thehusk

I find it hard to believe this world was created with any kind of benevolent intent. Especially when I see first-hand the predation that is prevalent everywhere in nature. That is apparently a key part of “the plan.”

Latest example: for the past few weeks, I’ve observed a robin diligently building a nest in my garden. In a small way it’s brightened my day. They seem very confident and inquisitive as a species.

Anyway, today I notice a sleek black shape climbing up to the spot. The chirping seems to be significantly more frantic than usual. Too late, I realise what’s happening, and bang on the window. […]

I’m so lost. I have this constant longing for connection, but I don’t feel capable. I’ve turned myself into someone I can’t let anybody else see. Who I can never be honest about.

So if I rule out any kind of connection or meaningful relationship with others… what do I do with that longing? How do I live with it without being self-destructive and addicted and constantly thinking about death? How do I deal with being that alone?

How do I accept this existence I’ve made for myself? Because what can’t be changed must be accepted. But I don’t know how. How to find meaning in a […]

I find it extremely hard to fall asleep without pills. My mind just won’t let go of consciousness. Because the universe is wrong. Everything is wrong. Nothing is ok. And something must be done.

But there’s nothing to be done. What’s done is done. Can’t un-see what’s been seen. Can’t forget how it felt. Can’t pursue the one thing that actually seems meaningful now.

So my mind keeps me awake, over a problem that can’t be solved.

In order to pursue a life that seems meaningful, you have to be a semi-decent human being. I’m not capable of reaching that low bar. Ever. I’ve infected my mind with […]

I don’t think I’ll ever feel close to another human being again. And I didn’t realise I needed that until it was far, far too late.

Even if I’m physically intimate with someone, I’ll always be aware in the back of my mind that if they knew the truth about me, they’d be repulsed. So I don’t think I’ll ever have those feelings of connection, trust, comfort or safety. I’ll always feel somewhat on edge. Distanced, disconnected, monitoring the situation for signs of threat. I will always be alone.

It’s this void inside that I can’t fill. Of course I have addictive behaviours. I’m constantly desperately looking […]

I do things I’m ashamed of, as a way to escape the sadness that frequently envelops me. Because nothing else works. Nothing else changes my experience in the short term. Nothing else is exciting. Nothing else feels worthwhile. Nothing else has meaning.

The things that I do are not ok. Not because they have negative impacts on anyone else. But because they involve feeding a side of me that shouldn’t exist. They involve thoughts that no one should ever have. And even as one part of me is excited and satisfied, I feel the shame rising up. And the shame becomes the reason for the sadness.

The […]

Time and again, I find myself asking: “How could a creature this wretched and miserable not kill himself?”

And the obvious answers are survival instinct, a blind and deeply rooted fear of death, along with attachment to delusional fantasies of a life worth living.

And those don’t seem like very good reasons. It kind of feels like if that’s all that’s keeping me here in such misery, I “should” find some way to overcome those inhibitions and end it.

But that then raises questions of what that “should” is based on, if not personal preference. And all I can really come up with in terms of a moral […]

I need to make the pain stop. But I’m not prepared to do the one thing that’s likely to end it. So I’m forcing myself to remain here. I’m choosing to continue this misery. I’m doing this to myself.

And tomorrow, maybe I’ll try to do something to make it all a little less painful. But right now, all I want is an escape. An off switch, a distraction, anything that allows me to forget my reality.

I’m all alone. No one really knows me, because I can’t allow anyone to see what I am. But that’s probably part of why I post here. Because when you […]

So… assuming the “self” is a mental construct, in which disparate and conflicting emotional currents are tied together by a chain of memories into something that feels vaguely coherent… what “should” one do?

I mean, if I know that parts of me want to do terrible things, and other parts want to do selfish but basically normal things, and still other parts want to refrain from doing anything immoral and act honourably, and some parts just want to end everything… and I know that whatever I choose, there will never be peace in my mind… what do I do with that realisation?

Does it matter? Does it […]

It’s hard not to be consumed by hatred, when you’re in pain, and don’t know how to stop it. There’s this part of me that just wants to hurt people, I suppose to have some external outlet for that pain. Or maybe to make them as miserable as me, since misery loves company. Then maybe I won’t feel so alone. Perhaps that’s the delusional logic.

And there’s no justification for that. I’m in this situation because of decisions I made. Other people certainly helped me to get here, but I was as free as anyone can be to choose a better path. So I can blame […]

I’m so unbelievably fucked in the head. Emotionally, in terms of my desires. When I’m honest with myself about what I really want, it’s the darkest fucking shit.

And it’s not like I’m going to do any of it. Most of it is next to impossible even if I had the consistent motivation.

But it leaves me feeling so fucking alienated from other people. From society, humanity, my family, who I used to be.

