Darci, I understand the desire to delete everything you've said. I actually delete everything I write if I can. I can't here, so I'm stuck with it.
I recall telling some friends something, maybe you'll understand this. It's an insight of mine that came with mushrooms. I was in college at the time sitting in a park on campus, in front of a library, and I thought about the person I was throwing away when I had made the decision to use mushrooms like I was. Before this moment, I had been drawn to being a good mathematician. I was ready to study my ass off for it. But, instead of that I started using mushrooms weekly, dropped out of my more difficult courses and became supremely disinterested and a bit crazy. I remember thinking about that person that studied his ass off. I still think about it now. Even now, I think about getting back on that wagon. I find math incredibly interesting when I'm not in school. In any case, what I was confronted with wasn't just that I wouldn't be a "great" mathematician. I was being confronted with the realization that I had fucked myself up. I remember finding that I had HPPD, bad dreams, fear of the dark, etc. I was isolated and had lost most of my friends. I felt terrible. I walked through the city totally disconnected. The couple times when I really tried to talk with someone they walked away and left, probably because I wanted to show them where my mind really was.
Anyway, I remember I thought of that person that was me doing well in Math and I felt all the other choices I could have made. They were strung out before me. I saw myself on one path of these many. And the one I was on was that lonely hurt fellow. I was even writing to some friends in obsessive-compulsive form, lost, lost, lost. I met a homeless man similar to me then some years later. The drive to connect wasn't being made, or my ideas were too far out, or I was too self-obsessed and hurtful to others... I couldn't see or know, nor do I even know now.
But then, eventually, I saw all of those paths strung out as real possibilities, real versions of myself, worthwhile in their expression of being. Then, it occurred to me that there are already great mathematicians in the world, that I didn't need to be one. The paths strung out opened up into all paths of all people. Then, I saw a person dying a terrible death, having lived burdened by addiction or whatever else, dying thinking that their life is worthless. I knew that all those paths were worthwhile in their expression of being. And they appeared as real versions of myself. Then, I looked back at where I was and I saw it as worthwhile in its expression of being.
The point I'm trying to make is really what I told my friends some months ago. I said "Even if I'm shit." That's the acceptance I'm looking for. And I guess, that's what's unconditional love is. I don't care how many times I've hurt myself, felt terrible, or acted stupid and worthless in my eyes. Even though it never feels good to see that in yourself to want it to be otherwise, it's okay to be it. And unconditional love is a thing, our problems become tears of joy.
Edited by Guy1298, 19 October 2018 - 09:35 PM.