[ Automatic Transmission Intercepted | Sufferlandrian Inbound]
Good news. If you’re reading this, it means I am still alive. I must have finally found it!
My implanted GPS has automatically triggered this post upon my re-entry to Sufferlandria.
My physical body must be in the vicinity of the border.
Undoubtedly weak, soft, and slow.
My mental state and decision-making capacity can not be trusted until a thorough 4DP examination and prolonged intense exposure to Sufferlandrian Holy Water.
...and The Cure, naturally.
The circumstances of my return are yet unknown, even to me.
These notes were transcribed to the GPS transmitter before I departed from Couchlandria. I was to abide by absolute radio silence and would not risk blowing my cover before completing my mission.
------------
I have not left Sufferlandria. You can never really leave. I’ve gone on an undercover mission to Couchlandria.
Primary mission: rediscover my “Why.”
With the deconstruction of my Torture Chamber back in October came a forced rest interval of unknown duration. Those are the worst, trust me. This interval ultimately was four months long.
I had to step away from the bike, and I knew it.
On the positive side, this year has been phenomenal with several notable accomplishments, so taking a break didn’t seem like the end of the world.
Nonetheless, a dark time. Not the right kind of Dark, either. (How I long for that end-of-3-minute-MAP-interval feeling!)
During this time I abruptly moved (evicted) from my ~8-year residence to a new flat, separated with my 15-year partner in marriage, and readjusted to a new joint-custody routine (3 kids: 11,9,5). At the same time, I’ve started a brand new business, gone heavily into debt. Then that twisted two-month Tinder ordeal gone horribly wrong (while undoubtedly fun at times). Nearly forgot to mention a relapse of some extreme Chouchlandrian habits from days past that have caused damage to both my pocket and lung capacity, yet have done the most to help me find my Why. Go figure.
Stress is beyond measure, including 36 hours of total meltdown both physically and mentally.
I have been clawing my way towards Sufferlandria ever since then, as that was my Epiphany. I had found my Why.
My greatest discovery is that there is Suffering Everywhere.
It is a constant presence, with untold manifestations. Unavoidable, a Force of Nature, like Gravity.
And like Gravity, we act to counter it:
We use a cup to resist Gravity, pulling our coffee to the floor.
Likewise, we might use a beer to resist suffering from a long day.
We can even lie to ourselves to subdue the Suffering of mental anguish and say “it’s fine” as resistance.
My implanted GPS has automatically triggered this post upon my re-entry to Sufferlandria.
My physical body must be in the vicinity of the border.
Undoubtedly weak, soft, and slow.
My mental state and decision-making capacity can not be trusted until a thorough 4DP examination and prolonged intense exposure to Sufferlandrian Holy Water.
...and The Cure, naturally.
The circumstances of my return are yet unknown, even to me.
These notes were transcribed to the GPS transmitter before I departed from Couchlandria. I was to abide by absolute radio silence and would not risk blowing my cover before completing my mission.
------------
I have not left Sufferlandria. You can never really leave. I’ve gone on an undercover mission to Couchlandria.
Primary mission: rediscover my “Why.”
With the deconstruction of my Torture Chamber back in October came a forced rest interval of unknown duration. Those are the worst, trust me. This interval ultimately was four months long.
I had to step away from the bike, and I knew it.
On the positive side, this year has been phenomenal with several notable accomplishments, so taking a break didn’t seem like the end of the world.
Nonetheless, a dark time. Not the right kind of Dark, either. (How I long for that end-of-3-minute-MAP-interval feeling!)
During this time I abruptly moved (evicted) from my ~8-year residence to a new flat, separated with my 15-year partner in marriage, and readjusted to a new joint-custody routine (3 kids: 11,9,5). At the same time, I’ve started a brand new business, gone heavily into debt. Then that twisted two-month Tinder ordeal gone horribly wrong (while undoubtedly fun at times). Nearly forgot to mention a relapse of some extreme Chouchlandrian habits from days past that have caused damage to both my pocket and lung capacity, yet have done the most to help me find my Why. Go figure.
Stress is beyond measure, including 36 hours of total meltdown both physically and mentally.
I have been clawing my way towards Sufferlandria ever since then, as that was my Epiphany. I had found my Why.
My greatest discovery is that there is Suffering Everywhere.
It is a constant presence, with untold manifestations. Unavoidable, a Force of Nature, like Gravity.
And like Gravity, we act to counter it:
We use a cup to resist Gravity, pulling our coffee to the floor.
Likewise, we might use a beer to resist suffering from a long day.
We can even lie to ourselves to subdue the Suffering of mental anguish and say “it’s fine” as resistance.
We naturally react according to our capabilities, tools, resources, and experiences.
Of course, there are countless forms, as are manifestations of Suffering, Pain, Misery, and Agony.
