I have a virus in my mind. If I could just let it go, then things would be so much easier. But I can’t seem to. A part of my brain is fixated on pointless unhealthy delusions. It’s almost a religious conviction at this point. If I could just have these impossible things, then everything would be ok. Land of milk and honey. But I can’t. And it wouldn’t.
But knowing that rationally doesn’t change how I feel. It’s been over 13 years now, and I’m still fixated on this shit. No matter what I do to distract myself or focus on other things, I always get pulled back to it. It’s at my core.
Like I said, it’s a religion. There’s no rationality there. No evidence. In fact there’s a whole bunch of contrary evidence showing that it would be a really bad idea to go down that road. And yet I somehow ‘know’ that it would make life meaningful again. Even though it wouldn’t. It would make everything worse.
I am addicted to a fantasy. An idea. A really bad idea. And no matter how much I reason with myself, it will not fade. I torment myself over it. I both hate myself for it and love it simultaneously.
It’s ridiculous how someone could become so twisted up in themselves. Freud would honestly have a field day.
I should kill myself, morally speaking. It would be the honorable thing to do. I’m far too corrupted to ever be able to live any kind of decent life. But I doubt I’d ever do it. My sick brain is far too attached to tormenting itself.