Project ‘Make Life Bearable’

  May 4th, 2017 by thehusk

I’m trying to approach this thing from a different perspective. I can’t end my life. Not right now. Even if I’m convinced that I want to. I can’t do that to my family. I just don’t have it in me. That’s the reality. I love them, in my fucked up way, as often as I hate them. Even monsters care about something. So, as long as my parents (and possibly my sister) are alive, I’m probably not going to be able to go through with it. That could be another 20, 30, even 40 years. Unless we fall out and cut contact, it’s likely I’ll be sticking around.

So that leaves me trying to live with myself. To make the best of the huge pit I’ve dug, on top of the normal shit that life throws at everyone. All the negative crap that my mind churns out on an hourly basis – I have to find a way to live with that, without wanting to claw my eyes out.

I’m so sad, and alone, and afraid, and full of regret. I hate myself, I hate the world that created me, I hate what I am.

Addictive/compulsive behaviors can take the edge off. Or sometimes they can make the feelings worse. But at the moment they’re all I have.

Beyond that, there’s nothing. No friends, since putting up a front is exhausting, and the real me is pretty unpleasant. No partner, for the same reasons, and the deception would make me feel even worse. Certainly not going to be raising a family of my own. No reason to spread the misery around.

No career, as I don’t really believe in or care about anything enough to work at it for long enough, and that kind of status means nothing to me if I can’t enjoy it.

A few transitory interests – things I pick up on to temporarily distract myself from my shitty self. Which passes the time I guess. And it seems I’ll have a fair bit of time to kill.

I should sleep more. Spend more time in imaginary realities where my emotions can actually be fulfilled, instead of just causing pain. Chill the fuck out. Relax in the sun. Resist the urge to chew off my own arm. Use a punchbag maybe. Go for a run. Avoid jumping out into oncoming traffic. Contain the impulse to cry every time I pass a stranger who doesn’t return my smile. Drink in moderation. Seek validation where none could ever be found. Chew my lip. Bite my nails. Play with the dog. Absorb myself by intricately constructing something that is of no use or meaning to anyone, before destroying it. Do yoga. Obsessively pick over the details of some subject I’ll have forgotten about by tomorrow. Meditate. Loose myself in stories of lives unlike mine. Lives with focus. Suppress the realization that nothing I do will ever be worth a story. Consider trying yet another form of therapy that won’t address the real issue. Avoid making eye contact. Tick tock.

Breathe. Sleep.

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