I’ll be honest. Despite the secretions rolling down my face at the moment, I’m actually pretty attractive, I’m nice to people, nice to animals. Good with food, art, music, kids, whatever. I feel I’m terrible for wholly irrational reasons, and I loathe the fact I’m a slave to the broken system that calls itself my mind. I should’ve had a good night tonight, I went out, danced with pretty girls, got some physical contact (not as much as I’d like, but still), and all I can feel is utter contempt for myself, for my worthless “sensitivity” to things. I feel abandoned and manifestly inferior for slight things that I should “man up” and ignore. So why doesn’t it work that way? I’m not sure, I must just be built wrong, and I hate myself for it. I hate the weakness. I hate the irresponsibility. I hate the fact I’m destined to become a bum or a crazy person, I hate the fact I feel physical pain in my guts for being so shitly designed and self-abasing. I hate the fact I cannot live up to my potential because I will always shoot myself in the foot.
I have this inescapable sense that I’m just not meant to be (though I also understand that this is irrational). I fear that if I speak the truth; that I might “infect” the people around me with such feelings or make them behave differently towards me, or gradually tire them out with the tediousness of the whole affair. I certainly wouldn’t have a chance with convincing any girl that I’m worthwhile, I am clearly defective stock and I understand that’s not desirable for making babies. I don’t hold it against them, they’re products of millions of years of evolution.
I hold it against myself, though, because I ought to be able to be pleased that I have a life to live and potentially succeed at things. But I won’t. Because this is a self-fulfilling prophecy. My cause is hopeless because I have already decided it is. When I contend otherwise, it sometimes works, but the defective chemical soup in my brain will dictate I return to this broken situation time and time again.
I want to erase any record of having existed. I want everyone I know to forget about me so I can’t hurt them when I go. The future is not ever going to be better, I’ll never escape myself unless I nullify my experience. “Relief from pain” may be absurd with eternal unconsciousness as the anaesthetic, I won’t get to savour it, but I will cease this terrible worthless, unfulfilling punishment of an existence. How else can you escape your own mind except through its extinction? I can’t work out any better options. Psychology won’t work on me, drugs will kill my personality (peculiar complaint I know, but a living death where I’m a lobotomised robot is far more disgusting than the personal choice to end it). I’m too intelligent to find solace in the easy, fraudulent answers of religion and the thought that I won’t have to deal with myself or anything ever again is a comfort. It even seems honourable, aside from the people I’d hurt, as I’d be the master of my own destiny, instead of a slave to a hurtling bus or cancer cell.
This site has undoubtedly served its purpose. I think I’ve released some mental tension and I’m unlikely to overcome my desire to live, but I still long for the day when I don’t wake up. It seems like an acceptable conclusion and one that’s actually achievable. That’s comforting, because there’s very little in life that’s as certainly achievable, and even less that will successfully keep the desire to end it at bay.
5 comments
Thank you so much for this. I found myself in your words, and I appreciate them.
“I want to erase any record of having existed. I want everyone I know to forget about me so I can’t hurt them when I go.”
This especially, I don’t want to hurt anyone; I’ve done enough of that in my life.
Sorry – I hit submit one thought too soon…
Somehow it seems that I’m afraid to hurt the world as much as it has hurt me. But, my husband has never hurt me, and I know I will hurt him most. I wish I could just take it all back.
You’ve spoken quite a few things I’ve found myself thinking over and over. You write very well and convey your point very clearly–if that means anything to you. I suppose if either of us existed (we’re both just Internet strangers, those aren’t real), we could have been friends. I feel I know you, at least a part of you.
Complete erasure of any record of your existence is noble and poetic. I support you in your undertaking.
…Wow. I just realized how toxic I am. I’m no help at all. Sorry man. Best of luck to you.
I feel the same as you. This morning I woke up with the thought in my mind, “I want to wake up from this nightmare called “LIFE” and discover that I didn’t exist.”
every morning I ask why i had to wake up again. why didn’t just stop breathing in my sleep. it wouldnt have been my fault that way. no one would’ve asked why i did it. you write like I do. I can tell you are very intelligent. Its almost a curse because you can see the logic others cannot. It makes me question the actions of the extreme few i actually care about and it causes me a great deal of confusion when they hurt me for completely unknowable or incomprehensible reasons. i know how you feel and you are a good person for not wanting to hurt others. the only reason i am still around, the only reason i havent done it yet is because those very few i care about, those extreme few i ever had any place for in my heart stressed what i would be doing to them if i did. I don’t want to hurt anyone because I dont want them to feel the pain that i live every second and ending it all, it would make them feel what i feel and I dont wish that on those in my heart. Even though they have and continue to cause me pain only understood by those on this site, I can’t do that to them…I hate being a good person.