My Revelation, in light of this discovery, is, in the words of Aenea: Choose Again.
How will you choose to Suffer?
The Couchlandrian way is Comfort. Keeping yourself comfortable, snacking on the couch, binge-watching shows and other horrendous acts of self-mutilation involving donuts and - I can’t go on.
Anyway, with Suffering being constant, in one form or another, the Couchlandrian seeks Comfort as resistance.
It eases the pain, numbs the nerves, calms the thoughts and body, and pretty much works great - if a Couchlandrian is what you are or want to become.
The Couchlandrian tendencies are highly contagious and easily rival the traction of a sticky bidon any day. Be warned.
But there is no order, no purpose in this path of Suffering.
It is wasted Suffering and only numbs the minds of the Couchlandrians. They become slaves to their consumption of goods, services, and Entertainment.
Purposeless, wasted, suffering, in a vicious circle.
The Sufferlandrian, on the other hand, chooses to suffer to deal with Suffering. He has an ace up his sleeve. The Sufferlandrian devilishly undergoes rigorous sessions of self-imposed physical and mental torture daily.
He is ready for anything life can throw at him. Nothing can be as hard as those sessions.
He has his routine all planned out; he knows exactly where he’s heading.
The Sufferlandrian has his nutrition in check, sleep patterns are stable, daily agenda all buttoned up. The SUF Regime demands it. He suffers to counter the Suffering.
So both Couchlandrian and Sufferlandrian choose their way. Couchlandrians choose Comfort to ease the Suffering, while the Sufferlandrians choose physical and mental training.
The way of Comfort is without purpose. It has no “why,” and therefore, upon confronting his pains, the Couchlandrian will have nothing to stand upon and fail eternally. He has no tools to deal with his suffering but the distracting Comfort and Entertainment.
The Sufferlandrian has chosen his own Suffering and, therefore, rather masochistically, enjoys it.
He knows why he’s doing it. His Why is a bottomless well of Bravery, Strength, Dedication, Commitment, and Certainty.
To the Sufferlandrian, who has a new definition of Suffering, what the common Couchlandrian deals with is part of the plan.
Simply put, the Sufferlandrian way trains one to master body and mind when dealing with Suffering, in any form it comes.
The Sufferlandrian path is physical and painful, while also stressful and draining- but the application of its tools is unlimited.
It’s not for naught that the motto of Sufferlandria is I Will By My Ass Today To Kick Yours Tomorrow (IWBMATTKYT). In other words, I will be prepared, no matter what.
Ok. Rewind to that meltdown. There I was, deep in Couchlandria, almost indistinguishable from the common folk (bearing the fact that the majority of the living room space is taken by the newly corner-stoned Torture Chamber. Not functional as of yet, but we’re getting there.)
I’m sitting in my car, engine running, AC on, occupying a spot in a large supermarket parking lot. Grey dominates the skies, and the vast paved surface stretching away.
I’m sobbing into my facemask, each thought unbearable to the point of despair. Cognitive capacity suddenly absent. All I can do is only just gather myself and make it home, whereupon I completely turn off my phone and computers, lock the doors, and disappear. Physically and mentally incapacitated.
I emerge roughly 36 hours later, deeply scarred emotionally and in obvious need of help.
I will not drill down into the exact trigger of this meltdown, yet the accumulating stress and circumstances noted prior are the primary contributors. What exactly happened at home doesn’t really matter either, nothing too exciting I’m sorry to say.
I realized I simply could not deal with stress, in its broad meaning, because I’ve forgotten how to suffer. I was no longer in control.
I could not let this happen again - it’s far too devastating on nearly all fronts.
Of course, there are countless forms, as are manifestations of Suffering, Pain, Misery, and Agony.
My Revelation, in light of this discovery, is, in the words of Aenea: Choose Again.
How will you choose to Suffer?
The Couchlandrian way is Comfort. Keeping yourself comfortable, snacking on the couch, binge-watching shows and other horrendous acts of self-mutilation involving donuts and - I can’t go on.
Anyway, with Suffering being constant, in one form or another, the Couchlandrian seeks Comfort as resistance.
It eases the pain, numbs the nerves, calms the thoughts and body, and pretty much works great - if a Couchlandrian is what you are or want to become.
The Couchlandrian tendencies are highly contagious and easily rival the traction of a sticky bidon any day. Be warned.
But there is no order, no purpose in this path of Suffering.
It is wasted Suffering and only numbs the minds of the Couchlandrians. They become slaves to their consumption of goods, services, and Entertainment.
Purposeless, wasted, suffering, in a vicious circle.
The Sufferlandrian, on the other hand, chooses to suffer to deal with Suffering. He has an ace up his sleeve. The Sufferlandrian devilishly undergoes rigorous sessions of self-imposed physical and mental torture daily.
