thehusk

I feel so terrible about myself, but simultaneously love all the reasons I have for hating myself. It’s both the worst and most awful thing ever and the most amazing incredible thing imaginable. In short, my mind is fucked.

I don’t want to feel this anymore. Except parts of me really do.

I want to eradicate this from my mind. Purge it all, wipe it from existence. Or sink into it and be completely consumed by it.

It’s living with it that’s the problem. Like a shard in my mind. This terrible unforgivable thing driving me. I can’t bear it. But I can’t bear to let go either. […]

Suppose for whatever reason you decide that you’re not ready to end it yet. But you’re still filled with an overwhelming sense of the futility of living. You’re still in pain, and that seems likely to only get worse. You’re still completely alone, and unable to see any possibility of meaningful connection. It still feels clear that you would be better off not existing.

Are there better ways to manage that feeling? So that it consumes you and tortures you as little as possible? I’ve been trying/failing for the best part of 12 years now.

Some random responses that come to my mind:

Mindfulness/meditation – to try to […]

If it’s cowardice that’s stopping me, is that something I should try to overcome? Would that even be possible?

If it’s because I don’t want to devastate my parents, then why isn’t that enough to motivate me to get my shit together and do what I need to to survive?

If I’m always going to be alone, and the main purpose of life is connection with others, then what’s the point in continuing?

If I’m an unforgivably terrible person, and the world would be better off without me, then why aren’t I doing the right thing and ending it?

If my mind generates high levels of emotional suffering, and […]

It’s truly pathetic, but I don’t feel there’s a way out of it. I don’t know – when does a want become a need?

I constantly find myself invested emotionally in getting attention from women. I don’t even realize I’m doing it. I’ll start conversations online thinking it’s purely innocent chatting, but when someone responds suddenly find I’m way too invested in them liking me. Which is pointless, because there’s nothing to most of these things – there’s nowhere it can go. But this desperate dumb subconscious part of me thinks it’ll somehow magically become something more. Even though I don’t even have the conscious intention […]

There’s so much conflict in me between the parts of me that want to live and those that think I shouldn’t. Even if I could find someone who wanted to be involved with me on a surface level (feels unlikely), I’d never be able to be honest with them. And maybe that would feel even worse than this complete loneliness. To be deceiving someone you cared for, to be deeply wronging them simply by your involvement. So close to a meaningful connection, but fundamentally lying about who you are.

There’s a monster in me. That sounds melodramatic, but it’s the best way I can think to […]

I can’t see how I’ll ever be able to overcome my fear and actually do it. Which is irrational. Presuming consciousness disintegrates with the body, what is there to fear?

Yes, it will completely devastate my parents and sister, and yes, that’s terrible. But do I really care enough to endure another 20 plus years of feeling like this (not to mention how much worse things are likely to get)? Surely not.

Given that we all have to face death naturally at some point, it makes sense to skip ahead and bring an end to my own wretchedness.

I’m just so instinctively averse to the idea. Even just […]

There’s nothing I could do at this point to become acceptable. I’ve irredeemably stained myself. So why fucking bother? Why do anything?

I don’t want to be this. The villain in other people’s stories. The threat. The source of disgust and repulsion. It hurts. And I’m not saying I don’t deserve to feel bad. But it’s not a feeling I can stand. It drains all meaning from the world. There’s no hope.

I don’t want die. I’ve got survival instincts like most people. Dying scares the shit out of me. I have more reason than most to fear hell.

But I don’t want to be this anymore. I’m […]

Even when I’m with people, I’m alone. Morally, psychologically. I’ve cut myself off from humanity. So now I have to act, with everyone. I have to pretend I’m not this sick twisted thing. Because who I really am is too repulsive. I shouldn’t be allowed to exist in society.

It’s hard to say whether this was always in me, looking for a way out. Maybe in different circumstances I would’ve turned out better.

But I did this to myself, and now I have to live with it. Or not.

Why go on living, when every interaction you have with others is deceitful, and robbed of meaning? When genuine […]

It’s kind of absurd how one of the worst things in the world has come to feel like the most amazing thing in my mind. How could someone become so morally confused? I suppose it happened gradually. Years of ignoring taboos, pushing boundaries. Sinking to the lowest depths to avoid facing feelings I didn’t know how to deal with.

But I can’t help thinking there was always something inherent in me, some disposition or vulnerability to evil. I don’t think I would have chosen this from a position of total moral clarity. Something was always wrong, and it just grew with me.

Could it have been otherwise? […]

I keep getting overwhelmed by the thought that I should be ending it now, while I still can, before something terrible happens. Not that things aren’t bad now – but it’s more or less tolerable. I have no life, no prospects, no real relationships – I’m completely alone. I’m full of regret, longing, guilt, shame, self-hatred etc. But I’m used to it. I’m used to being miserable. If everything just stayed like this, I reckon I could stick it out another 50 years and die naturally. Or at least until my parents died.

