Most of the time it’s hurting me, and even when it isn’t, the high’s aren’t worth it. I spend a lot of time thinking and talking about giving it up. But when it comes down to it, I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. I’m hopelessly addicted to living. Or to the idea of living. How could I possibly let go of that next sunrise? Those cherished memories and long-dead dreams?
Though I know it won’t be worth it. And I won’t make the most of it. Because I’m broken, and in pain, and most of the time I just want to numb it all away.
Life could’ve so easily been good. Just a few small adjustments to reality. But it isn’t. It’s one long procession of discomfort and decay. But still I won’t let go. Only when it’s far too late, when I’m in constant agony and too crippled to end myself, will I finally be convinced of the need to.
7 comments
Are you actually addicted to life, or just a victim of the biological process? I think what you’re calling an addiction is the phenomenon of “hope springs eternal” that many of us deal with – somehow, someway, things HAVE to improve. Yeah, right. Tomorrow’s going to be better, etc. I think that’s just a survival instinct, and somedays it will prove true, so we become conditioned to the possibility that maybe tomorrow will be the big day.
Its frustrating. Frustrating to not know for sure what to do. I used to drive on a two lane highway to go to work every day, and found myself mentally inviting cars and trucks going in the opposite direction to lose control and swerve into me, but I couldn’t find it in me to just turn my wheel and do the job myself because I’d possibly kill an innocent person. A book I’m reading describes a nuclear explosion that incinerated millions of people as they slept. I couldn’t help but think how fortunate they were, how much I envy them.
I don’t know. It could just be survival instinct. I spend so much of every day thinking ‘I want this to be over.’ But when it actually comes to practical thoughts toward making that happen, my mind is insanely resistant. I don’t want to die, despite being permanently miserable, and rationally convinced things won’t improve, and that it won’t be worth it. Which is a weird headspace to be in – knowing you’re choosing suffering, for no good reason
It is survival instinct. It’s strong. It has to be.
There’s also the mindset of not wanting to die, just not knowing how to live. Not knowing how to live…that’s an all encompassing situation. That’s a *****, when you can’t make the connections needed just to be deemed acceptable by society. That’s me. I missed some sort of socializing and bonding experiences as a child and now have no clue how to have friends or god forbid, love. Anyhow. You’re fighting several things imo. Survival instinct, strong will to (want to know how to) live.
Yeah, that sounds pretty accurate. I don’t know how to live a meaningful life, and I don’t know how to cope with this level of discomfort without some greater meaning to pull me through.
I don’t know if it’s that I was poorly socialized as a child, or just so hypersensitive that I always felt the need to withdraw. But now I’m in the position of being unable to ever relax around others or let anyone in.
You are so right. It really hasn’t been worth it. It has been a complete waste of time.
I’ve found that whenever I try to believe tomorrow will be better, Tomorrow ends up actually being much much much much worse. I don’t know why.
A person can only withstand so many bad tomorrow’s before it takes a toll, wears you down, eats you up.