I should be working. Instead I’m lying in bed, wallowing in my despair. I need to work because…? I remember, I need money to survive. And I need to survive because…? The answer to that one is fucking complicated.
Why would killing myself not be the reasonable choice? I’m alone. I spend each day and each night alone. And I’m likely to always be alone, to some extent. Even if I somehow made a lot of money, and sorted out all the material issues in my life, I’d still be left with the chronic inability to connect to other people. Even if I’m with someone, I’ll be alone on the inside. I crave company, but I can’t stand it. I can’t relax around others, or trust them. People are a threat, if not physically, then to my fragile sense of self. I have starved myself of all human intimacy or touch.
Killing myself would devastate my family (my parents & sister). I only see them once a week, at most. But they’re still far too emotionally invested. I can definitely see it triggering the kind of depression and despair in them that I feel, ruining whatever remains of their lives. And it could have knock-on consequences for the next generation (my nephew, who needs his mother to not be a depressed wreck.)
There are circumstances where I wouldn’t take their wellbeing into consideration. If my past ever catches up with me, and I’m faced with the consequences, it seems reasonable to off myself regardless. But without that kind of catastrophic trigger, I’m left undecided. I care about them, but I don’t know if I care enough to live for them.
I’m miserable and hopeless, but I don’t know if I’m miserable and hopeless enough to justify wrecking other people’s lives… maybe not.
But then that leaves me with the need to survive. To make a living. Despite my depression, isolation, fatigue, hopelessness, despair. I need to pull my broken carcass out of bed and focus my mind on the mundane tasks people will pay me to perform. When all I want to do is curl up in a ball and escape into a dream where I don’t feel this anymore.
6 comments
This perfectly sums up the great contradiction. We crave connections, but we’re incapable. Any attempt ends in a deeper rift which further isolates us. Repeat a few times and you’re totally screwed.
It’s sorta like the metaphor of Edward Scissorhands. He craves human company but his appearance and sharp hands end up terrifying & hurting everyone so he’s destined to be alone.
The suicide question is another contradiction that has no answer. We’re born into a web of responsibility whether we like it or not. From day 0 we’re obligated to survive so we won’t hurt the family structure that’s already in place around us. But what if all we want is death? Is suicide selfish? In a sense yes, though it’s not our fault we were born carrying the weight of others. Maybe that’s another reason why we fear connections: more people we’ll end up hurting when we die. So… it’s back to solitude… take all the pain ourselves. Limit the collateral damage of an existence we never asked for.
I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt anyone through trying to seek connection, but I also can’t take feeling this alone. I don’t think I could be any more isolated than I am right now. So I think I have to be able to tell myself that at some point in the future there’s some possibility of some level of intimacy, even if it’s unrealistic. I need that. I need to be held, to feel comfortable in the company of another human being. It’s a need I’ve ignored most of my life, but it’s what I wake up and go to sleep with, and it’s only growing stronger as I get older.
I do think there’s a level of pain that overrides obligations to others. But I don’t think I’m there yet. Though it’s so hard to assess. I’m not in screaming agony. I’m just physically uncomfortable most of the time, sad, hopeless & tired most of the time. My life on its own definitely doesn’t seem worth living. But weighed against the wellbeing of my family… it’s hard to say. I think if a rational outsider was to consider it, they might say I had an obligation to keep going, at least for the time-being. But it’s hard to translate that conclusion into the effort that’s actually required to do what’s necessary to survive.
Yea the need for a connection is real. I don’t think anyone is truly a lone wolf by choice. Given the chance at a meaningful connection who wouldn’t jump at it?
I do think we’re pumped full of unreal expectations about soulmates and true love and all that. I’d be happy with a small group of loyal friends who hang out on weekends. When I grab for more (romantic attachments) that’s when things get messy. It’s kinda like the tv show Friends, I thought it was great when they were friends, but once they started pairing up & having babies the show got really irritating. Maybe I’m projecting lol
A few people do seem perfectly content in their isolation, but I think it probably requires a very unusual mindset.
I agree about the unrealistic expectations, but I think I need the hope of some kind of romantic attachment, even if it’s not something that lasts, & even if it were to get really messy. I think a group of friends would help me a lot, but there’s a level of affection you just don’t get there (especially as a guy), which I think I need. I can count the number of times I hugged a friend (back when I still had some) on one hand.
From what I remember of Friends, most of the plot was driven by romantic tension. A lot of the best humour happened along the way, but I suppose you can’t maintain the “will they won’t they” thing indefinitely.
“I should be working”, man you and me both. I guess I’ll give you the advice I wish I knew how to take; it’s worth taking the time to self repair if it leads to greater efficiency in the future. Your recovery is the work you should be doing, probably.
*shrug*, too much zen and meditation has taught me that the correct response to something beyond your control is to bring it under your control. Isolation sucks, but people do survive it. If it really isn’t avoidable, then it’s a waste of energy trying to fix it. Not suggesting it’s easy, but it is something you can control.
That question about when your pain is sufficient to justify hurting others, I think about it a lot. I think that IF my life was as it is now and I had some sort of terminal or degenerative illness, I could end it relatively guilt free. There’s definitely an amount of pain that equates to exit being a reasonable choice.
It’s cultural though, we generally consider physical illness enough, but mental illness, I don’t know if there is anything sufficiently painful in that way. Probably not, but what are you going to do? That’s my thing, eventually the possibilities collapse, and when they do to the point I can’t put them back together, I’m going to die, and I’m certain enough of that to be patient and wait for it.
That’s great advice for people at a certain level. I’ve taken way too much time out of the workforce already, and I need to keep a roof over my head. I also don’t see any hope of recovery. So I need to effectively bully my mind into doing what’s necessary.
I am surviving isolation. But it’s making me miserable, and sapping my will to do what’s necessary to keep surviving. I’m not sure how avoidable it is. Any hope of even reducing it feels so far in the future.
I agree about degenerative illness. I think my family would be understanding if I chose to end it under those circumstances (I might even tell them beforehand.) I don’t think then suicide would carry the same shock or sting to it.
Yeah, mental illness is hard to quantify. I do think there are people in greater pain than me, but I don’t know how you’d assess that. Maybe if you’re never able to think about anything else, even for a minute. Like I’m never able to really relax and fully enjoy something in the way I used to, but I can still distract myself to some extent. I can still appreciate music, or learning new things. If you had no capacity whatsoever for that stuff, and were just left with the full weight of your despair 24/7, I think ending it would be justifiable. But I don’t know where the line would be.