thehusk

It’s hard to not be defined by your bad past choices. They shape who you are in the present.

Whereas everyone else in my family earned qualifications, built careers, formed relationships, created families…

I dropped out, isolated myself, ruined my mind and my body, and alienated myself from humanity. I’m a 36-year-old with less social experience than the average 15-year-old. On top of which I’ve built a whole host of negative traits in the time I should’ve been doing normal life stuff.

I don’t have the experience of functioning in a relationship. I don’t know what that’s like. I don’t know what it’s like to have close friendships. […]

I am the cause of my own pointless suffering. It’s being generated within me. So I feel a sense of responsibility to try and reduce it. Because I’m the only one that can. Not that others can’t ever provide assistance. But they can’t fix me. They can’t save me. They can’t change me. I’m on my own, and it’s probably always going to be that way.

The problem is that I don’t feel like I have to capacity to effectively help myself. I feel exhausted and full of despair most of the time. Often it’s like I’m barely in control of myself. I wasted half an […]

When it comes to what one “should” do, it seems to me there are different standards. There’s the pure, selfless, self-sacrificing standard, where you do what’s best for the group, regardless of the cost to yourself. We encourage people who follow that kind of standard by labelling them heroes (or saints), and remembering their deeds even after their death.

As appealing as that kind of validation is, I don’t aspire to that standard. Probably because I’m far too morally tainted to ever be regarded as “pure” or “virtuous”, no matter what I do. But when I am minded to consider the wellbeing of others, I generally […]

The desires that burn within me are seemingly inexhaustible. Presumably that’s why I’m still alive. Because if I’m dead then that’s the end for them. Even though I’m doing very little to pursue them, and there seems to be very little chance that any of them will ever be fulfilled.

There’s something so depressing about being able to see the futility of the motivations and drives within you, yet having nothing else within you strong enough to override them. Reason being ultimately the slave of the passions. The only thing that could overpower my will to live would be the development of a stronger will to […]

I cannot let myself be seen, by anyone. I cannot reach out, to anyone. I’m alone. Maybe we’re all alone. But most people don’t seem so alone. It seems like most people are able to convince themselves they’re not alone. If they’re delusional, then that seems preferable to this.

I need to be brainwashed. To have all the filth wiped away from my mind. So I can convince myself that I’m worthy of someone else’s company. That they won’t be disgusted and repulsed by me. So then I won’t have to be alone. So then I can reach out and have someone there, who recognises my […]

It’s not that I want to stop existing. It’s that I want to stop existing like this. Full of regret, sadness, longing, loneliness. And I can’t see any plausible ways to make that happen. If I put in enough effort and time, then maybe I could earn myself a little relief. But a lot of the time, the thought of just ceasing to be seems preferable.

I don’t view death as a liberation, or an escape. More just a dissolution of what I am now back into the rest of the world. I don’t know what it’s like to be bacteria, or a worm, or a […]

The only things I feel strongly about are either impossible, or so loaded with negative consequences that it would be wrong to attempt them. There’s nothing else in life I really want, or care about. Nothing feels that meaningful.

I do the bare minimum that I feel is necessary to survive, because I’m scared of the finality of dying. Otherwise… nothing. I try to escape into fantasies or the stories of those who have more of a reason to live than I do.

Forcing myself to work feels like pulling teeth. It’s dull, but the pay’s fine, and I can work from home. It would be OK, […]

I can’t help thinking about what life would be like if I’d made different choices. Of course, in order to choose differently, I would’ve had to have been a different person, living in a different reality. But what if things were just ever so slightly different. If something else had caught my attention, just long enough to prevent me from doing something terrible. And if I’d avoided that, would I have found my way out of my depressive self-hating spiral? Would I have rediscovered my purpose in life, and re-engaged with the world? Would there be a different version of me lying here now, with […]

I am disgusting. I’m mostly in denial about that fact. But I am. I’m so covered in filth that nothing in this world could ever make me clean. And that’s a problem, because I would quite like at least one person in this world to really understand me, while still caring about me. And that’s not possible. Because if you understand me, you understand that I’m repulsive, and you want nothing to do with me.

So I will always be alone, unless I fool others into believing I’m not repulsive. In which case I will be permanently acting, and will still feel alone and unloved. So… […]

I can’t be what I want to be. I can’t live the life I want to live. So I want nothing. I want not to want anymore. I want there to be someone worthwhile in the space I’m occupying, putting it to good use. But that’s not something I can control.

I don’t want to devastate my family. I don’t want that pain for them. So I don’t want to kill myself. I just want to not exist anymore. Or to never have been. Or really, to have been someone different. But that’s not something I can control.

