Deserve To Suffer

I give up the things that I love.

Started thinking about it when I read Andre Agassi's autobiography.

I love tennis. Always did. Played tennis a lot when I was in high school and I was pretty damn good at it.

Probably haven't played now for 50 years. Why?

I love to watch tennis. I rarely watch tennis.

I love playing the trumpet. And I was pretty damn good at it. First trumpet, first chair in high school (for what that's worth). Rarely played since.

I have a trumpet. My family gave it to me. I pick it up from time to time and play it and think "Gee whiz, this feels pretty good, feels so right." I don't pick it up again for 10 years.

Know what I don't do a lot of when I am home? Listen to music. Why?

Music is my life's blood. What the fuck am I thinking?

I could list five more "things that I love that I don't do", but I sense that you are getting bored.

I believe I have some deep rooted darkness in my twisted psyche that intentionally keeps me from doing the things that I love to do. As a form of punishment. All because my mother forced me to eat fish.

Subconsciously I believe I deserve to suffer. 

In the world of addiction and mental illness it is recognized that patients believe they deserve to suffer, and that they don't deserve happiness and peace, that they deserve lives of pain and struggle. They develop emotional, thought, and behavioral patterns that revolve around these toxic beliefs. They become self-hating and obsessed with their insecurities, and become self-destructive and self-sabotaging.

Hmmmmmmmmm............

Am I incapable of being happy? There's a word for that - anhedonia: "The inability to feel pleasure, a common symptom of depression and other mental health disorders."

Larry David and Richard Lewis come to mind. Two very close friends of mine.

Since I haven't lined up a therapist yet, I started talking to a hooker.

Turned out to be a brilliant move. Talking to her has led me to discover that I am brilliant. With a killer sense of humor and a deep, deep mind. An intellectual giant and superb physical specimen.

She makes me feel good about myself. At least when I'm with her.

It's early. I have time to clean up and play my trumpet, time to watch tennis, time to listen to music.

But..........................maybe I'll just sit in my recliner, sip whiskey and watch the Sweet 16 leg of March Madness.

Gotta conserve energy.

Gotta work tomorrow.

(Editor's Note: Psychology Today identifies laziness and procrastination as strong indicators of mental incapacity. Or, more generally, as indicators of a slothful approach to life.)