Detachment
Ah, look at all the lonely people…
In the church where a wedding has been,
Lives in a dream…
Waits at the window, wearing the face
That she keeps in a jar by the door,
Who is it for…
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people,
Where do they all belong?
Of a sermon that no one will hear,
No one comes near…
Look at him working, darning his socks
In the night when there’s nobody there,
What does he care…
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people,
Where do they all belong?
Ah, look at all the lonely people…
And was buried along with her name,
Nobody came…
Father McKenzie wiping the dirt
From his hands as he walks from the grave,
No one was saved…
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people,
Where do they all belong?
Wouldn’t it be better if everyone of us could live in his/her own unique madness?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7YEVP4r2ok
Lyrics:
Leave the madman in his madness
And don’t try to bring him to his senses
You don’t know what is hidden
Inside the mind of a madman
–
He might find in his madness
Everything he has desired
And wasn’t able
To see and to obtain
–
Leave the madman in his madness
Leave him in his dream
He’s been sick and tired of this world
And he created one of his own
“There’s no way you are depressed, you look so active and talkative.”
“You’ve got a whole life ahead, you have a good life so I can’t find a reason why would you be in so much pain.”
These are the words that have been told by my parents for countless times.
I’m 22 years old girl in the eastern region who’s studying in the medical field. On the outside, I used to be a happy-go-lucky, active and energetic person, but deeply I knew that I worry a lot and have a turbulent mind. I always get easily surprised and overwhelmed and my heart races a lot, these symptoms are noticed by others but they only though it was just a ‘personality’. In the past few years I used to have a few, trusted friends, which is more than enough for me. I used to be a good student in class that got straight A. I could admit that my life quality, on the external view, is preety good; I have a decent career waiting for me, my family supports me , I have some friends and I don’t have problems with studying. (Even if my anxious mind troubles me sometimes.)
Until the past few years there are some major changes in my life; The study became so much harder and there are more responsibility that I need to take.(and my school won’t allow us to drop.) Mom and dad has a chronic problem against each other and it’s getting more and more intense every time they fought , I wouldn’t want to go in details for this one. My grades dropped and my professors blamed me for being such an inactive and lazy person. Their frustration and disappointment overwhelms me (and gave me loads of …homework just to getme active). At first I was sad and disappointed, but when the show goes on and on I started to feel nothing and this scary thought develops; Life is pointless.
Over these year my motivation was loss little by little and so are my social interactions; When I’m stressed I tend to detach from my friends, it’s surprising that they don’t even know how depressed I feel deep inside, they still think I’m okay. And now, I feel like my detachment against them makes my lose my friends, they don’t act like we were friends anymore, as if we are now strangers and I’m alone in this world.
In about a month or so, the terrifying thought continuously popped up in my mind. While I was crossing the road, I deeply wishes to be ran over by a large car. (While surprisingly , when I cross the roads, my heart always races and I fear that I might got ran over by a large car some day.) It happens in the same way when I look down to the ground from tall buildings or holding a knife. In any other way, death would have been a relieve. I know that my problems could end someday, but when it ends, the new ones will begin, and I’m fed up with all these suffering. I feel like I’m stuck in an endless circle of nightmare , every single day is a day–to–day survival and the only thing I’m looking forward to is to get back to bed, and the new nightmare starts when I woke up.
Surprisingly, NO ONE notices
; When they still sees me smile, they still think that I’m okay. Even if I tell them I’m not okay. I’ve told my parents about some of my anxious thoughts and they doesn’t seem to care, they say something like ‘as long as you can smile, you’re fine’ and ‘you’re just being sensitive, learn to change yourself’. They told me this several times. They blame my lethargy for bad grades and failure at work. If person that can be trusted the most shattered your soul, then who can you really put a trust on?
I feel like I’m indeed alone in this world, with my surrounding that still bothers me, it’s hard to explain; It’s like you’re at a large party with noone you knew … and people are just dancing and having fun and you just sat there doing nothing, you can dance with someone or have a drink or two during the stay, but deep inside … you would still feel lonely , you would wait for the party to end so you could get home and go back to your room and be alone, that wouldn’t be as painful as being alone in the partying crowd.
And for me, life is like that party, and that party would end when my life ends.
I just want to be left alone, so I can detach myself off those overwhelming stimulus, so I don’t have to wear a fake smile to the world, it’s so disgusting. It drains me so much even if I already feel like I am so dry, I have nothing left inside. All those fame , money and suceed can never motivated me anyways. Deep inside, I don’t want the world to remember me. If I leave this world, I want to leave unnoticed , I don’t want to existed , or even have a history of existance in this world.
But then you’d ask why would I write this, well, because I think it might be beneficial for some person. I live in my thoughts , for most of the time. So if you have a relative/friends/partner that has a similiar personality traits and/or mental illness , you might understand them more.
