I can’t keep anything straight in my mind for more than a few hours. I don’t want to die. But I don’t know how to live with myself. It’s been over 10 years now, and I’ve only made it worse. It’s like this festering wound that I made in my mind, and I can’t stop picking at it. And every time I do I dig it a little deeper.
But scratching it is the only thing that really feels good anymore. Resisting it just leaves me feeling utterly empty. Resisting it means acknowledging the reality, and I don’t know how to do that. Because the reality just sucks all the meaning out of my life. I’ll do anything to avoid thinking about it. It leaves me feeling so completely alone, and empty, and pointless. I don’t want to live in that reality, where that’s who I am.
I can’t live a balanced or productive life. I can’t be mindful, or present in the moment. I can’t be healthy. Because that would mean seeing reality clearly. And doing so makes me want to end it. So the only way to survive is to run. To pretend I’m getting help, and trying to change, while escaping into a fantasy world where everything is totally fine, and reinforcing my dysfunction over and over.
I wish I hadn’t been who I am. I wish I’d never let myself get this way. But now that I have, I just can’t face it. I shouldn’t exist, but I’m not ready to let go yet. And the only way to cope with that knowledge is further reinforcing the dysfunction.