So I was thinking about writing a self-help book called Unfuck Your Own Shit. Not that I’m an expert at being sane, wise or smart but I’ve had shit, it’s been fucked and I’ve unfucked it. Not all of it. No human gets that. I’ve just worked on enough to know I need to always be working on it. That’s kinda what being a human being is, sometimes: working to unfuck your own shit so that you can become a better person all the time.
Not stronger. Better. Stronger doesn’t always mean better. I can become a stronger person by subjecting myself to torture for a month. It won’t make me a better person, but it’ll make me stronger for having survived. But then again, so what? No, becoming a better person tends to make you stronger along with it.
So. Unfuck Your Own Shit. Well I was thinking about an outline…
Step 1: Name your shit. Naming the things wrong with you, giving words and phrases to your behavior will let you recognize it and become familiar with it. Once you are on speaking terms with your own problems you can address them directly.
Step 2: Find the core of your shit. Things don’t happen for no reason. Maybe you were dropped on the head as a child and now you have a thing about hats. Maybe you were secretly in love with Smurfette and now you have self-destructive tendencies that make you fall for really short women. Perhaps your family life, like everyone else’s, wasn’t perfect and it fucked you up and you can find the threads there.
Step 3: Don’t place blame. Look, you know what helped you down the road to fucking up your shit, that’s great. Chances are you can’t change it. So you could blame it and point fingers and scream “Seeeee Smurfette is why!” all you want but that won’t actually, you know, fix anything. It’ll just make you feel better and make everyone else wonder when you’ll stop screaming about the Smurfs, you sick fuck.
Step 4: Accept. So, all right, you are a fucked up dude. So is everyone else. That doesn’t excuse it, but it can help wash away the lump of “I’m so fucked up and so alone in being fucked up and no one understands me.” Go cry, emo kid. Come back when you’re ready to sack up and face your own demons. They exist. They have power over you. They are real. Got it? Good.
Step 5: Adjust. Once you know that you get so hard when you see a clown with blue hair (damn you Grandma and your long luxurious legs) that you might just split your pants and then, once you get that hard, you start punching people in fear and shame… well. Well, well, well. Stop it. By now you should have realized the behavior, come to terms with it, and now it is time to stop hitting people just because you weren’t comfortable with yourself.
Step 6: Be smarter than me. See, I can lay shit out for you all day but really the idea here is to springboard off of it. Not to take me at face value and follow everything to the letter. Find the flaws. Adjust. Enhance. Make it your own, so long as it works. And by works I mean “yields results without harming others and without needing you to be a dick about it”. See, you’re on your way to being a better person already!
Step 7: Bask. You get two days of this.
Step 8: Goto 1. Seriously. the process doesn’t stop. So you unfucked some of your shit, you want a fucking prize? Congratz, you are marginally better off than you were when you started this. Now go back to the beginning and start over because I promise you – you have more shit to deal with. That’s part of being human. So go cope with it and grow and try to become a better person. Why not? you got something better to do with your life?
Shit, it isn’t an all the time, every second kind of thing. But if you don’t improve yourself why should anyone else? Why should they care about you if you just sit there and expect people to come to you regardless? Why should you be respected if you can’t be bothered to fix yourself? No, seriously. Why should anyone give a fuck about you if you can’t be bothered to fix your own shit? Who should fix it for you?
Which isn’t to say “therapy is bullshit” at all, either, for the record and before someone else says it. Some people benefit from assistance. Some people don’t. How you fix your shit is yours to work out, really. The steps are the same, partner in crime along for the ride at a hefty fee per hour or not. Whatever it takes though, emotionally we’re sharks.
We stop growing and we die.