicidal thoughts and just because it happens often to so many people that don’t mean that its normal. There is so many of us, letting the inner demons to keep us swinging, forgetting that there is a life out there. A life out there that once, some time ago we were enjoying. A life out there that might not be perfect because it never is but it could be good enough to try it out since we are still here to stay for some years. Even though we didn’t score on something. There are plenty of options and joys to try.
The problem is the expectations. We put such high standards and goals and aims just because society makes us believe that by a certain age you are supposed to have achieved something. like if there was a certain scoring system and you need to mark as done. it can be anything, but mainly there are two things to score on: income and family.
you feel like you need to score as done on these two. at least by the age of thirty, you are supposed to have done this. by the age of forty are those things to be done with. at least at some age, the expectations stop and you can relax. and wait to die.
the crazy part is that without me saying what those expectations were you actually knew exactly what I meant by what age what you were supposed to ‘achieve’.
What are expectations? and how much do we let them affect our lives?
I say fuck age. Just because there is a common practice which is taken as normal, a.k.a. standard it doesn’t mean that we have to do anything else than what we want to do. There are so many things that do not depend on us, circumstances that occur, life lessons we come across and just because it interfered with scoring on somebodies created system doesn’t mean we shall make ourselves suffer.
Screw expectations. Fuck them. Fewer expectations, more satisfaction, embracement into the moment.
let it go. let it fade away. let them not have any influence on you anymore.