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so I guess we’re all stuck here

by specialape

There’s a world of a difference between not wanting to be alive and wanting to die and wanting to kill yourself. I spend my days oscillating between the first two. My heart goes out to those who actually do want to kill themselves. I couldn’t imagine harbouring something that intense every day. There’s something so inherently violent in it, so shocking and silencing.

I don’t really hate myself that much, honestly. I can’t hate myself that much, because I still think I’m better than most everybody else. As much as I find it hard to find a point to my life, I wouldn’t wish to have anybody else’s life because I know it’ll be harder still to find a purpose to theirs. There’s nothing wrong with me as a person, despite what others might think, there’s just something wrong with the way I see things. It’s like there’s something missing in my brain. I can’t ever be truly satisfied. Nothing ever hits the mark. I don’t want for anything because I know nothing will please me. Life is just a bunch of distractions before you die, and while other people might be able to fully immerse themselves in their distractions, I just… don’t have that ability. One eye’s on what’s in front of me, the other’s on the ever-ticking clock. I’m all too aware.

I mean, let’s get this straight. I’m alive cause my parents had sex. I just hope they had a good fuckin’ time. Now, I’m just meant to live out my days. Nature probably intended me to have sex and produce some more offspring who could do the same and on and on. Fat chance. I’d drive a stake through my womb before propagating this disease. That, and I can’t imagine ever forming a real connection with anyone. Even if you take the shit social skills out of the equation, there’s just something missing. And what else is there to do? To avoid the mind numbing boredom of existence in between, we’ve got our little reward pathways, a sure fire way to keep us coming back drinking the kool-aid. But there’s something fucked up with mine. I canny be arsed. That’s it. That’s the crux of my existence. What’s the point? They forgot to slip the opium in mine. None of this is fucking fun. None of this keeps me coming back for more. I’m so fucking bored. There’s nothing in it for me. I won’t kill myself, cause I don’t want to shatter the illusion for everyone else. I’ll just live counting down the seconds in my head.

At some point we’ll all die out and we will never be remembered. It’ll be like none of this ever happened. We witness and we give meaning. Without us, all the sins of the world and all the joys shall be nullified. It will never have happened. Say goodbye to fuckin’ disneyland and subway stations and the Sahara desert. Nobody shall remember that hitler was a very bad man and nobody shall remember the way you cry yourself to sleep sometimes and nobody shall remember how the sun makes the whole world glitter like something else sometimes. It simply never happened.

So if that doesn’t matter, what does matter is what you feel and think right now because your hearts still beating and you can still make sense of what’s around you, imbue it with meaning. But I’m so fucking shit at that. That’s all I really wanted to say. All I’m here for is a good time and I’m failing miserably.

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thehusk 7/1/2020 - 6:21 pm

Hesitant to recommend this, but have you tried drugs/medication? Perhaps there is actually something chemically lacking in your brain that could use a top up? Anhedonia seems to be linked to dopamine receptor damage. Maybe that’s what’s denying you those feel good moments?

Also that last line sounds familiar. Is it a quote from something?

specialape 7/1/2020 - 9:11 pm

I wrote that as a sort of angry last resort rant after getting off the phone with a GP. He offered sertraline, and though I tried it for two weeks back in march, I don’t really see how it could help my situation. I mean, it doesn’t help anhedonia, does it? I brought up ADD cause maybe that’s why I just can’t get into anything enough to accept life, and it’s linked to dopamine deficiency, but the arsehole just brushed me aside. I’m supposed to wait for a psychiatrist referral, but the world could freeze over before that ever had a chance of coming. Fuck ’em, I’ll just be miserable for the rest of my life and nobody can stop me.

But I don’t know man. I don’t know if I actually have a problem or if I just think I do and feel accordingly. It’s not that I never feel good, it’s just that it’s never enough for me. It’s all lukewarm. If I didn’t think at all perhaps I’d be fine. Maybe my standards are too high or I’ve got too much of an imagination that reality can never live up to or maybe I grew up on hollywood films and I’m disappointed I never got to teepee a house or ride in the back of a pickup truck with my arms outstretched under the stars and now my brain’s being a stubborn ***** ‘nO! you never gave me any of that when I wanted it so now I refuse to give YOU anything!’ . But shit, even in my imagination, my wildest fantasies, I find it hard to accept that love, money, fame, a career, friends etc might make me content. I’m just as fucked up in the head, only insanely more attractive, more talented and world famous. Maybe I just want the whole world to witness my suffering as if that would give it some meaning, maybe I’ve got a crazy idea up in my head I’m modern day Jesus strung up on a cross repenting for the sins of nihilism and apathy, maybe I’m just a hopeless fatalistic loser starving for admiration.
I don’t think it’s a quote? I mean I didn’t copy it from anywhere but who knows, there’s so many people alive right now we’re bound to say the same things sometimes.

