There’s this part of me that longs to let go of being this twisted thing. And it seems like dying is the only way to do that. To cease being this failed creature and return my matter to the planet, so it can be part of something less repulsive.
But death seems terrifying. The end of all possibilities, all attachments. Every abandoned dream, every lost hope, every unfulfilled desire. Finally nullified beyond doubt.
So I sit in this misery I’ve created for myself. And every year it feels worse. And I tell myself I’ll try things to change it. And I do try a little, ever so cautiously. I read, and I listen, and I ask for help, so it seems less scary. But will it ever turn into anything real? Real change? Real action? So I’m finally free of being this? Seems doubtful.
Maybe next week I’ll take a tiny step. Maybe. In the meantime I’ll continue to sit in this misery.
8 comments
You put my feelings into words what I couldn’t. indulging in your own misery is very tricky, it makes it so much harder to reach out and for someone to sympathise with your situation. I don’t know if anyone will ever sympathise with my numbing routine, it is just so strange that i would passively destroy myself. I don’t think about it until annual events like my birthday
True, it’s very difficult to see the lifestyle of a depressed person from the outside and not want to distance yourself.
As articulate as ever. Can I make a small suggestion my friend? Your particular brand of writing is captivating and effective. You have serious talent in describing the real meat of this…feeling. You should write a book or start an anonymous blog using a vpn to protect yourself of course. But I would hate to see you waste your talented writing style. Just a thought.
I guess all i’m trying to say is it would be really nice to see you put your talented writing skills towards something you care about. The world will still need things like that long after my departure. So don’t give up yet. It would be a waste of talent.
I appreciate you saying that, and it is something I’ve considered before. It’s difficult to know how to put whatever ability I have to use. I don’t think I can really write fiction – I don’t have the varied life experience or social understanding to create interesting characters. And I don’t think I really have anything meaningful to say that anyone wants to hear – with the possible exception of fellow depressed people.
I can only really articulate my own niche experience – and it’s probably not beneficial for anyone to dwell too much on that. Though I think there are things I might like to say, if ever I could maintain clarity of thought for long enough.
You don’t need to write fiction, just write honestly. If you wrote out your life story and how it brought you to this point now, nobody has to know that you’re telling the truth. Your passion in your words can imply that without explicitly spelling it out. Don’t sell yourself short.
Who knows maybe it could be a book to help others.
I keep saying it; there’s always breaking yourself. I mean, if you’re welcoming pain, enough of it and who you were won’t be anymore. Drugs can help, but it’s mostly pain and extreme emotions that do the trick. Maybe a dash of trauma, but under supervision. That’s why people are attracted to cults.
Now am I advocating joining a cult? Hmmmm, over death, yes. Anything that keeps you breathing is preferable to not. And mind, I’m fairly suicide friendly right now. But attend to the goal you are trying to achieve;
Freedom. Specifically you want to be free from the self that you despise. So kill THAT self. Put it in a world in which it can’t survive. Starve it of whatever sustanence it needs, because everything needs something to prop itself up, including nasty personality traits.
I’d rather be no one than someone I hate, that’s my take. That’s an option, some people have that little to set them apart, they just immitate others. However, I have a rich library of strange obscure men to immitate and draw from. So when I killed off who I was, there wasn’t much gap.
The secret is awfulness, just the most awful things you can learn about, the worst humanity is capable of, then you identify with the victims, behold a never ending well of pain. You are welcome my friend, behold your ticket to freedom, if you are willing to take it. Let me know if you need any more tips.