thehusk

“It shouldn’t be this way.” I think that’s the core of suffering – the brain’s conviction that something has gone terribly wrong. I was supposed to have relationships. Friends. I was supposed to be likable, admirable, respectable, decent. I was supposed to be a good person. I was supposed to have a decent, meaningful career, and a family, and a partner. That’s how it’s supposed to go.

But that’s not who I turned out to be. Instead I’m a neurotic, unlikable deviant. I’m socially awkward, depressing to be around, morally twisted. And it’s not that I consciously chose to be any of these things. But I […]

I’ve spent most of my life making myself pointlessly unhappy. And I’m not sure if it’s that I don’t know how to stop, or I don’t want to stop. But either way, I can’t stop. I get attached to impossible things or fantasies, emotionally invested in them. And they become the only thing that feels meaningful, that feels worthwhile. But meanwhile I’m simultaneously aware that it’s not real, and there’s nothing I can do to make it real. And that hurts me. But I can’t bear to give up on the fantasy, even though it’s hurting me, because if I do then I’ll have nothing. […]

There’s so much misery inside of me, that I’ve spent so many years burying. Parts of me I didn’t know how to fulfil, or was too scared to. And in order to bury that misery, I’ve given power to other parts of myself that are insatiable, compulsions that never bring real peace or satisfaction.

So now no matter what I do, some repressed part of me will be screaming for the alternative. Contentment is not possible. It’s just a question of which path brings less misery. And knowing that makes me want to give up. But I won’t let myself end it. I’m too afraid of […]

The part of me that wants to end it is unlikely to be strong enough to prevail anytime soon, unless there’s some kind of catastrophic development. This animal apparently wants to cling to survival, regardless of misery.

But the delusional optimist in me isn’t strong enough either, to push me to finally sort my life out. It would probably be the smart thing, in terms of having fewer regrets in future. At least then I wouldn’t have to wonder about what would’ve happened if I’d really tried at this point in my life, the way I do about times in my past. But the odds of […]

I’ve never come across a good example of how to manage the incredible range of contradictory, conflicting drives within me. I often see people who are struggling with some aspect of themselves, and think that if they just made a small adjustment in their approach, they could avoid so much trouble. But when it comes to myself, I have no clue where to start.

I have instincts and impulses to do the worst things imaginable within me. And it’s not that I’m worried that I’m actually going to enact them. I’m generally pretty reserved in most circumstances. But they’re strong enough to the point where they […]

I don’t want to be this anymore.  Being inside my mind is not a fun place to be. I’m tired, sad, lonely, and full of regret, all the time. My life sucks. And I’m not blaming anyone else for that, But it feels so past the point of repair that the urge to give up is overwhelming.

There are certain kinds of videos games (I’m thinking mainly of strategy/tactics games) where it becomes clear you’ve messed it up, long before you hit a game over. Where the mistakes you made early on are now sabotaging your every move, making just keeping your head above water hugely […]

There’s something extremely destabilising about not having a clear idea what you’re living for. If I examine the narratives I tell myself about what’s keeping me here, none of them are sufficient to help me to live a functional life.

I’m not killing myself because of a strong attachment to an unrealistic and idealised fantasy of a possible life (romantic love, inner peace, freedom from pain.) But if it’s obvious that it’s highly unrealistic, then what good does that do me? What does it give me to work towards, to motivate me to get out of bed in the morning, to get my life in better […]

I never thought I’d be this alone when I was young. I encountered plenty of people who lived on their own, who relied on occasional visits from relatives to provide them with social contact, but it never occurred to me that that would be me. I suppose I lived in a pretty sheltered bubble for most of my childhood. I never learned that you had to work in order to get people in your life, in order to build worthwhile relationships. I was able to live with the delusion that things like that would just come to me. I never had to struggle or work […]

I’m tired of trying to distract myself from my loneliness. I’ve been more or less alone for the majority of my life, and it’s only getting worse as I get older. No one knows me. No one cares except my family, and they don’t really know me. I’ve given no one a reason to care about me. There is no good reason to care about me. I’m not someone worthy of being cared for. But it doesn’t stop me wanting it. I want to be known. I want at least one other person to really understand what goes on in my head, without wanting to […]

Trying is scary to me. If I do everything within my power, and it’s still not close to enough to get me anywhere worthwhile, but I still don’t have it in me to end it, then I’m just… stuck. Stuck in complete misery and despair. No more false hope or fantasies to tell myself, to get me through the day. Just the unrelenting awareness of my failure and inferiority. That’s terrifying.

