Hatred Disorder

I don't think that hatred is all together anathema to existence. It is still very dangerous and destructive and it's personal elimination is very important to my wellness. And, believe me, when someone says that something is "very important," remember: it might just be. In my study of hatred and my own 60 year affliction and serial attempt to rid myself of this monsterous disease, I realize that hatred seems to be acceptable in one particular time set: the teenaged years. It's almost socially acceptable for teenagers to hate their parents during their agnst. Just an observation. A very intelligent young man coined the term, hatred disorder. And that fits. I've suffered from a hatred disorder, on and off, for 60 years. I thought it had been neutered during the fall of 2022. Permanently. It was not to be as revealled by my relapse. I would be the greatest fool imaginable if I did not use this experience, and experience that I'm still recovering from, as an in depth examination of hatred and it's effect on me. I come by it honest, so I don't have to explore the why of it. Rather, I want to its essence. Does it arise from helplessless as toddlers. Our hopelessness when it comes to loss, and even harm. Is that my story? Did my helplessness become this thing that would consume me for practically my entire life? Did it shape me? Of course it did. I think sometimes it shaped me into my professioal path, which is perfect in my chosen profession. I do know that my hatred of a man named Billy Leebern was my impetus to get a bacherlors' degree. Simply because I saw one from the University of Georgia hanging on his office wall, thinking, if that mother-fucker can get a bacherlors' degree, this one can, too. Let's leave the office of self-hatred for another day.

Love, Joy, Peace, Compassion, Kindness, Community, Malleability, Surrender, Forgiveness, . . .

These words, which I just wrote, heal me from the intenses ravages of seeting hatred I've recently experienced. Forgiveness is key. I pray for grace to forgive religion, nationalism, greed, ambition, cruelty, hatred, ignorance, backwardness, division, seething rage, murder, rape, incest, and those who have committed these and other heinous acts of barbarity. I'm not going to spend a great deal of time in carving up the meaning of the "forgiveness." Goddammnit, I'm just going to do it. It all begins with non-hatred. Non-hatred by be ocean deep, but I've entered the water, legs first, meaning it won't really start counting until I'm fully immersed -- in the other side of this, one of many pairs of opposites. The sunny side of the equation that bears the marks of both.

PHILOSOPHY - Schopenhauer

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I'm going to tweak slightly the ancient dharma (Four Noble Truths and Noble Eight Fold Path) based upon my own experiences. Life is indeed fraught with suffering; suffering is baked in to this life, so to speak. Suffering most certainly has a cause. Here's where I have to insert some things. Though the cause (singular) is Desire, according to the sutras, it is not the only cause when it come to East Fourth North Street. So, I supplement Desire with Hatred and its minions, Anger, Ill Will, and Resentment. The fourth truth is that there exists a cure for suffering, and that is the eight fold path: Right View, Right Thougts, Right Expression, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Dillegence, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration, remembering the each is to be considered in tandem with their counterballast: No Wrong View, No thoughts, No Expression (silence), and inaction. Right Dilligence is enormously important, because it escorts me 24/7 and stands at the ready to keep me from fucking up. Thank you, RD.

The Calculus of the Recovery from Hatred (As Hate approaches Love, what is the value of Me)

Hatred is not something that is discussed in clinical terms very often at all, at least from my experience. It should be. What is it? Of what does hatred consist? What is at least anecdotally known is that it makes people, some people, very sick after a spell hatred. Mental exhaustion and depression invariably follow a bout with hatred, unless one pretends it away with escapism in one or more of its many forms. Hatred's opposite, of course, is, in the beginning, non-hatred and it's gradual ascent toward love. When hatred is directed a specfic person, and that seething rage circulates ad hominem, within and without, love is a ridiculous alternative. But, there exists a sliding scale that has worked for me. First: Can I love the hated one. Invariably, the answer is, "not on your life." Secondly, can I have compassion for the hated one. Again, that box is rarely checked. But, third, can I simply accept that the hated one and I exist, and that I should simply practice non-hatred at first, leading to the eventual letting go. To think there'll be eventual love is simply out. As regards these persons, and indeed places and things, the best I can, is going to end at letting go. I don't give up on moving further along, to kindness (an act), and it's object, compassion, but it would be a grave mistake to try to skin ahead. There are antecedent moves that open laws of letting go. I have to work the steps, just like in AA. So, the point is made: I can[t got straight to love. While it sounds good, the act is nonsense. I have to approach love, like calculus (hate approaching love). As hate approaches love, what is the everchanging value of me. (h horizontal arrow l) affecting the value of m. The oddyssey from h to l begins, in my way of thinking with first attempting simple acceptance of the existence of hatred, even in me, and then consciously working away from it toward non-hatred. Then acceptance, not of hatred, but of the fact that I a prone to bouts of hatred, clinical hatred, upon the presence of the right conditions. Dilligence should warn me that these conditions are gathering, but, at least as concerns this last monstrous attack, I didn't recognize the onlsaught until it was too late. I am deeply to those were were exposed, even tangentially, to it as it consumed me. I can do better. To recognize the hatred's assemblege, and what better opportunity is there to imbed this into my bones now that the presidential election is upon me. I'm going to accept the outcome with flowers. With tiny bees and fall colors, frost astors, and bright blue skies. Dilligence is my morning jacket. But it's not to forgo another hate-sick morbid hangover and slow recovery. That's ancillary. I'll do it, and godammit I will, because it's a right as anything I can imagine.