u/Lower_Ad_4214

Which large-scale hierarchy should be dismantled first?

I've encountered a few different answers to this question. Many would say capitalism. Others argue that systemic racism needs to go first. Ivan Ilyich in Deschooling Society suggested that replacing our education system may lead to other inequalities falling.

I'll share my answer in a moment, but here are my questions:

First, what are the opinions of anarchist and anarchist-adjacent writers on this matter?

Second, what are your thoughts about this?

Here's my belief: we need to attack not only all systemic hierarchies (like capitalism, white supremacy, cisheteropatriarchy, ableism, statism, etc.) at once, but we also need to change the general public's preference for hierarchical arrangements of people. My main reason is that hierarchies are intertwined. Capitalism is inextricably linked to states, for example, so attacking one not only helps weaken the other but also may be necessary to destroy either one.

I know "little" is relative, but to me, something like wanting to stay around for your child's graduation or to release an album would be pretty big reasons to live. I'm talking about things that may seem inconsequential.

An example from my past: getting to read The Mysteries of Udolpho.

There was a stretch of many years when I was indifferent to life. I had ideas in mind for things I'd like to do if I happened to survive (finishing my PhD, publishing a novel, etc.), but if I died before then, whatever.

Fast forward to fall 2022. I was getting into Gothic literature, and I wanted to read The Mysteries of Udolpho. More than that, I found myself so excited about the idea that I wanted to stay alive specifically so that I could read it. After so long, I had a reason to live, even if it wasn't that grand.

I did read it, and while I can't say it lived up to the hype (few things could live up to that kind of hype), I enjoyed it. Even the ways in which it was ridiculous.

So, I ask: what are your little reasons to keep going?

I'd like to talk about what I felt emotionally when I was psychotic, and I'd be fascinated to read all of your perspectives as well.

First, my primary symptom was paranoid delusions. I'll focus on my last episode this past fall, when I believed the CIA was spying on me through loved ones and coworkers, putting me in the way of other people on purpose to see how I'd handle it, and broadcasting my thoughts and sensory experiences to their HQ.

So, how did it make me feel?

Very anxious, for one thing. I kept ruminating on the situation in my head over and over and making no progress truly understanding what they wanted.

Confused. When did the surveillance start? Why me? What did the numbers 68 and/or 168 mean? At that point, I'd been seeing them a lot for about four years.

Frustrated. It was aggravating that these incidents of people putting me in the way at the CIA's behest kept happening, that my colleagues were monitoring me through devices for them, etc.

At times, even angry. I remember one day when I was teaching, I was erasing the board, and I had to restrain myself from shouting at those observing me from Langley.

I despaired. I despaired that I was powerless to do anything about my situation. Sometimes, I'd think of something funny when I was home alone, start to laugh at my silly thought, and then stop an instant later when I remembered I was being watched: I didn't want to appear undignified, even in front of those invading my privacy.

And paranoia itself has a unique emotional experience for me. It's like anxiety, even outright fear or terror, mixed with a certain anger ("It's wrong for you to do these things to me!").

Finally, positive emotions, when they did come, were sometimes dulled. I stayed on my medication dutifully, so it was not as bad as times when I've missed a dose -- I just needed a higher dosage, it turned out.

Like I said at the beginning, I'm curious to know: how was your emotional state when you were psychotic?

You know, the kind that'll shake the fake cake off a Quaker baker?

Quite the delight.

I sometimes hear a sound faintly when it should have stopped. A couple examples:

Once, I was listening to driving when a cop car passed with sirens on. Even after the car was out of sight, I faintly heard the siren for a while.

Another time, I went outside a while and got harassed by a bee. When I went inside (without the bee), I heard quiet buzzing for maybe half a minute to a minute.

So, I wonder whether anyone else here has had similar experiences. Or, have you had something like this with other senses?

Either that or "Arabian Knights" would have to be my favorite goth song, so I'm wondering, what else out there is like "Into the Light"?

After my dad died over 14 years ago, I used to get these dreams quite a lot where he'd come back to life but was still dying. Well, I had another yesterday morning, but this one was different: as he walked away to bed, he said, "Good night, [name]." Tears welled in my eyes, and I said, "Aww, thank you!"

I didn't seriously question my gender until after my dad died, so I sometimes wonder how he would have reacted. Whether this dream was his spirit affirming me or mere wish fulfillment, it was awfully nice.

Please forgive the length. Let me start with where I used to be.

When I was in high school, my mother was in an abusive relationship. I came to believe that my violent fantasies against the man who hurt her meant I'd turn out to be an abuser like him. Between my first two years of college, while I was in a relationship, I started to fear that I actually had been abusive towards my partner (now ex).

At the beginning, it was really intense. Even though he gave me permission to look at his blog, I thought it was an invasion of privacy. I liked to text some variation of "good night, I love you," every night, but I worried: did this qualify as harassment? But if I stopped, wouldn't that be "withholding affection?" At least once, I questioned my memory, thinking maybe I'd done something egregious like demean him or shout at him or hit him, and then just forgot.

When others, like my ex himself or mutual friends or every mental health professional I've seen since then, told me I wasn't abusive, I'd sometimes be relieved. Other times, I'd think, "Well, if I tell them about this, then they'll realize I was abusive." But increasingly often, I thought they were lying to me to keep me from hurting myself, for telling my ex about my self-harm and suicidal thoughts was one of the main things I worried was abuse: I conflated confiding these things with "threatening suicide."

Needless to say, OCD was one of my first diagnoses. I've had like twenty different diagnoses, but OCD has been my most debilitating. Here's why:

To prevent myself from harming others, I isolated from everyone outside my family except my ex. No dating. No new friends. No old friends except him. This isolation lasted about a decade, and I still haven't been on a date since then. The isolation officially ended when I happened to make a couple new friends, though, two years ago.

Then, this kind of just... stopped.

For reasons unknown to me, it started to seem more likely that I was not abusive. I'll still have those thoughts now and then, but it's much easier to challenge and move on from them. Instead, my main theme now seems to be Harm OCD. While the intrusive images are dreadful, it's much easier for me personally than thinking I'm forever marked as an evil, unlovable abuser.

I really wish I could explain why this happened. I wish I could offer good advice on how to heal from Real Event OCD. But, again, I don't quite know why this happened.

The change happened last May. I wanted to wait a year before I declared myself officially "better." And who knows? These thoughts could return, worse than ever, later today. As we like to say, maybe, maybe not.

But, however long it lasts, man it feels good to be free of this.

Skull the Skunk and I have been discussing merging financial portfolios, but she keeps tickling my belly until I pass gas. Any advice would be underappreciated. Tanks and add Vance.