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The Transformation 03: Nightmare

Warning: This post contains adult descriptions and thoughts about self-mutilating behavior.

Update 2018-12-31: Added chapter “Context”, “The Suffering, Recently” and “Prospect”. In short: these chapters are written about two and a half months later and assess the events with more information. Yet, it’s a long period since the actual happenings and the narrative.

Context

In the previous post, Focus, I tried to write down what I can try to achieve. I depicted the evening on the recent gig as terrible, but explained no details.

In the first chapter of this post, “The Suffering”, I continue to tell the details of that evening.

The second chapter is about the nightmare which this post originally builds on.

The Suffering, Recently

Preface: The Philosophical Question

In some of my posts I ponder pros and cons about the idea of fate.

In my previous post I emphasized to secure life energy to use it especially in key situations to alter them for the good. I made an argument for the autonomy of one own’s life.

In a much later post, Separations, I asked myself how likely it was that the things happened as they did. I assumed the chances to be very low, yet the this unlikely setting became real and may have rang the death of the band. It’s an example which I use for the heteronomy I succumb to.

I will come back to both arguments in the assessment of the evening.

Nothing good was on the way

The story began as follows: I picked the singer up with my car and she was in a bad mood. We drove to the rehearsal room to meet the other and stuffed our equipment into our vehicles. We drove with two cars to the venue.

On the way there, she told me she was upset about the gig because in general, she’s not motivated to play in the band anymore. Second, she had to cancel voluntary work she was invited to and which she favored because of an overlap with the gig. While she didn’t blame me for anything, she didn’t want to talk to me much either. I didn’t feel well in this situation.

As I write these lines, this reminds me of an experience about 10 years ago. Then, me and my girlfriend were in a similar situation and my incompetence to deal with rejection lead to our parting.

At the venue most of us were first busy, then bored. I became sleepy and rested myself on the couch in the backstage area, nothing interesting happened in the following few hours. Apart from the fact that the singer told me she feels something that pushes her away from me.

The rejection

Our play itself was rather unusual as both of my guitars had malfunctioned. Nonetheless, as described in the previous post, it was good, thus there’s no more to say.

Afterwards, I spent my time mostly to stray around at the location. I got to know that some of the singer’s friends were there and they planned to go with her to a club in the next minutes. Unfortunately, and the singer knew about this, there have been troubles in the past so there was a chance that I was not able to enter the club. Besides that, I had hoped to spent time with her in a more quiet setting.

After a while I found the singer in a not-so busy room and asked her what she wants to do. She wanted to go out with her friends and insisted on her decision after I told her that it might be problematic for me to join and that I wanted to spend at least some time with her.

Not so much later, I decided to walk to my car to park it near the venue to load our equipment. On my way there I became severly depressed.

The stabbing

When I sat into my car, the sadness became unbearable. I wrote her text messages that I feel ignored by her and couldn’t stop crying for some time.

After about an hour in my car a band member messaged me where I am at the moment. Shortly after I brought it to the venue to load equipment into it. The others, but not the singer, helped me in this process.

When everything was done, I approached her and demanded to talk to her personally while her friends were around. She refused to at first, but eventually agreed to. We talked for about 15 minutes, but departed without any progress.

Afterwards, I drove to the rehersal room. The other members noticed that the singer neither helped to pack the equipment nor accompanied me.

The bleeding

The way to the rehearsal was not less than a living nightmare. Self-destructive thoughts spinned in my head. I asked myself why I just don’t die. Why do I end up in situations like this, again and again? I hated myself and everything around me. I fantasized how I hurt myself once I reached home. But I thought about to call a suicide hotline, too.

When I arrived to unpack the stuff, I noticed something familiar. Again I’m alone to tidy up the mess at the end of a concert. Years ago, I remember it still clearly, a similar situation in which I was the only and last one to collect all materials associated with a concert happened. And it sow doubts about the sense of purpose to play in a band.

After a while I finished my work. I still felt miserable. I went home, but before I entered my apartment I messaged the singer if I should come to the club. If I remember correctly, she didn’t answer me in time, but I don’t know for sure. But I didn’t want to go there because I felt tired and finally went to bed.