He is ready for anything life can throw at him. Nothing can be as hard as those sessions.
He has his routine all planned out; he knows exactly where he’s heading.
The Sufferlandrian has his nutrition in check, sleep patterns are stable, daily agenda all buttoned up. The SUF Regime demands it. He suffers to counter the Suffering.
So both Couchlandrian and Sufferlandrian choose their way. Couchlandrians choose Comfort to ease the Suffering, while the Sufferlandrians choose physical and mental training.
The way of Comfort is without purpose. It has no “why,” and therefore, upon confronting his pains, the Couchlandrian will have nothing to stand upon and fail eternally. He has no tools to deal with his suffering but the distracting Comfort and Entertainment.
The Sufferlandrian has chosen his own Suffering and, therefore, rather masochistically, enjoys it.
He knows why he’s doing it. His Why is a bottomless well of Bravery, Strength, Dedication, Commitment, and Certainty.
To the Sufferlandrian, who has a new definition of Suffering, what the common Couchlandrian deals with is part of the plan.
Simply put, the Sufferlandrian way trains one to master body and mind when dealing with Suffering, in any form it comes.
The Sufferlandrian path is physical and painful, while also stressful and draining- but the application of its tools is unlimited.
It’s not for naught that the motto of Sufferlandria is I Will By My Ass Today To Kick Yours Tomorrow (IWBMATTKYT). In other words, I will be prepared, no matter what.
Ok. Rewind to that meltdown. There I was, deep in Couchlandria, almost indistinguishable from the common folk (bearing the fact that the majority of the living room space is taken by the newly corner-stoned Torture Chamber. Not functional as of yet, but we’re getting there.)
I’m sitting in my car, engine running, AC on, occupying a spot in a large supermarket parking lot. Grey dominates the skies, and the vast paved surface stretching away.
I’m sobbing into my facemask, each thought unbearable to the point of despair. Cognitive capacity suddenly absent. All I can do is only just gather myself and make it home, whereupon I completely turn off my phone and computers, lock the doors, and disappear. Physically and mentally incapacitated.
I emerge roughly 36 hours later, deeply scarred emotionally and in obvious need of help.
I will not drill down into the exact trigger of this meltdown, yet the accumulating stress and circumstances noted prior are the primary contributors. What exactly happened at home doesn’t really matter either, nothing too exciting I’m sorry to say.
I realized I simply could not deal with stress, in its broad meaning, because I’ve forgotten how to suffer. I was no longer in control.
I could not let this happen again - it’s far too devastating on nearly all fronts.
With that realization, I had found my Why, but it was not apparent until relatively recently.
I had lost control. There was no purpose, no plan, nothing to do or avoid, no ability to endure difficulty whatsoever either. I was unprepared and unable to handle the natural force of Suffering.
I had to get back on track, and there is only one way that I know how to do that: Choose Again. Return to Sufferlandria.
Infantile, I know. But putting myself in a physical training regime is my cure. I’ve known it all along too, which is a prime reason for delaying my return. You see, I know exactly what Sufferlandria is like. I’ve been through it all. I’ve bled from my eyes.
I know precisely what I’m heading into. I know the extraordinary strength, endurance, sacrifice, single-mindedness, and mental fortitude necessary to even stand a chance at seeing a shadow of my former form and self.
It’s a tough choice to make.
But I also know I’ll be in control of my body, my mind, and my time. That transcends anything anyone can throw at me. That is my Why.
I had lost control. There was no purpose, no plan, nothing to do or avoid, no ability to endure difficulty whatsoever either. I was unprepared and unable to handle the natural force of Suffering.
I had to get back on track, and there is only one way that I know how to do that: Choose Again. Return to Sufferlandria.
Infantile, I know. But putting myself in a physical training regime is my cure. I’ve known it all along too, which is a prime reason for delaying my return. You see, I know exactly what Sufferlandria is like. I’ve been through it all. I’ve bled from my eyes.
I know precisely what I’m heading into. I know the extraordinary strength, endurance, sacrifice, single-mindedness, and mental fortitude necessary to even stand a chance at seeing a shadow of my former form and self.
It’s a tough choice to make.
But I also know I’ll be in control of my body, my mind, and my time. That transcends anything anyone can throw at me. That is my Why.
The next communique will be approved for release only after I undergo a Full Frontal 4DP Test to assess the magnitude of the damage sustained in Couchlandrian captivity.
In it, I expect to detail the test results and the recovery program I must undergo, for the Tour Of Sufferlandria looms near.
Know your Why, and act accordingly, please.
See you at the Castle.
In it, I expect to detail the test results and the recovery program I must undergo, for the Tour Of Sufferlandria looms near.
Know your Why, and act accordingly, please.
See you at the Castle.
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