It seems to be an uncanny valley of sorts. I experienced quite a similar feeling of revulsion -- not because the author was so different from me but rather the

It seems to be an uncanny valley of sorts. I experienced quite a similar feeling of revulsion -- not because the author was so different from me but rather the opposite. You want to see her pull away but instead you see a slow motion train-wreck, and the triumph of the chthonic depths of the subconscious over the generally relieving, agency imbuing aspects of rationality. To read something like this as a human being (if you can at all relate) is thoroughly rattling. How close are any of us to sinking into such "base" forms of self-flagellation? Base and yet thoroughly universal. It is very uncomfortable, especially if you are no longer in such a state but vividly remember being in the throes of it. I won't lie, it almost resembles the way others describe having recovered from drug addiction.