Taking half my dose and yeah this whole evening I’ve just been slowly dissociating. Coming back to this. The weird part is, some small part of me felt relieved. The world was too fast. I was always getting up and moving around. God and now I’m back to the old me. This is who I feel like I am. I feel so crappy right now. It’s like coming down from a two month high. I’m worn out. I want weed. I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Why did I feel like this was a good idea? If not for fear of sexual dysfunction I wouldn’t keep going. But I can’t feel for shit and I read this can last. I hope to God it gets better. This is going to wreck my relationship. It’s like being locked in a cage. You can see the world outside but you’re trapped. I can feel aroused but I can’t climax.
I am absolutely ravaged today. The roller coaster is hurtling down. But I’m really glad I tried this. It gave me a small window into what life can be. I couldn’t remember a time when I ever felt so easy. I’d forgotten this was possible. And just imagine, normal people feel like that all the time! I finally understand how someone can call life beautiful and not understand suicide. I can’t fathom why people ever complain if that’s the reality they live in. This has given me hope. I think I might make it now that I know what my problem is. Now that I know what my aim should be.
My appetite is returning, and I can take pleasure from food once again. It’s a two sided blade but it made me feel good to enjoy a meal.
I am tired. But tonight is the most coherent I’ve managed to be in weeks. My thinking has slowed down, I can make sense of things again. Maybe that’s good, maybe it’s bad. But this is normal. This is my comfort zone. That’s the hard part. I have my usual attention span now. That makes me feel very valid. Human.
The most relieving part of this is how my thoughts have slowed down. These past few weeks, my head was bursting with every corner of my existence. My mind was racing a mile ahead of my body. It was just too much stimuli. Too fast.
For the reason I came here in the first place, I don’t think I’ll ever part with the idea of suicide. Even at my highest point, I didn’t mind oblivion. I wasn’t certain what I’d do if I had a gun in my hand. But I can say, at my highest, I also didn’t mind the idea of rebirth. I remember thinking how beautiful it would be to become someone new over and over. But at the core of my being, I know the peace nothingness will bring me is unparalleled. And I have absolutely no misgivings about receiving it at any given point. Just to not exist.
It felt calming to write. Like I’ve achieved a place between the highs and lows. But unfortunately I can’t escape the real world forever. This illness really gives you a strange perspective. I’ve never met a depressed person that wasn’t escapist. Suicide isn’t the only out it’s just the final one.
When I’m in this place, I feel alone. Alienated from everybody else walking around. I have no real wants except for escape. I’d like to escape my physical environment. Move somewhere new. That’s why I move so much. But I’ve found that doesn’t work. I need an entire escape. Not just from whatever place on the map, but from every day. The people around me. The world we’ve built. The stores I shop in. The meaningless work I do in order to shop in those stores. I need to be in a different reality. Think about rain and how it will affect me. Walk in the sun all by myself, somewhere real. Where the world is real. Where everything you do matters. I want to concern myself with more than ledgers and profits. I want the weather to make or break my day. I want a hot meal to make me the happiest woman alive. Simplicity.
There’s a pyramid of needs that some psychologist devised, I forget who. The theory goes that you can’t be concerned with needs higher up before you fulfill the ones below them. Well at the bottom there’s what you’d expect, food, shelter clothing. Then there’s safety. Then commmunity. Love and belonging. Then self respect. And last self actualization. I feel like most of us are born somewhere ahead of the start line. The unlucky ones lower down, and the luckier ones higher. But that kind of creates a disconnect with us in ourselves. How can you appreciate where you are if you’ve never experienced the relief of fulfilling your basic needs? The simpler ones? How tiring is it to forever attempt to fulfill some greater purpose, some higher goal than the most crucial ones? I just don’t know what it’s like to be alive. I can’t appreciate life because I’ve never worked to keep mine. Maybe that’s what I need to fix this hole in myself. To feel the accomplishment of achieving the most simple things. To think about life in different terms than money. I haven’t felt like this in many years. The last time I wanted this so bad was the early years of my depression. This feels like hope. Or maybe a worn cycle doomed to spin a ful circle again.
Sometimes I wonder at this from an evolutionary point of view. There’s no doubt about it, there are millions of people thinking about offing themselves. That kind of defeats the purpose of biological life. It’s like one big kick in the face to every evolutionary instinct ever developed. So maybe all these suicidal people are just another of evolution’s randomizations that is going to fail and die out in greater populations. Or maybe it’s the brilliant evolutionary answer to population control. Are we only suffering to be failed experiments? Or is there a greater ploy? I don’t know, both arguments make me feel outdated. Invalid. History.
Well, this has gone on too long.