thehusk

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 […]

I find people…difficult. Maybe everyone does. I don’t know. Most don’t seem to get so hung up on the little things. There’s this feeling inside of paralysis, of wrongness, when it comes to minor social interactions. I don’t know what’s appropriate. I am consumed by doubt. I fear negative judgement.

Do I insistently bang loudly upon the door until someone answers, or return some other time? Do I wait for that organisation to call me back, or take matters into my own hands, risking later confusion & annoyance? Is my uncertainty a demonstration of foolishness? Of lack of common sense? Would any normal person know what […]

So…I should kill myself, because I’m a worthless piece of shit. But I’m not going to, because I’m a coward. Which leaves me having to face my own worthless shittiness.

The obvious solution would be to stop being such a worthless piece of shit. But that’s easier said than done. My instinct is to be that way. When I try to do otherwise, it feels worse. It’s like the wrongness in me is constantly fighting to be expressed. Constantly suppressing it is an effort I’m just not motivated to maintain.

So, realistically, I’m not going to change. I’m not going to kill myself. I’m just going to […]

I am torn between two views of reality, and of the self.

One is that the self is dependent on the brain. It changes as the brain changes, and as the brain is damaged by injury or disease. Who you are is what your brain does. As the brain dies and is broken down and subsumed into other organisms, so the self fragments and is dissipated.

The other is that the self can somehow transcend death, and will be held to account for it’s actions in life. That it is a discrete entity, which can be detached from the world, and judged alone. That in some sense […]

I should be researching methods, ordering equipment, preparing. If I was serious, that’s what I’d be doing. Instead I procrastinate. Clearly, I don’t want to die enough.

I just desperately want to not feel this way anymore. To not have the experience of being me anymore. To not have this guilt, shame, regret, craving, self-hatred constantly hanging over me. I want to be free of myself. But I’m simultaneously too attached to it all to let go.

Killing myself would devastate my family. So I shouldn’t do it. But it would (probably) put an end to my suffering. So I should do it.

It seems you can’t change […]

I don’t know what to do. In one sense, I should kill myself. I’m a terrible person. I’ve done awful things in the past, and part of me wants to do worse. And recognising objectively that I’m a bad person doesn’t motivate me to be much better in future. My conscience fades in and out, like a radio station – some times there’s just no signal, and I want to do the worst things imaginable (though fortunately I have little ability to). People like me shouldn’t exist. I don’t want to exist as this person, during times when my conscience is stronger. It feels wrong […]

Every so often I get a reminder of how bad existence in this world can really get. A common theme is a depiction of someone burning to death. Today it was a film clip of someone caught in the blast of a nuclear explosion. Apparently, if you’re a certain distance from the centre, you don’t get vaporised, but it’s so hot that everything around you catches on fire – your hair, your clothes, everything. Now obviously this was played up for dramatic effect, but the level of agony, terror, and sheer animal desperation depicted on this character’s face rang true.

Every time I come across something […]

Since it seems I’m not going to be ending my life (at least for the time being), that leaves me trying to improve my current experience. I’m just not sure how. I’m so tired, afraid, isolated, despairing, full of self-hatred etc. Then there’s all the physical discomfort I’m in. I just want to zone out and totally disconnect from reality. But I can’t. If I’m going to try and survive, I need to find some way to function.

But I don’t know how to do that without making myself feel worse. There always seems to be some reminder of my inferiority, my worthlessness, how hopeless it […]

Imagine not being alone. Imagine there was someone you could be around without crippling fear. Imagine being able to let someone, anyone in. Imagine experiencing a sense of peace and contentment. Imagine not having to hide yourself from the world. Imagine not being a twisted evil narcissistic failure of a person. Imagine someone actually knowing you. Imagine emotional intimacy. Imagine a partner, someone truly on your side. Imagine the background hum of dread subsiding. Imagine feeling glad you were alive. Imagine having a future. Imagine not being consumed with shame, guilt and self-hatred. Imagine experiencing real hope again. Imagine not seeing this world as a […]

No matter how many times I try and rationally weigh up the idea of ending my life, and decide it’s not time yet, a stubborn part of me just refuses to accept this reality. I just don’t want to live in this world, where I’m this pathetic broken thing. It’s pointless. There’s nothing here for me. I don’t have it in me to be happy anymore. My primary reasons for staying are not wanting to devastate family and fear of death.

But I don’t actually want to live anymore. Not like this. I’ve ruined my life, ruined my self, and there’s no fixing it. I’m just […]

If it’s preferable to end unnecessary suffering, and I apparently can’t stop myself being miserable, then why aren’t I preparing to end it?

I could say that doing so would make my parents and sister miserable, and that passing my pain on to them wouldn’t be justified. But if it’s love for them that’s stopping me, then why doesn’t that motivate me to pull myself together, instead of constantly dragging them down and stressing them out?

It might be pure unconscious animal survival instinct. But if that’s the case then again, why isn’t it motivating me to do what I need to do to survive long term? […]

16,425 days. Or 45 years. That’s roughly how much longer I could expect to live, supposing I had an average natural life span. That’s an awfully long time to spend alone, full of self-hatred, guilt, regret, despair, and longing. I’m pretty sure I could take another week, month, year, possibly even another decade like this. But 45 years? And it only gets harder over time, as I get older and memories of happiness fade. I first felt this despair 12 years ago, but I hadn’t sunk so deep then. I could still hold an irrational hope that things would change. But the longer you spend […]

I’m so insanely fucking lonely. And desperate. It’s utterly pathetic. I’ve never not been alone, since I was a kid. I’m too far gone at this point…too isolated and weird. Like I froze my social development at an infant level, but then added all this fucked up stuff on top. I don’t think I’m even capable of being with anyone now. I have no idea how to interact with people in a natural or spontaneous way. I can’t ever relax around others. I hate myself when I’m talking to people. I hate the things that come out of my mouth. I hate myself basically. And […]

The human will is an interesting thing…I can understand intellectually that something is twisted, messed up, evil, harmful, dangerous, unwise…and yet still feel a deep longing to do it.

Which doesn’t mean I will. Obviously I also have significant survival impulses deterring me from more destructive courses of action.

But knowing I’m not going to act on a desire doesn’t make it go away. Instead it just torments me all the more. The longer you deny an urge, the larger it becomes in your psyche.

The question then arises…how do I stop wanting this thing that cannot be acted upon, that is causing me pain? To which there […]

Today for the first time my reasons for suicide outweighed my reasons against. Which doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything hasty. I’m still terrified of the idea. But for the first time it seems like the balanced, rational choice, rather than just an emotional reaction. My resistance to it now seems like the irrational emotional response.

I suppose what this mainly reflects is the further erosion of my optimism. I’ve had more time to dwell on what I value in life, and it’s become clearer how slim my chances of finding a meaningful life are. I’ve also been spending more time out and about, which […]