Dog Barking at the Moon (1926) Joan Miró
This is a habit of mine that waxes and wanes. Recently I have found myself more often seeking out disputes on social media. I don’t bother with engaging with those who are extremely diametrically opposed to me or those who are so fervent in their ideas that analysis and information will not sway them. Instead, it’s usually someone who almost believes the same things as me but has a minor ideological difference that can be seeped into and cracked apart. These are almost always political, both because politics is an easy target and also because everything is political. Ultimately these ideological sticking points don’t have any real world repercussions, nor do they in any way influence the way hierarchical systems impose themselves on us. I think I have always been a contrarian and possibly self involved and definitely conditioned with some entitlement. This is, I believe, why these acts exhibit in this way. Partially, these actions stem from a desire to change the world for the better and actually influence those around me to also alter the world for the better, if only I can prove that I am right.
In a world that is constantly changing and vulnerable to the whims of the rich and powerful, there is something extremely appealing in the idea that you could change the belief in another. Then there are the chemicals. Oh these are great chemicals. When you spend most of your waking hours of the day feeling nothing, the intensity that these digital combats induce is pure succor. On days where I struggle and every act is devoid of enjoyment, and when doom scrolling elicits not a drop of dopamine, nothing is more rewarding than the stab of cortisol and the swelling of arteries. I seek out stories of current events, social strife, political goings on because I truly do desire to make a better sense of the world and how the experience of others differs from mine own. Additionally, an obsession with social science lends itself very well to obsessing with huge problems that deliver an endless supply of mental cuts.
Harm seeking, at least for me, is bred out of a desire of self-agency. I think that this is common for a lot of individuals and is a consequence of our animal brains being thrust into human civilization. As a white man, there is a degree to which I have been conditioned to expect life to happen for me which collides spectacularly with a genetic incline towards mental illness. There is a default state of unhappiness. This state may exist despite the fact that nothing is wrong and I actively have good things around me. Normal is normal but, normal is not happy. Subconsciously I learned that a good way to get a little bit of happy is to have a problem to fix. Even if I couldn’t fix it sometimes scary and sad felt good. Maybe not good but different than normal. I have developed a nervous tic over the years called trichotillomania. It results in some people being hideously bald or missing eyebrows but I am privileged enough that I occasionally have a wonky beard. Something about searching for the perfect hair, finding it, twisting, tugging, plucking. The millisecond of pain or discomfort before the rush of relief and chemicals.
As an almost cliche allegory, this compulsion manifests in my life at large. Jobs, grades, relationships daily interactions can fall victim to this metaphorical picking. Self-sabotage is a form of self-harm. Having something to fix can give purpose, be a distraction. Searching for the perfect crack, finding it, prying, wedging, splitting. Discomfort and stiffe is unfortunately days, weeks, months but the rush of relief lasts proportionally very short but the chemicals are always there. If the problems you create are bad enough, the urge arises to create new problems in search of more chemicals. Luckily I found that Desvenlafaxine provides enough chemicals for me to not completely destroy my life, and if I am having a boring day, I may argue with leftists about the best way to obtain a social utopia or if voting is worthwhile. identifying this when it is happening is the best way of circumventing the process. Sometimes it’s okay to to indulge oneself but indulgence cannot become coping and coping cannot become self-harm.
I’ve titled this sub HUNT THE RICH after an amusing reactionary thought I had while doom scrolling and hate commenting. I hope to be able to engage in some (well researched and cited) social and political musings but mostly I am creating a healthier distraction for myself that can hopefully lead to becoming a better writer and more introspective. I hope to practice creating something rather than constantly consuming and churning. Above all, I hope to be able to connect with other people and truly express myself.
Happy Hunting,
CB