But things won’t stay like this. Things will continue to deteriorate. And the […]

Reasons To Kill Myself:

Fear of extreme suffering in future – imprisonment, violence, poverty, homelessness, accident, disability.
Ending my current emotional cycle of regret, despair, longing, guilt, shame, self-hatred, craving, & fear.
Ending the near constant low level physical discomfort.
Ridding the world of my stain, and preventing any future negative effects on others.

Reasons Not To:

Emotional devastation of family – my parents and sister.
Fear of the experience of dying.
Fear of something worse beyond death.
Attachment to fantasies of a future – love, contentment, peace etc.
Attachment to being in this world- memory, beauty, music.
Fear of making a mistake – that continuing to live could somehow be worthwhile.
Addiction to certain experiences and […]

It seems that everyone is in the position of gambling on the nature of reality. By delaying ending my life, I am wagering that something terrible doesn’t happen in the mean time. Or that it will somehow pay off in terms of future happiness or fulfillment. Or that my endurance of suffering will be worth it in terms of protecting my parents and sister from the devastation of loss.

My problem is that I have no confidence in any of these reasons. There is every reason to believe that at some part, it will all fall apart. That my past will catch up with me, bringing […]

I’m in a near constant state of internal conflict and uncertainty. I should be dead. If anyone should, I should. I must be among the most wretched people on this planet. There’s so much wrongness in me.

But ending my life seems likely to devastate my parents and sister. When they’ve done so much to try to help me. I don’t want to do that to them. To infect their lives with my despair and hopelessness, when they worked so hard to give me hope and happiness when I was young.

Perhaps that’s just a rationalization, and all that’s really keeping me going is blind survival instinct. […]

I’m so wrong. And sometimes I can kind of recognize it. I’m a partially self-aware monster. But I won’t change. Because changing would mean letting go of fantasies, and false meanings. And there’s nothing else for me. There’s no other motivation in my mind. My core self is corrupt.

Strip that away, and what’s left? Just an aging meatbag who spends all day sleeping and digesting.

My will to survive is bound up in the unconscious delusion that at some point my fantasies will come true, and all will be right with the world.

Take away the wanting, craving, narcissistic fantasist…and nothing remains. Maybe pain. But nothing else.

What […]

I’m so tired. Not sleepy. I slept all day. But still, I just want to curl up in a ball and forget everything. To be free of it. To not be aware of myself.

There’s stuff I have to do. Even just to keep living in the short term. Bills gotta be paid etc. And if I’m ever going to make an attempt that is smart rather than botched, then I’ll need to purchase equipment. I’ll need to research, and plan, and prepare.

I don’t want to. I don’t want to do anything that requires acknowledging my fucked reality. I want to forget, to escape, to close […]

There’s so much wrongness in my mind, This gnawing, obsessive craving that eats away at me. Delusions that I can’t let go of.

‘If only reality was this certain way, then I’d be happy.’ Perhaps. But reality isn’t that way. It’s not going to happen like that, and there’s nothing I could do to change it.

But despite knowing that rationally, I can’t seem to accept it. Because all of my meaning, all of my hope, is bound up in these delusional fantasies. Accepting the truth – that it’s never going to happen, that it’was likely never possible, and certainly isn’t possible now – that forces me […]

I don’t know how to live. With myself. With this experience. I’m so tired. And afraid. I’m not even sure of what. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop I suppose. For all my wretchedness to finally be revealed to the world, and my just deserts to catch up with me. Then there’s this constant nagging craving for any kind of intimacy, which I don’t think I’m capable of finding.

There’s no guide book on how to be this much of a fuckup (at least if you’re not religious). We’re in uncharted waters here.

I want these experiences to end. But I’m too much of a coward. […]

Each time I make the decision to keep living, I’m quickly overwhelmed by experiences I don’t know how to deal with.

One of the biggest problems is desire, longing, or craving, for things I don’t think I can fulfill. I don’t know how to let go of it. I can’t convince myself it’s not desirable. It’s just there, in the background of my mind, tormenting me.

I don’t know how to just accept that it’s not something that’s possible for me, and move on. There’s so many other things I could be focusing on, but none of it feels meaningful. My mind doesn’t really engage with it. […]

I invest hope in dumb shit that’s none of my business. Politics should be of no concern to me. However much my fellow citizens want to fuck things up is entirely up to them. It’s a reflection of how little I have going on in my own life that I let myself get hung up on the idea that external forces will somehow improve things.

The world is fucked, and I should be indifferent to that fact, instead of allowing myself to be hurt time and again by entirely predictable political outcomes.

I wanted this tiny issue resolved, after wasting a whole day on it. So I persisted. I faced my fear. I tried other avenues. I panicked. Now I feel shame. I feel fear. I feel…pathetic.

Some people were nice. Some were alarmed. The minor issue is somewhat resolved, though threads lie untied.

But I feel…worthless.  Pathetic. Inferior. Disgusting. Inadequate. Hopeless. Like the ground should just swallow me up.

Nothing significantly bad will result. Those who think worse of me are unlikely to do anything about it. Nothing major will happen.

But I have exposed myself as unworthy – as inadequate – as weird, erratic, inferior, pathetic. I have allowed […]