I spend so much of my time trying to escape from my reality. Especially at night. All I want is for the awareness to go away. The awareness that my life is meaningless, that I will live and die alone. I often take sleeping pills. They work, but they leave me feeling worse the next day, drained of energy and barely able to get out of bed. And my dreams while on them tend to be pretty weird – lots of anxiety. But the alternative is spending hours sitting with my awareness, too tired to divert my mind or focus on anything else. Hour after […]
There’s a kind of mental suffering that’s hard to put your finger on or express, but I guess I’m trying to process that. I’d say one aspect comes from the awareness that you’re not a good person. Not just in terms of your actions, but also your emotions. Your desires. What you want from the world is not good. And you can’t just stop desiring something. That’s not how that works. So you continue to feel the desire, while simultaneously being aware that it’s wrong. And I think as a result you become alienated from yourself on a fundamental level, which is deeply painful. You […]
I’ve tried to express this before, but there’s something absurd about experiencing desires that cannot be satisfied. I can recognise that yearning after these things is making me miserable – that it would be far better for me to let them go. Even that letting go of such things is a necessary condition for any human to be happy and fulfilled in the long term, that they’re ultimately superficial and unnecessary.
My life would be better in so many ways if I just didn’t want the things that I want, or if I didn’t feel the desire so intensely. But if someone were to offer to […]
I spend most of each day lying in a darkened room. I don’t see anybody, or speak to anybody. No one knows I exist. Nobody thinks about me. Apart from close family, no one cares. I feel tired all the time. Broken. I have no drive, no fight, no energy to improve things. I’m defeated.
I still eat. I suppose there’s a deeper level of depression, where you’re completely catatonic and don’t even do the basics to keep yourself alive.
Beyond my parents, who I see once a fortnight, I have nobody. I have none of the social skills you need to build new relationships, and I’m […]
I hate what I am. What I let myself become. But I suppose a part of me also loves it. Otherwise I wouldn’t still be clinging on.
There’s so many things you can do in life, so many things you can be. And I chose this. Maybe not consciously. But still.
Pretty much my entire adulthood, I haven’t really been trying to live. I’ve been too busy running from myself.
Because for all that time, it’s been clear. No matter what I do from this point on, I’ll always be a piece of shit.
So why bother? Why try? Why take care of your health and your body? Why […]
What’s stopping me? Fear of death/attachment to ideas about life. It’s hard to distinguish between the two. What’s so terrifying about an end to this life?
The finality of it? Knowing it’s something that can’t be undone? A final end to all hopes, dreams, plans, concerns. Letting go, of everything. An end to all that the self is, or thinks it is. Maybe that’s what’s terrifying.
Or is it that I’m afraid it won’t be the end? That the things I’ve done in this life will somehow torment me beyond. That the judgement I’ve been running from for so long will finally hit me. No more running, […]
Denial is difficult to maintain. In order to function and remain alive, I must engage with reality to some extent. But then inevitably reminders of the truth leak in, And the truth feels unbearable. I don’t know how to live with the truth. I don’t want to live with the truth. I don’t want to live as the person who’s done the things I’ve done, or seen the things I’ve seen. I can’t stand it, seeing myself as that person. There’s no meaning in living in that reality. Maybe I’m too proud, or narcissistic, or conceited, or idealistic. Whatever the fuck it is, acknowledging that […]
It’s hard to motivate yourself when you know there are only bad options. No matter which you choose, it won’t be what you need. Some paths are still less shitty than others. But most of them end in more or less the same place.
The path I tell myself I’ve chosen is one of gradually letting go, of the obsessions, cravings, and regrets that consume me. But also of the hopes and dreams that I cling to to keep me going. Perhaps whoever I’ll be at the end of that road is less miserable.
But that path requires a lot of work, which I never get to. […]
So… for a few years now, I’ve been quietly dreading the death of the family dog. She’s nearly 16 now, very old for a retriever. She’s actually my parents’ dog, but they got her while I was still living with them, and I raised her for the first few months, and spent a lot of time caring for her/playing with her over the years. For a while I was her substitute “parent” – she used to fall asleep on me when she was a puppy. As sad as it is to say, it’s probably the closest I’ll get to an actual parental/caring role in my […]
I’m tired of being this. And I don’t think I have it in me to be anything else. I tell myself that I’m going to change, but I never actually do anything. Deep down, I don’t really believe anything is worth doing. I’ve ruined my life, and ruined my mind, and any changes at this point can only marginally delay the ship sinking.
I think the biggest struggle for me is getting myself to do anything beyond the bare minimum. All the tiny little things that might make my life a bit less shitty. I do so few of them. Because why push myself to improve things a small amount, if they’re still going to suck?
Ever since I broke my sense of meaning by deviating so far from morality, I’ve been in this perpetual state of lethargy. 16 years now. Pretty much my entire adulthood. I wake up, and try to force myself out of bed. Remind myself of all the things I should be doing, why I’m […]
I’ve written variations of this many times before, but I’m still trying to figure it out.
The majority of my suffering is self-generated. Meaning it emerges as a result of who I am as a person. I obviously have my fair share of physical aches and pains, which are less directly down to problems with who I am. But the mental stuff feels far worse, and it’s generally completely unnecessary. No purpose is served by my being swallowed by feelings of isolation, loss and despair.
I wouldn’t expect to ever have complete control over my emotions. But it seems like it is possible to alter over time […]
The dissonance between the raging sickness inside and whatever passes for my conscience grows more intense daily. It’s so bizarre to feel so emotionally hijacked and captivated by it one moment, and a few hours later to catch myself moralising the actions of others and feeling for the pain of the world. How could such opposite creatures exist within the same head. I feel I must be lying to myself about any pretence of empathy The sick part of me must rule all, must define me. And in the eyes of any outsider, it understandably will.
I think the reality is probably that my extreme inhumanity […]
I don’t mean the kind of failure where you don’t reach particular goals or aspirations. That kind applies to everyone. I don’t mean superficial failings, like not being attractive or financially successful, though I have certainly failed in those aspects. I don’t even mean more fundamental life failures, like not finding a partner, friends, a career, or building a family, though again I have absolutely failed in those areas. What I’m trying to get at is a more basic failing, that makes all the rest near impossible to work on.
I have failed morally. As a human being. To cultivate a personality and psychology worthy of […]
Few things make me want to say “fuck it” more than explicit reminders of how horrifying what I’ve done is to the rest of society. Of course on some level I know how awful it was. But most of the time I don’t actually feel that. It’s so mixed up with conflicting positive feelings that it doesn’t really connect.
But every now and then I get a stark summary of how the rest of the world actually views people like me. And I don’t want to live in that world. I refuse to exist in that reality. I can’t see any meaning to being that person […]
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 […]