thehusk 7/1/2020 - 11:23 pm

I think Serotonin levels might be linked to feelings of satisfaction – so it’s possible SSRIs might be helpful. But it depends how desperate you are, and I guess there are risks with any drugs. If you think the issue is more with your ability to feel ‘satisfied’ with something, rather than your ability to feel pleasure (which would be more of a dopamine thing.)

Is there a difference between thinking you have a problem and having a problem? Unless it’s an external threat, it’s in your head (which doesn’t make it fake.) I think a lot of people could relate to having unrealistic expectations from the media they consumed. Maybe contentment isn’t something you can pursue in a goal-orientated manner, but something that just comes in the right circumstances to those lucky enough to be open to it? Or perhaps no one is really content, and even the most Zen-like monk is just putting on a show? I don’t think we’re made to feel anything is ‘enough’. Genetic advantage is always just beyond that next horizon.

Perhaps it’s a generational thing – hedonistic crisis as the spirit of the times.

specialape 7/2/2020 - 5:03 pm

Ahh I’m not really sure what my issue actually is? Like it feels pretty damn good drinking cold water on a hot day, and I wouldn’t mind going for a walk in the fields sometimes, and driving fast with the windows down feels awesome, it’s just the more, I don’t know, social? modern day life? things I have a problem with. Like, ever since the lockdown I’ve been salivating at the prospect of going out to the shops again, but I went out today and it didn’t feel special at all. It wouldn’t have made a difference if I stayed in or went out. Or getting accepted into the uni I’d dreamed of going to as a child- I thought it would feel euphoric, but it just felt like any other day. I get so jealous seeing anyone hanging out with their friends, but I can’t forget that when it was ME hanging out with my friends, I felt as dull and bored as I always do. It’s like building up to an orgasm but never climaxing, I guess. And I mean, that’s alright on a day to day basis, but you get fed up after a while. If I look back and see a ghost town of a life, events with no real feelings associated, or if I look forward and see that bland monotony stretch out for what feels like eternity, that’s when I become real agitated and sort of suicidal.

Hmm yeah I agree that you can’t really pursue contentment as such, and we’re not really meant to be in a state of happiness all the time. But it’s like most people get their dose of happiness every so often, and that’s what keeps them going, keeps them hungry for more. But I’m just running after the image of THEIR happiness, how they look when they’re happy, cause my own experience is underwhelming. I wish I could go inside someone’s head and see what’s really going on behind the smile. IS IT REAL MAN IS IT REAL?? Are yous all just acting like how you think you should be acting in this situation? Actually yeah maybe you’re right, I mean how many people take those diet pills thinking being skinny’s gonna make everything alright again, or obsess over their carefully pruned instagram pages as if looking the part basically guarantees the real thing? But if I’m gonna drop the act, I want everyone else to too, y’know?

Yeah I guess it could just be a generational thing too. While everyone else can go out every friday night with their mates and party in the face of their overwhelming alienation, I’m stuck alone in my room figuring out a way to unite my understanding of life with my actual experience, and getting frustrated when it’s no fun. Then again, nobody living MY life would say it’s any fun. Don’t know it that’s the cause or a symptom of the problem though.

thehusk 7/2/2020 - 7:25 pm

That’s interesting that the things you anticipate bringing you satisfaction don’t seem to. Perhaps you do have these preconceived ideas of what life should be that don’t link up to who you really are, and it’s a matter of dropping them and finding what actually feels meaningful? It sounds like you’re still pretty young, so you’ve got plenty of time to figure out who you are by trial and error.

You’re right that you’d expect to get at least a dose of satisfaction/sense of achievement/moment of peace before the restlessness sets in again. If no one ever experienced a payoff then they wouldn’t do anything. It could be a chemical issue – or just that the things you’re pursuing aren’t really meaningful to you deep down?

People are different too. Some think about things on a far deeper level than others. I don’t think it has to be a problem, if you can find your own way through.

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