i really want to die. i am done making things up. why cant he see that it would be so much easier to just make something up that sounds believable so we could stop fighting? i know it sounds hard to believe because it seems too good to be true. i dont know what to do. what can i do? why cant he see that not making something up at this point to stop fighting is doing more harm to me than good? i cant do this. i dont know what to do. i really just feel like dying. he is completely ignoring the facts because he is upset. i have no idea what to do. it is completely my fault and i dont know how to fix it. but making something up now will not help me. and i cant go back to making things up. it will further destroy our relationship. i just want to go to sleep. i hate my life so much. i hate who i used to be. i completely ruined my life. i ruined everything. and i hurt and betrayed the only person i care about. i never wanted to hurt him. i hate myself. i hate who i used to be. and theres nothing i can do about it. i thought if i showed him im not that person anymore and i am completely devoted to him and everything he asks and wants that i could make it better and show him that there is nothing to worry about now. i hate fighting more than anything. it would be so much easier to make something up, BUT I KNOW THAT IS NOT GOING TO SOLVE ANYTHING AND THEN IM BACK AT SQUARE ONE! I CANT TAKE A STEP BACK! I WILL NEVER LEARN IF I DO THAT. im going to die. i dont know what to do. what the hell can i do to fix this?
2 comments
2 comments
“why cant he see that it would be so much easier to just make something up that sounds believable so we could stop fighting?”
Okay then make something up, a fiction that is your truth, and live by it.
If all purposes in life are fictions, why is this necessarily considered negative? For example, read the Wikipedia definition of Existential Nihilism. The human mind/brain functions in terms of intentions and goals and projects these onto the universe (teleology) or a being (religion). Or we create a story to weave together the fragments of our memory and–from the perspective of viewing ourselves as a static identity called a person–we call this our fate or that the events we remember happened for a reason. What does it matter that the reason is a fiction if it serves the purpose of giving meaning and order to our lives so we are not such miserable creatures?
no im sorry i cant do that. for two reasons. i dont lie anymore because i care about him and because any time ive lied in the past, even if it helped in that moment, it has always come back to bite me. it has always blown up in my face. no matter what it was, big or small. i cant do that anymore. i decided a while ago i couldn’t do it. i really just need to die.