But at the moment the story I’m telling myself is that I will try. That I am trying. Tentatively and gradually at first. But  that I will eventually do all that’s reasonably possible to find […]

Something I think about a lot is unavoidable suffering, what you might call “existentially necessary suffering”. There’s the suffering that’s caused by our own minds, or inflicted on us by other people, which we can imagine might easily by relieved by a change in fortunes. But then there’s the suffering that’s “built-in” to the fabric of reality. The children born with agonizing degenerative illnesses. The animals doomed to be slowly torn to pieces in a competition for survival. The suffering that was in some senses required for this world, with all it’s beauty and wonder, to exist. You can think of it as “natural evil” […]

I want not to feel this anymore. What is this? An insanely messy and conflicting mesh of things. In no particular order…

Fear: I’m afraid that I am completely unacceptable to other people, and will never be acceptable, no matter what I do in future. I have done unforgivable things, and want to do even more unforgivable things, and if anyone ever finds out, I will face violence & rejection. And if no one ever finds out, I’ll just be alone. Even if I’m with someone. Alone with the knowledge of what I’ve done, and what I still want to do.
Longing/Craving: Sometimes for healthy/good things. Sometimes for […]

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 […]

I think I have a massively distorted sense of what might make a life meaningful (romantic love, beauty.) Possibly because I’ve never had those things in my own life, it’s allowed my mind to magnify their significance over the years. Perhaps those who do experience them are more able to view them through an appropriate perspective. But to attach so much meaning to something so trivial/inconsequential definitely seems like evidence of delusional thinking. I think a sheltered upbringing and susceptibility to modern cultural narratives has also played a part.

It might also be that I’ve clung on to the significance of those things for so long […]

To not be as miserable, I think I need people in my life. Some are fine on their own, but I don’t think I’m one of them. I’m extremely introverted, but I still need people. I need to feel seen, to be known. I need some form of meaningful interaction with at least one other person on a daily basis. Otherwise, it’s like I don’t exist. I drift through life like a ghost. I don’t think it’s something I can think my way out of. I’ve spent decades trying to deny it, but I think it’s a fundamental psychological need.

This is a problem. Needing people […]

I feel so far from a meaningful life. And it’s so hard to take even a tiny step in the right direction. Because I know that once I’ve exerted the effort, and put myself through the ordeal, I will still be effectively in exactly the same place. I will still go to bed tonight tormented by all of the things I missed out on in life. And I will still wake up tomorrow exhausted, not wanting to face the world.

It would take so much consistent effort to get myself even close to something different. And I just can’t bring myself to do it. Every tiny […]

“Accept what you cannot change.”

I definitely can’t change the past. So I have to accept that I’ve done so many unacceptable things.

And pretty much no matter what I do from this point on, I won’t be able to change people’s perceptions of me for doing those unacceptable things. I will always be a terrible person, and I have to accept that. I have to accept that I will always be alone, psychologically isolated from other people. That I will always have to hide the truth about myself in order to just keep existing in the world.

I obviously can’t change how old I am, or all […]

It’s so hard to force yourself to do things to improve your life, when a large part of you doesn’t want to be alive. It’s a constant “what the fuck am I doing this for?” And the only answer you can tell yourself is: “so things might be marginally less shitty at some unspecified point in the future.” Cool. Or I could just curl up in a ball and try to forget the world exists for a few hours. The end result will be be more or less the same.

I have no motivation, no drive to do anything, no energy.

When I weigh up suicide, two factors generally seem to carry equal importance:

I cannot stand feeling like this anymore. I hate being me, being in my head. It’s just this endless loop of regret, longing, despair, fear, self-hatred and shame. It’s not a life worth living, and I can only see it getting worse over the years ahead.
. It seems unacceptable to put my family in the position of having to mourn my loss. They’re far too invested in my wellbeing, and they’ve done so much to try and help me over the years. I don’t think they’d get over it, and I can see […]

I never figured out how to be ok with how much of life is full of death and decay. From your mid 20s, it’s like your body is slowly falling apart. All that effort to grow into adulthood, and then so quickly it’s all going downhill, like it was all for nothing.

Now in my mid 30s, I’m officially over the hill. My back hurts, my teeth are worn down, I have huge bags under my eyes from decades without sleep, and most of my hair is gone. My parents are now pensioners. It always strikes me whenever I see them: when did they turn into […]