I waste a lot of time and energy pondering whether I should kill myself. I wouldn’t say it’s that I want to, exactly. I’m hugely afraid of death. And my subconscious will to survive, though weaker than average, is still clearly present.
But it strikes me that in my current life suffering predominates. Not in an extreme sense. I have chronic back & stomach issues, but it’s rarely agonizing. Mostly just uncomfortable and irritating. But it’s bad, and it has the potential to get much worse. And is unlikely to get much better. So it doesn’t seem worth enduring, for its own sake. In other words, it would probably be better if I ceased to exist.
The counter to that thought is that it seems likely to totally devastate my family. Who’ve invested a huge amount over the years in trying to help me and provide me with a decent life. And I feel like I should endure a reasonable amount of discomfort to protect them from having to deal with my suicide. Low-level physical pain seems like a price worth paying.
Where it gets confusing is when it comes to the mental stuff. I think I experience longing, craving, regret, dissatisfaction, fear, and despair, far more than the average person. And on the one hand, that’s stuff that I’m doing to myself, right? So it seems like I should be able to just stop. Surely I should just be able to pull myself together, right? But I don’t feel capable. I don’t have that level of mental self-control, to not constantly torment myself.
There’s probably ways I could reduce it, with enough work, over enough time. But I can’t see myself ever getting to even an average level of mental contentment. I can’t really see myself ever being capable of normal relationships, or being able to connect with others. I’m always going to have to deal with being kind of fucked up. Alone, an outsider, a loser. The thought fills me with despair.
And I don’t know if that’s a reasonable sacrifice? To endure being who I am in this world? It doesn’t feel good. The thought of waiting around, kicking my heels year on year, getting older and even more lonely, waiting for my parents to die, just so I don’t hurt them. Except even then that still leaves my sister. And my nephew. Will it ever feel ok to leave them?
I wouldn’t say it’s unfair exactly, because it’s me suffering from the things that my mind does to itself. And like I said, I don’t want to die, so in part it’d just be obeying my natural will to survive.
But it doesn’t feel good. I’m not filled with purpose or resolve at the idea. It feels like a grim obligation I want to find a way out of. That’s why I keep on picking over the same ground again and again. I’m looking for some way out, where I don’t have to feel this way anymore but also don’t have to ruin the lives of those who’ve given so much to try and give me a worthwhile existence.