“What I needed, what I still need, is genuine, unrestricted honesty: to be told that my problems were no more interesting or compelling than anyone else’s, that the ways in which I am flawed are not uniquely tragic or infectious, that the only unique facet of my unhappiness was how I had chosen to believe in its profundity.”
thank you thank you thank you for telling me exactly what i needed to hear rn
This is so beautifully written I’ve read it twice already.
As someone who grew up in an environment that did not reward outward displays of emotion and relate heavily to intellectualising your feelings instead of just feeling them, I had to see numerous counsellors, and was proud of myself every time they were astounded by my self-awareness. I would spend a good chunk of my days in self-absorbed introspection, and although I now try to devote my energy outwards, I am still guilty of catastrophising every aspect of my life for some non-existent ever-present audience.
This romanticisation of anguish and the superiority complex associated with thinking of oneself as the sole sufferer of humanity is a trap that is so easy to be caught up in, especially when endlessly confronted with depictions of tortured intellectuals who suffer under the weight of knowing unadulterated reality. Overcoming the belief that suffering is somehow sacred and unique to me is something I’ve been working on for a while, and you managed to articulate so well the truth I’ve needed to hear.
Thank you for this touching piece and sending you strength in your quest to find strength and happiness. Sorry for the long comment!
thank you for this. i find it really helpful to be reminded that there is no inherent virtue in being punishingly self-aware or unkind to yourself, and that it’s good to strive for happiness and to treat yourself well.
this makes my heart ache in the best way, and serves as a very healthy reminder that i am also not special/unique in my struggles or rationalizing of them. thank you for sharing 🖤
this is really beautifully written, you’ve put words to something I think has been important to me in recovery too. I’m glad you’re on a better road now 💕
sometimes i feel paralyzed by recognizing the honesty that I need, so i don’t often let people get close enough to see my deficits - i am a performer, so good and hollow, so warm and empty. i smell like a recycling bin with wet refuse coating the sides, but at least i look pretty.
i can see when people see through me, and i get scared. “what do you see? can you tear me down the way i so desperately crave it?” like a girl who’s been stockholm syndrome’d by Dracula. i’m reminded of that one scene from Girl, Interrupted where Whoopi Goldberg’ as character tears into Winona Ryder’s with “You are a lazy, self-indulgent, little girl who’s driving herself crazy,” when i get into a low swing; harsh, yes, but a reminder most of us need to placate our neuroses. getting there.
I really love all of your writing and this piece felt especially relevant to me right now. On a completely different note... I’ve noticed that there are several American writers (I think they (and you) are American) who use the British spelling of certain words. Is this simply an artistic choice or is there a reason behind it?
thank u for this piece ! ive very rarely found language for the intersection of i guess ego/burnt out former 'gifted' kid (ew) with the reflexively performative masochism that has been for me central in my experience w disordered eating - and u have found it so perfectly. the crushing self-awareness of being congratulated by a therapist for /self-awareness/ and my silly brain using that as reinforcement of my personal paradigm of /suffering/ that defies the understanding of people less 'Uniquely Tortured' than myself - that self-importance is so insidious and argh u have captured it ! getting older n trying to recenter myself on not subconsciously elevating the plight of More Intellectually Superior Pain is a reckoning im not yet good at, so im v grateful to have this, a capturing that i will be bookmarking and probably quoting this for a v long time so thank u thank u thank u (and sorry for the long comment ! x)
"Using beautiful and forlorn vocabulary to narrate your own self destruction does not change the fact that you are destroying yourself."
just found you through a few different substacks (i believe it was a recommended from Embedded?) and this really caught my eye. you are an incredible writer. excited to follow you!
GOD u articulate how i make my own introspection into a kind of performance art in such a real way. In a lot of ways, being self-aware has really helped me stop replicating shitty patterns, or helped me help others reflect on their own thoughts. but in other ways it completely stops me from living. Like, I want to just make an impulsive decision, to not have everything be so calculated. To not always be thinking about What It Means before the “it” has even happened.
The bit about being called precocious too many times... I think eventually having multiple psychologists tell u that ur ‘uniquely self-aware’ is its own kind of meta mind fuck.
And ur so right. At a certain point, u gotta trade some of the artistry of the act of introspecting, the valor self-analyzing and self-flagellating, for actually living.
This essay is going to stick with me for a long long time
“What I needed, what I still need, is genuine, unrestricted honesty: to be told that my problems were no more interesting or compelling than anyone else’s, that the ways in which I am flawed are not uniquely tragic or infectious, that the only unique facet of my unhappiness was how I had chosen to believe in its profundity.”
thank you thank you thank you for telling me exactly what i needed to hear rn
This is so beautifully written I’ve read it twice already.
