Clearing up

I still can't nail it. Something about achieving what we expect. The fulfilment of possibilties individuals disallow themselves. Post Christmas truculence causes me to lash out in an attempt to undermine myself. Guilt is the backdrop. Guilt the feeling that undermines a,ny progress. Expectation affects everyone. Walking through London you see people from all backgrounds from all over the planet. Getting on. Leaving their pasts behind. Disproving my theories of fatalism.
Why should success feel such a betrayal? Everyone wants it for you. When I go home old freinds and family take reflected pride in my career. They all want good for me.
Yet something stutters. Something in me seeks self sabotage. Almost a call of duty to fuck things up. To go out of my way to offend those who hold my progress in their hands. Success becomes failure. Each win feels a loss. You can't take everyone to the party so your hands smash up the plates, throw their food on the carpet a d steal silver cutlery.
Perhaps this is the biggest barrier to achievement. Not class or sex or race. The restraints come from within. I look back  at the smouldering aftermath of crash after crash.
I have tried to explain these barriers I see, and I have been told that they are not there. That I see ghosts. Illusions.
We set little alarms. I must remember to... These markers set by pulses of neurotransmitters, adrenalin and others. So you get a feeling of joy or guilt to mark your patterns. Guilt is a powerful marker. It would be too slow to negotiate the world through reasoning each obstacle so every object, every new experience is marked good, bad or whatever, tagged with an emotional marker, labelled with how we feel about it. r. From here we dont need to thignk, we just react to things. Our journey a forest of trees, each inspiring differing emotional reactions. Days are spent dancing amongst these mental markers. I know there is something I really must do but i can't remember what. It is essential that I .... or everything will go wrong. A forest of these guilt markers set out to steer our correct passage but the translation is lost. Only the pulses of neurotransmitters remains, no rational for the feelings. Just a thousand impulses.
And it is our impulsive reactions that define us. Not how we rationalise. A racist may know in the cold steady light of reason that their prejudices are wrong but this is too late, for they have already reacted. No one, hardl, y believes they are raccsist, or sexist, or classist. These traits exist despite their best efforts. This is true for criminal culpability too. No one ought to be blamed for who they are. Once we accept francis cricks Astonishing hypothesis, that all our thoughts, beliefs and dreams are the result of a complex set of electrical and chemical neuronal activities that we are not party to we become free. Free to accept failings in ourselves and in others.
The ghosts are these somatic markers we all set out. The forest I spoke of. The countless mental markers we steer our way by. People die trying to fulfill the right paths they have set, knowing these pulses and imposes were set up by themselves to steer the best path for their own survival. But often, by a certain age in our developement we lose all memory of why we had set up our reasoning for our maps. As a child I remember looking at some adults and the tangled mess they had become. The complex networks they had set up for themselves of right and wrong. And now I am one. A child is still in the process of marking the world out, open to suggestion on whether things are good or bad.