Answer To The Philosophical Question

During the events presented above I thought a lot about what should I do and how I can tame myself to deal with the pain. Today, I think that I did my best and while I could have acted even more stronger, I did quite a good job to not mess things more up than they already were.

In other words: I could have acted worse and perhaps my focus helped me to prevent further tragedies.

On the other hand, the result was still catastrophic. I could argue that despite my efforts pain and suffering filled my heart and the wounds are not healed, even today.

Perhaps there are situations that are bigger than me, that I can’t turn into something good. Maybe I lack the competencies to do so, maybe it’s simply impossible.

In some sense, I can only hope to be able to work on myself to prevent something much worse and don’t face critical situations impossible to solve. But the latter requires luck, and this dependency worries me.

The Nightmare, Today

In this night I woke up at about 02:22 am just after the first REM phase of my sleep. I remembered details of the last “minutes” of a sexual and mentally draining dream and spoke into a voice recording app of my phone. The following text is the transcript. It is edited for better readability.

Bystander

It’s 2:20 on Tuesday. I just woke up from a dream where I was in a quiet, dark room, with showers and the ex-boyfriend and the woman I’m in love right now. They invited me to join in when he was doing it to her in this dark room with walls around them, like in a maze.

So they were in these showers, both naked and he penetrated her with his fingers and used the rest of his body to please her. I tried to bring me in, but whatever I did it wasn’t right. Basically I did two things wrong: first, when I touched her softly it felt like it hadn’t any effect, so my attempts did not please her. Second, I touched her where she didn’t want to be touched, and with every passing second the situation became worse.

At the end I felt such a disgust about everything I’ve done. And I felt that she also was disgusted about my role in this situation.

Then I lose track to maybe a few seconds.

Alone

The situation is still coherent to me.

I find myself again alone and naked in this room, they disappeared somehow. They seemed to have walked away, and I began to search for them. Then, all of a sudden the room began to dissolve¬†and it became brighter and I realized that I’m completely alone now.

I felt such an intense desire to search for and find her but I remembered that she was all of a sudden gone and I was the only one in this room. Loneliness and pain, unbearable, and then some sort of a symbol, an epiphany, like in a WhatsApp¬†message, appeared. It looked like an open eye symbol: first, it was closed, but then it opened. There was a message right above it that she’s watching the room now.

I experienced relief. I was left alone, but it seemed like she was searched for something, maybe she searched for me, and I felt better with it.

Interpretation

I see several things in there: the first is that I have such a low self-confidence. I’m not able to give her what she needs. The second is: not only that I felt ashamed, she was not pleased with what I did, too.

The third is that I think I’m insane. I just woke up and I feel completely mentally exhausted and everything hurts from the inside

Fourth, I just want to be with her. Right now I just wish for her to hold my hand while I lay in bed.

The last thing is that I brightened up when I had the feeling that maybe she watched for me at the end. The hope that it might be me she looks for gives me new energy.

Reflection

In addition to the few interpretations I can also say:

  • I overcame my refusal to join them in which underlies my unhealthy attempts to swallow my pride just to appeal to her, yet the discomfort turns the situation into the eventual disaster.
  • She might not have really watched out for me, and I fully realized this. My role in this game is more of an accident rather than an important actor.

Overall, it’s a harsh description of my desperation towards her, and most likely of a low self-esteem, at least with respect to relationships.

Two things can be derived from that: first, for my own psyche, it’s better to drift away from her as soon as possible as I don’t think even for myself that I could fill the role in her life that I’d like to. The second is that, more generally, I shouldn’t do things I’m not confident about. I act in manners against my very own nature to please someone, yet by doing so I reach the exact opposite of what I try to achieve.

Prospect

Both events are part of The Transformation. The following posts show that these were no singularities and led ultimately to the trio of the separations, the subjection and the collapse. As of New Year’s Eve of 2018, the hurt associated with the evening is still present. It fuels my anger and sadness when I read what I’ve written.

I suppose that perhaps a mutual debate with the singer about our behavior on this evening could pacify my feelings. But I estimate the chances to be low and at least for now I don’t see any opportunities to talk to her.

Sources

Featured Image – via pxhere.com

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