As someone who grew up in an environment that did not reward outward displays of emotion and relate heavily to intellectualising your feelings instead of just feeling them, I had to see numerous counsellors, and was proud of myself every time they were astounded by my self-awareness. I would spend a good chunk of my days in self-absorbed introspection, and although I now try to devote my energy outwards, I am still guilty of catastrophising every aspect of my life for some non-existent ever-present audience.
This romanticisation of anguish and the superiority complex associated with thinking of oneself as the sole sufferer of humanity is a trap that is so easy to be caught up in, especially when endlessly confronted with depictions of tortured intellectuals who suffer under the weight of knowing unadulterated reality. Overcoming the belief that suffering is somehow sacred and unique to me is something I’ve been working on for a while, and you managed to articulate so well the truth I’ve needed to hear.
Thank you for this touching piece and sending you strength in your quest to find strength and happiness. Sorry for the long comment!
this made me cry i’m so tired of being cynically detached and throwing up to feel superior i just want to be happy and i want to love myself
thank you for this. i find it really helpful to be reminded that there is no inherent virtue in being punishingly self-aware or unkind to yourself, and that it’s good to strive for happiness and to treat yourself well.
this was so beautifully written <333
ur very intelligent and i hope u well on ur new journey to find happiness and peace!!
this makes my heart ache in the best way, and serves as a very healthy reminder that i am also not special/unique in my struggles or rationalizing of them. thank you for sharing 🖤
this is really beautifully written, you’ve put words to something I think has been important to me in recovery too. I’m glad you’re on a better road now 💕
sometimes i feel paralyzed by recognizing the honesty that I need, so i don’t often let people get close enough to see my deficits - i am a performer, so good and hollow, so warm and empty. i smell like a recycling bin with wet refuse coating the sides, but at least i look pretty.
i can see when people see through me, and i get scared. “what do you see? can you tear me down the way i so desperately crave it?” like a girl who’s been stockholm syndrome’d by Dracula. i’m reminded of that one scene from Girl, Interrupted where Whoopi Goldberg’ as character tears into Winona Ryder’s with “You are a lazy, self-indulgent, little girl who’s driving herself crazy,” when i get into a low swing; harsh, yes, but a reminder most of us need to placate our neuroses. getting there.
Sending out our posts within 5 minutes of each-other, our minds <3
This is fantastic stuff Charlie!!
I’ve come back to this basically every week since it’s publication. Beautiful <3
I really love all of your writing and this piece felt especially relevant to me right now. On a completely different note... I’ve noticed that there are several American writers (I think they (and you) are American) who use the British spelling of certain words. Is this simply an artistic choice or is there a reason behind it?
thank u for this piece ! ive very rarely found language for the intersection of i guess ego/burnt out former 'gifted' kid (ew) with the reflexively performative masochism that has been for me central in my experience w disordered eating - and u have found it so perfectly. the crushing self-awareness of being congratulated by a therapist for /self-awareness/ and my silly brain using that as reinforcement of my personal paradigm of /suffering/ that defies the understanding of people less 'Uniquely Tortured' than myself - that self-importance is so insidious and argh u have captured it ! getting older n trying to recenter myself on not subconsciously elevating the plight of More Intellectually Superior Pain is a reckoning im not yet good at, so im v grateful to have this, a capturing that i will be bookmarking and probably quoting this for a v long time so thank u thank u thank u (and sorry for the long comment ! x)
"Using beautiful and forlorn vocabulary to narrate your own self destruction does not change the fact that you are destroying yourself."
just found you through a few different substacks (i believe it was a recommended from Embedded?) and this really caught my eye. you are an incredible writer. excited to follow you!
I've been trying to put into words this cake scene. this ceremonious sacrifice of corrupting food. thank you
GOD u articulate how i make my own introspection into a kind of performance art in such a real way. In a lot of ways, being self-aware has really helped me stop replicating shitty patterns, or helped me help others reflect on their own thoughts. but in other ways it completely stops me from living. Like, I want to just make an impulsive decision, to not have everything be so calculated. To not always be thinking about What It Means before the “it” has even happened.
The bit about being called precocious too many times... I think eventually having multiple psychologists tell u that ur ‘uniquely self-aware’ is its own kind of meta mind fuck.
And ur so right. At a certain point, u gotta trade some of the artistry of the act of introspecting, the valor self-analyzing and self-flagellating, for actually living.
This essay is going to stick with me for a long long time
needed this so damn bad. Hoping I can change :)