My fall is accelerating because I’ve stopped fighting it. Looking back I can see how incredible it is that I kept myself afloat all these years by fighting it. But all it took was to give up for just a short while and already I’m past the point of no return.
People have tried to save me in the past. Exes really tried hard, but they proved to me as well as themselves that when there’s a boulder about to fall you better get out of the way. I’m glad I didn’t ruin their lives, at least I can say that. I’m glad I ghosted everyone, although most people wouldn’t care, there’s always a chance that someone I didn’t expect would be really hurt in the catastrophe.
So there it is. The path is clear. All I’ve got is myself. Funny to realize, all along the problem was me.
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There’s a time for everything, ultimately philosophically you have to do the things you do because they are what you want to do. That’s adulthood for you. That’s what is screwed up with me, motivation. Most of the time, what actually is the point?
Even now, full of meaning though my life appears, is it though? I’m really good at fooling myself, so I doubt even my best moments. Nothing lasts.
I really miss completely meaningless though, it’s been many years since I was totally there myself. Absolute rock bottom is a place of definition…. or it was for me.
I guess I thought I was as close as I could be with the stuff I have now when I was preparing to stay in that status through the summer, right before the change came two weeks ago.