In order to not die, I have to live. […]

So I’m standing on a railway platform, leaning against a pillar, waiting for my train. Looking ahead of me, trying to keep my anxiety under control, and not to get too caught up in depressing thoughts. As another train pulls in behind me, I notice a couple of girls smiling down at me from the raised street level across the tracks in front of me. They’re waving and shouting something at me, but I can’t hear a word because of the noise. I look confused, and gesture that I can’t hear, but they keep waving & smiling. Now there’s no reason for them to have […]

I’m so incredibly tired. Every single day is the same, whether I sleep or not, whether I take pills or not, whether I drink caffeine or not. It’s like there’s no energy in my system. I know I get enough calories, and I try to eat relatively healthy. It’s hard to imagine I’m deficient in anything essential.

So I assume it’s down to depression. I feel like I have no energy because my mind is telling my body that there’s no point releasing energy, because there’s no point doing anything. Not because there’s nothing to be done – there’s any number of chores that need to […]

The confusing thing about misery is the feeling that I’m kind of doing it to myself. Like I’m actively seeking out reminders of why I’m miserable. Because without those it doesn’t make sense. I wake up every day exhausted and with no motivation. Getting anything done is a struggle, I feel lost, and it’s frustrating. And inevitably I find myself drawn to things that trigger my feelings of longing and despair. And eventually I reason it all out and it becomes clear: that’s why I’m miserable. And I spend the rest of the day trying to distract myself, eventually fall asleep, and sort of forget. […]

I never really felt lonely as a child, though I spent much of the time on my own. The awareness that a few rooms away was someone who loved and accepted me unconditionally was enough.

Now I spend nearly all of my time alone, and I feel an all-consuming void in my life where other people would normally be, that grows larger every year. I see family who care about me once a week at most, and the pervasive awareness that they wouldn’t be able to accept who I really am now leads me to feel distanced and separated from even them.

I have no friends. I […]

After another day wasted trying to remind myself of the reasons I shouldn’t kill myself, I’m back at the same old place. All that I can do now is try to focus on ameliorating the circumstances that lead me to feel that my life is unbearable. And I honestly still have no idea how to effectively do that.

The longing I feel for connection and acceptance doesn’t seem fixable. I can’t be real, with anyone, because the truth about me is repulsive. So if I involve myself with anyone I’m effectively tricking them into liking me, pretending to be someone I’m not. So I inevitably feel […]

I’ve been carrying this self-disgust for a long time now. A large part of me just wants to stop. I don’t have the courage to, but I kind of wish someone else would do it for me. That would be a gift. That would be the compassionate thing to do – just put me out of my misery. I wouldn’t ask anyone to go through that though.

The things I’ve done and the things in my head contaminate everything else I do and am. I can’t see myself or think of myself except in reference to them. They define me. I gave up any claim I […]

It’s so hard to just function when my mind is consumed by how completely I’ve fucked up my life. Let alone do anything to be productive or improve my situation. I waste half the day wrestling with twisted fantasies, grasping for some kind of real foundation on which to base my life. Most of the rest is given over to sadness and regret. Why do my work, when I’m a worthless, unlovable, unbearably neurotic arsehole? Why do what’s necessary to prolong life, when my life will never be worth living? It’s like trying to drag an impossibly heavy weight behind you.

I want to be someone […]

Just trying to get some shit out (as usual.)

It’s maddening to deeply want something that you know is deeply wrong. It necessitates becoming alienated from an integral part of yourself. “No, surely, it can’t be me who would want to do that terrible thing. I would never.” And there’s no resolution to it. Either you do the terrible thing, and feel terrible about yourself. Or you don’t, and you have it eating away at you, and you feel terrible about existence in general. I hate myself, and yet a part of me loves that kind of longing far too much to ever give it up.

I […]

It’s so hard dealing with the constant reminders that my life is not worth living. That I’m alone, and I’m probably always going to be alone, and mostly what I want deep down is to not be alone anymore. Some people are fine on their own – I am not one of them. I just unfortunately lack the capacity for any degree of intimacy with others. I can’t feel connection or acceptance.

And nothing else in this world feels meaningful enough to make up for that. I’m not an artist, or a humanitarian, or an educator. I’m not religious, or an activist. I just don’t care […]

Sometimes in my dreams I’m transported back to the place I used to live, the only place I was every really “happy”. It’s different to how it actually was back then, but I know that’s where it is, because there’s forest everywhere, and the way I feel about it. I have this deep sense of longing, like I want to cling to the whole place and not let go. I desperately want to hold on to who I was back then.

I wasn’t neurotic back then. I was innocent, naïve, even for a child. I didn’t hate myself. It’s the strangest feeling, remembering that state, then […]