I thought about it more and I realize that my thoughts on Fame are what they are (unbalanced) because of two childhood traumas.
First, I had to take an absolute position on not giving a fuck in order to individuate, to become a person—total detachment was required, and I suppose I liked it too—no one else living in my head, no other noise—a kind of quiet, and a kind of freedom. The freedom to be me. That I was real, and not someone’s possession. That I had some value, some real worth that was not just a measure of someone else’s standards and expectations. That I was enough, regardless of anyone else, whatever they might think or say.
Second, my chronic childhood sexual abuse and the adult sexual assaults—in a way, I just want to be invisible. I’m going to go about my business, and I’m going to blend in and disappear. Maybe that means you won’t see me, or think about me, or touch me. I can’t be predated if I don’t exist. Put simply, rape is anti-pleasure, so I want anti-fame. I will do whatever I can to not be present—used to be I would dissociate, or not show up. These days, I try to appear unremarkable, and I think about being uber-average.
Not trusting people is hard, because it leads to a lonely life. Loneliness is not pleasurable, and loneliness is not happy. But I do trust people now—in that most people are safe, and a good number would hurt me without concern in trying to meet their needs.
Disability was not as big a blow as it is for some, because I was already a homebody. When I am in my nest, I am safe.
But take all that, and combine it with the sx/sp subtype. Combine it with intimacy being my core value. The need to know, and be known. The desire to merge, for union—to forget myself, to disappear through fusion.
It may sound silly, but doing anything that attracts attention is experienced by me as a risk. That said, I know I have grown, or that I have need, because my actions have changed. I express in ways contrary to what culture tells me is correct—usually things that have to do with being a man.
I don’t know how much time I have left, and I want have to be authentic. If you see me, that’s okay. Because I have come to accept that there is a pleasure in certain kinds of self-expression. I die inside if I don’t do those things.
Thanks for allowing me to ramble,
Ian