Chronicles of Psychological Abuse - Memoirs of a Jail

[purple_teardrops]

I wonder if Kohaku and Myu's Shirou along with square-eyed Rider fans will post a few of their misadventures here too...

Well, while i few that i should post this (and i'll likely get posted on some random comments thread still to come) on a more private and diary-like space, guess i just wanna feel like venting off, both about successes and failures, wounds and blaring trumpets of victory.

Returned a while ago from a 'meeting' with the local private jail's (ops, i meant rehab facility) staff. I had requested the meeting, in a way. Think i needed the answer on whether somebody was an asshole or not, which was given, and though i'm not regretting it fully, losh, what a pain in the chest of an answer. Tell me, if psychological abuse and violence can't be placed as the same as physical violence, then why is my heart chakra, you know, the one in the middle of the chest (about three fingers up from the top of chestbone) screaming in pain? Feels like i took quite a few punches in there... Not pleasant.

I'm sure the animals that did that feel as though they're the best for doing it. I think it has to do with inversion of roles, when somebody was once mistreated, and due to that, feels both sick at its former self, the vulnerable one, and feels worship-like admiration of the one that mistreats... Worships the one that mistreats. Feels great at stepping someone down, after all, there's no way to climb a ladder towards the safety of the top of the hierarchy without stomping a ladder step down... The duality of the Mars-influenced mind... The way the Child gets killed and asphyxiated to death and the Distorted-Commonplace-Adult becomes... But i digress...

The place's coordinator is a complete narcissist, unable to admit mistakes, and more than likely to throw any guilt for its (sic; purposeful) mistakes on top of the person who actually suffered from such mistakes. The asshole grabbed my cash and bought a few things i didn't ask for, and even though the twerp was wrong in doing so, all it could do was threaten me, say it would "cut out my priviledges", like a place to stay alone in the emphasis brainwash facility and internet use.

Tried to make me feel as though i was the guilty one. I think everyone here should get internet, but hell, the fucktard made sure to make me feel as though i was receiving something that was like magical, when it fact it should be given to everyone.

Then the local therapist (oh wtf) kept saying how special i was for being given attention by a complete idiot of a narcissist, and how i should apologize and admit my mistakes... The defining points of my mistakes being that I didn't simply say that 'duRr MashTaA WuZ RiTE" or something just as submissively stupid, but then again, what can i do but anticipate the moves of egoholics?

At first at expected the guy to act like a human being. When i realized that all of its human-like behaviours at first were just attempts at trying to make me see it as someone friendly, and thus someone i should attach to. I realized the game, and thus i started lying outright, saying what they wanted to hear, answers filled with fake shame and regret...
I shall always be honest to true human beings. Once i realized what i thought was someone and instead turns out to be an it, a humonkey, carte blanche hits the table, no guilt is felt for dirty behaviour on my part.

I decided to lie to them and manipulate them as well. Since i had a very accurate blueprint of their behaviour, archetypes and driving forces included... Their behaviours were suddenly 100% predictable. Oppa Eltnam Style, shall it be said. I can't say i felt somewhat revenged, but seriously... They were the ones falling into my game, and not the other way around. And i felt like i could take that further... They could become my playthings, now that i have their personality layouts.

I think this might be a stupid way to try to grant myself solace; the sadness for being mistreated is still here. Part of me feels sorry for those people, their personalities, their palaces, their chains of psychological functions is utterly broken; it doesn't stand on its own, and if those personalities don't receive stimuli, like praisal, ass-licking, admiration, submission to its authorities... Those personalities will fall apart; they're constructs built upon their inner childlish selves, things that mutilated beings create to fill the void while still denying their own true selves...

But still, what could be done? The abuse was predicted, the abuse was preproduced before it was reproduced in reality, while the center of the chest still hurts...
Still, i can't help but wonder... How those animals roam freely in society? How could society be mostly composed by such animals?

Their foggy mirrors can't stand being wrong, in a way because their past interactions made sure that they came to illogically hate being wrong, despise, deny being wrong like the wounded animals they still are...

And now i'm a wounded animal too. Thankfully, i know how to lick my wounds, and truly, my loving shadow still accompanies me. In a way, those that replace the mirror image of the self, i believe, with the artificial collecitve of individuals that isn't collective at all, but still, tries to pretend to be goddeity, are empty, having sacrificed their selves in exchange for... What, cheap stimuli, instead of choosing the long dark lonesome road?

Guess those that choose violence and stepping on others to climb the hierarchy instead of choosing harmony are doomed to experience far more pain than they realize. I shall not hate them, especially because, given that to such creatures, nothing is worst than becoming nothing in their insignificance, because although they don't admit it, they can't truly accept that they mean nothing, because they do want to be something... To have a voice, to be heard... Which most of those who seek balance soon find out that isn't something that commonly happens...

And thus, here i am, still being abused, with assholes trying to convince me that the scraps of bread i can gather from the table are gold nuggets, so that they might become the all-important people they in the end wished to be.

Poor them, i guess.
As for me, i think this is way past long, and i doubt most will read. Guess i shall try to lick my wounds now...