And hopefully, they won’t end up like me.
I have this talk with my friend. It made me tell him some stuffs.
He asked me why I feel threatened by my classmates. I said I feel detached.
He told me it’s not too late. I told him I don’t want this side of me die. If it dies then I’ll die.
Isn’t it mad? I’ve been living with my anxiety for so long that it became me. So if it dies, who will I become? Who will I see in the mirror. Who am I?
It’s funny how I always tell my anxiety how much I hate her but I actually don’t want her out of my life.
Everyone has something unique in them but me? I have nothing. It might sounds crazy but I want anxiety to devour me. I want to drown in insanity. And maybe that’s the answer for this empty shell.
I have never attempted suicide before and probably will never do that in the future, although I am suicidal. The depressing thought cannot get out of my head. Only watching people who are also suicidal can make me feel much better, because I tend to dispassionately analyze their feelings and so I become an observer rather than a sufferer.
There’s no point to live, but there’s no point to die either, from my perspective. That’s why I’m still alive. There’s no point to do anything. Suicide is such a luxury, an aggregation of  courage, ego, curiosity, perseverance, nonchalance about collective unconsciousness, motivation, liberation, freedom of self-expression, that I am not capable of. Everyone is beyond redemption, and some have the drive to do something, either to leave or to thrive. But some don’t.
It is not despair. It’s nothing, not even nihilism, but merely nothing.
When mind-elation comes, I become gratefully agnostic. But for the rest of the time, I feel nothing.
I don’t know whether it is pain or fear. Very hard to name it.
The only thing I would like to do is lie still on the bed for as long as I like. Maybe… I just need some rest. That’s it? Maybe after pouring out all of those words above, I’m feeling much better again.
Fucking mood swings.
The last four years, since turning 50, has been an ever ending series of bad decisions, failed marriage, financial ruin and more recently poor physical health. These events have taken its toll on my wellbeing and mental capacity to move forward, and notwithstanding the niggling doubt that I am about to embark on my final ‘bad decision’, I have come to the cold realization that it is time to depart this mortal sod.  I spent most of the last year isolating myself from friends and colleagues, not in an antisocial manner, but rather spinning a web of stories as a way detachment not to be included in various circles. I’ve done quite well masking a friendly, but distant front, while inwardly scheming of ways to end it all.
I stumbled here after reading about helium and bag system. It sounded like a perfect method compared to the horrid scenarios I had contemplated that included things like a fast car and a bridge pillar, or even holding a long sharp knife to my chest and roll down a hill….dear me. There was a short period not that long ago where I considered renting a fishing boat and hoist myself overboard strapped to a large, heavy sandbag….dear me. There are many other situations I envisioned, but even though I am not my biggest fan, taking my own life under these conditions would be far too gruesome, I mean, I wouldn’t do something like that to my worse enemy.
Anyway, I have no family, no kids, the ex wife has moved on with her new loved one, my business has deteriorated to nothing more than a liability and friends don’t call anymore. I could easily disappear for months before someone would raise the alarm bell.  I’ve just had a revelation…..There isn’t anyone or thing that I am not in love with. Oh, my gosh.  How pathetic is that?
I had intended to ask for your advise, but it seems rather mute now…. Oh, I remember, Helium.  My plan is to exit within the confines of my car parked in some quiet wooded area. I don’t want to do it at home due to unpleasant odors and the stigma of a deceased person in a rented house may affect future renting possibilities for the owner. They are nice people. So, what difficulties would I encounter setting up a helium and bag in my car? Other considerations?
Sorry for the long, drawn out dribble, but I do appreciate your comments.
I’ve started this post and deleted multiple times since I first logged in. Because the truth is I read the description for schizoid personality disorder but I haven’t been diagnosed, and if I do have it, I probably won’t be diagnosed because there is no way I’m going to talk to someone about this. And no one will probably guess I feel this way because of the way I act. Nearly all the time around other people I can smile, joke, and get along just fine. I don’t feel anxious talking to people and can communicate fine, about things that don’t matter. Work, school, the weather, jokes, what do I care if we talk about things like that? They are easy to relate to, bring up the topic and I’m good. But feelings, personal plans, thoughts that I care about? Those are walled up and no one gets them. I clam up if someone brings them up and do my best to change the subject or just nod my head in agreement about what they’re saying.
