Sunday, January 18, 2009

136

I can't avoid it any more. My IQ is 136. I wanted it to be over 140, but it just isn't. It's time to move on.

As a child I developed a bunch of narratives in order to survive the constant onslaught of my vindictive gorilla of a super ego. These myths tend to center around some unexpressed, inherent, brilliance - waiting for the perfect moment to emerge.

From an early age, despite all evidence to the contrary, I held the belief that I was an unrecognized genius of some form. When the bulk of my age group started to drift away and eventually ridicule me, I wrote it off as just an expression of the jealousy of my less intelligent peers.

Well, it's time to let this one go. 136 is above average. By some measures it puts me between the 95th and 98th percentile. It isn't the deus ex machina my fragile juvenile mind needed, but it'll do.

I have spent too much time vacillating between the fictional poles of superiority and inferiority with regards to my intelligence. Maybe now I can put the matter to rest.

If I can ever shed all of this poisonous, crippling, self loathing I might be able to put it what brain power I do have to good use.

3 comments:

  1. 136? Mine is 141. Sorry, you stupid fuck.

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  2. I have NPD,
    and even though I know it is presented in many different forms and circumstances, the main thing I would share with you about my efforts to recover, is that admitting it, understanding it has never been enough.

    The only way out for me is not to try and change who I am, but to orchestrate my own life, to satisfy the delusions that I can never escape, to pretend, or in fact, to believe that my delusions of grandeur are at least partially true.

    In short, I don't think there can be a "cure" for NPD, it is who I am, and the only way to be happy is to accept that.
    It is a sorry state of affairs and relapses of self loathing do occur now and again. For me, getting by is about maintaining suspension, to continually ensure that the imaginary world where I am wonderful is not noticeably contradicted by reality.

    A temporary alternative that i use in times of despair is to make myself feel better (ironically) by suffering voluntarily, to accept that the misfortune of my upbringing has left me permanently damaged, and that only "right" thing to do is to suppress my craving for the things that I use in place of self-esteem.

    This way it feels like I am in control when things aren't going my way, until circumstances improve, and enable me to enter back into a blissful world of my own construction.

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