and any other positive feelings. Not because I dislike positive emotions, but because I know they will not last long. And once they are over, you’re off even worse than before. It’s like life is constantly trying to show me how happy I could be only to smash all these hopes on the next occasion. I know the same thing is used in sleep deprivation where they let a subject get close to falling asleep only to wake him up with a slap in the face. It’s torture and forbidden with good reason.
My brain is naive enough to fall for the trick every single time. Even though I should know that the same thing is going to happen again, I actually believe this time everything is going to change. And that makes it even worse when I realize I fooled myself again. That’s just pure stupidity, and I know it. But next time – I promise you – will be different. It’s totally different from all the other times before, I should really get all my hopes up because next time I’m not going to fail!
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I try telling myself that at least i had pleasant moments instead of never experiencing them. But that doesn’t really help. No matter how depressed or cynical, i keep falling for it too. Over and over again, despite knowing better.
I know how you feel. Every time I failed and everything turned to hell I’d fall into this hole and think I wouldn’t be able to get up again. But I would and though I would grow less and less optimistic and enthusiastic everytime it happened, I kept having hope. But I think this is finally it for me. I don’t think I can get up this time, I know that there is no way I can actually manage to live a normal, happy life (or even just normal for that matter). The only problem is my parents don’t see that and keep trying to get me “well” again. I used to be a real daddy’s girl, but now I’ve grown to resent him, because every time he tries to put me a comforting hand on my shoulder or head or hug me or even just talk me into trying again (which is everyday) I just feel like there is a lead weight settling on me. Funnily enough, my mom, who used hugs me much more rarely doesn’t really bother me as much, maybe because she’s only trying to draw comfort, not offer it (it used to be harder to stomach before). And I can’t even try to convince them it’s useless, because then they might realize I’m thinking about suicide and would do all they can to stop it.
Anyway, point is, maybe while you still feel like it might get better there still is a chance. These days the only way I can feel some semblance of good feelings is when I completely cut myself of from the world and my problems, even though it’s less than a shadow of real happiness.
Hey, can I email you?
Sure, it’s hechatis@gmail.com.