There is this part of me that just wants to use and exploit people. That isn’t capable of love, or trust, or even friendship. That would happily wipe out or enslave every other creature […]

No more pain. No more fear. No more regret, longing, shame, self-hatred or despair. Freedom. That’s the yearning that brings me back here.

It seems unlikely that would be the reality. Freedom is experienced. What I really want is to experience existence, free of all these negatives that make it seem unbearable. Whereas death seems likely to involve either the end of existence, or the end of any kind of self that I could identify with.

So death would not bring freedom. But it would likely bring an end, And that sometimes seems appealing to a delusional part of me. Because the pain seems unbearable, and intolerable. […]

I tell myself that there are certain things I won’t endure, where I’ll overcome my fear of death and end it if they seem imminent. If my past ever catches up with me, for example. Or nuclear war. Or degenerative illness. Points where it seems outright stupid not to kill myself, to spare myself pointless suffering.

But what’s troubling is that my life is already at the point where on balance, it would probably be better for me if I stopped existing. I’m in near-constant discomfort. The pain isn’t agonizing or anything, but it is enough to make sleep difficult. I’m chronically depressed, and I feel […]

Life could so easily have been so good. But I allowed myself to become so twisted that I was incapable of seeing that, or of enjoying it. I couldn’t see past all the shame and anger, to take the few small steps that could’ve righted my course. And now I can’t stop tormenting myself over what could’ve been, all those years ago. What should’ve been. I do it in my dreams, and then wake up with this gnawing sense of emptiness and absence, where a meaningful life should be.

I should be that person. I should be in that universe. I should’ve made those choices. But […]

As I’ve previously mentioned, a big part of my depression/despair is the lack of any kind of connection or intimate relationship. I fall asleep longing for it, wake up the same, and spend most of the day trying not to think about it.

And one of the main reasons I’m not actively working to find that is there’s things about myself that I know I could never be honest with a prospective partner about, that I know would almost universally be a deal-breaker. Even if there was someone out there crazy/desperate enough to accept these parts of me, I know I couldn’t risk confessing to 100 […]

I built up this shame within myself. All the humiliation, the rage, the bewildered hurt, the self-hatred, the fear. Why are they treating me like that? What had I done to deserve it? Why am I just letting it happen?

All of that poison, I channelled into this parasite growing in my mind. Layer on layer, over years. And gradually it became who I was. I found ways to enjoy letting the hatred seep out, without really being aware of what I was becoming. Worse and worse.

And I made myself into something so shameful that now I’m incapable of ever feeling ok with myself again.

And I […]

I’m miserable, in a way I don’t think I can change. And it’s not even that I “want” to kill myself. I’m terrified of death. But it feels like on some level I “should”. And that should is confusing.

It’s not so much moral. Though there’s certainly an argument that I pose a danger to others, sick as I am, I think I’ve pretty effectively isolated myself from negatively effecting anyone. Unless I somehow became actually psychotic and lost all grip on reality, I don’t see that changing.

And in terms of just weighing up the consequences of killing myself, it’s hard to persuade myself it’d be […]

I’m a terrible person. Which I repeat here not to be down on myself (which I know is common among depressives), but to accurately represent my situation. By almost any moral standard you could choose to use, I am scum. Of course there’s a sense in which any moral judgement is subjective, and artificially imposed on reality by the human mind. But if you do believe that there’s certain things one should not do, then chances are you’ll agree I’m trash. I say this based particularly on my past actions, but also my current behaviour, my motivations, my emotions, my psychology. I’m an example of […]

Significant parts of me want to do terrible things. Am I ever going to? I highly doubt it. I may sometimes feel like I want to, but I don’t actually want to become the person who’s done such things. If that makes sense.

I don’t want to have to experience being on the other side of having done them. Having to deal with the awareness of what I’d done, and see myself that way. Then again, I don’t want to deal with the awareness of the things I’ve already done, and who I am right now. But I assume it would be even worse.

Possibly not. Possibly […]

I can’t imagine anyone really knowing me, understanding me, seeing me, and still wanting to be close to me. And that’s something I have this fundamental longing for. To be seen, to be loved, to be accepted, to be held. To be ok. In the eyes of others, through my own eyes. To be acceptable. And I can’t imagine ever getting to that point, no matter what I do.

Even if I spent the next 20 years successfully resisting my worst impulses, and pulled myself together enough to do some real good in the world. Even if I really tried to be someone I’m not ashamed […]

More than anything, I want to go back. Regain my innocence. Regain my hope. Take a different path through life. Never see the things I’ve seen, never discover the things I know. Be an optimist till my dying die, even in the face of death.

There’s no going back. There’s only forward. Even if you could somehow transport yourself to a past setting and time, you would remain who you are now moving forward. You couldn’t transport yourself back into your former self, without replacing that self. There may in some sense be the past “you” that still exists, somewhere. But there is no way of […]