The description reads, “a pervasive pattern of detachment from social relationships and a restricted range of expression of emotions in interpersonal settings.” Which kinda fits. I do not get angry, and if I do its over something inconsequential that after thinking about it for a little while I’ll get over and default to normal quite quickly. I hang out with people outside of work and school probably once or twice a month, and I am almost never the one to initiate it. They show up at my door or call me saying they miss me and I go along for the ride. I do end up enjoying myself for a bit, but if I’m out of the house for too long I withdraw and get “angsty” as they call me. If I’m ever hanging out with a large group of people, I wait until no one is paying attention and then slip away to be alone for a bit and psych myself back up to deal with them. Because I don’t feel anxious talking, but people do make me anxious. I get claustrophobic in crowds very easily. If I’m surrounded, I start to stress and even get a little afraid until I sneak off.
A big part of the description that rings true to me is the introversion, “By the very meaning of the term the schizoid is described as cut off from the world of outer reality in an emotional sense. All this libidinal desire and striving is directed inward toward internal objects and he lives an intense inner life often revealed in an astonishing wealth and richness of fantasy and imaginative life whenever that becomes accessible to observation.” I get caught up in introspection a lot. I will over-analyze everything I do and constantly yell at myself for screwing up, that I know I can do better. I spend a lot of my thinking time about things that could happen one day. I have some fantasies, mostly of being rich and not having to work anymore, but I know they are not likely to happen. But the largest part is about things that could happen with other people. I practice conversations in my head all the time. It really helps to talk to other people if I’m prepared for something they’re likely to say. And it works for me, the conversations I actually have with the people I practiced in my head don’t always fit, but having practiced it, I know what I’m going to say and can change it up for the actual conversation with a smaller effort than it would have taken to respond to an unpracticed conversation.
Another part of the description is a feeling of superiority, which I hate. But even the description fits well, that “”a sense of superiority naturally goes with self-sufficiency. One has no need of other people, they can be dispensed with…Â It is a feeling of being vertically displaced, rather than horizontally at a distance.” That I do feel superior to people every now and then, though I always berate myself for a time afterwards for thinking it because I know I am not superior even if I think it at the time, but its mostly in the things that other people seem to need that I don’t. I feel the tiniest bit superior whenever someone talks about their latest relationship disaster, their caffeine addiction, the want to get drunk/high, their need to get a boy/girlfriend soon, about how they feel about not being invited to a party, how they couldn’t get the latest phone/computer/game, or about how they feel awful for not talking to someone for a while, etc. I feel awful for thinking it, but I do. Because they’re all things I can do without quite easily. The battery on my phone died three weeks ago and I left it at home. I still haven’t charged it. I don’t feel the need to carry it with me, I had only been getting invitations from friends I’d been ignoring so I just stopped using the phone. Its a six year old flip phone, and every time someone talks about their newest smart phone or their insane bill, I feel just a bit superior that I get by with my old phone just as well as they do. And now, with no phone at all.
And the final part that I can talk about that really rings true is the self-sufficiency with, “The more that schizoids can rely on themselves, the less they have to rely on other people and so expose themselves to the potential dangers and anxieties associated with that reliance.” And I hate relying on other people or asking for help. They don’t owe me anything, and I feel awful for inconveniencing someone else. Its the reason I’ve been paying all of my bills since I turned 18, the reason I haven’t applied for financial aid (I get by well enough without it), the reason my bosses like me (I do plenty of extra work to make sure I can finish everything), the reason I can’t let someone buy me a meal or a present without a fight (or at least I just walk away and pay for it myself before they know what I’m doing). I aim for self-sufficiency. Its one of the few goals I actually keep up with, because if I can’t rely on myself then what happens when someone I do rely on asks for something I can’t do or I find I can’t deal with them anymore?
I guess the point is, does anyone else get this way? I just wanted to finally say this somewhere and who knows… maybe it will help.
With a heartbeat
dragged screaming from my rest
They cut me short.
Im a God whore now
Hiding under desks to hide away from people.
Whats with this Shyness
No dont do that
No Dont think that
Its Gods Will
Its wrong
Its Evil
They Laugh
They are Happy
Have Friends
They all going to hell
What is this wall
I can see you
What is wrong with me
Where is your sense of pride boy
Happy moments
Sad sack
There are people I love so much
And I just do.
Sometime I think they just get shit on.
I Cry
Days of spontaneity
Love Lost
Friendship Lost
lust Lost
blurs
Always in my mind
I live in my head
Peering out
Through a window of detachment.
Available
Used
Discarded
Love
Unappreciated
Unable to understand
Of science is beautiful
the most complex can be undone
can be reworked
redesigned
improved
But this Humpty Dumpty cant
Be put back together again
Doesn’t want to be put back together again
Just so angry
smile
pretend
haha
sound convincing?
just wants to feel good
to forget
to fade to black
to go away
Love
To be numb
To be void
To be at rest
Mine Not yours Not Gods
Still a heart bleating
Be it a heart bleeding
I just don’t understand people. It’s like everyone else got some guidebook to human behavior and my copy got lost in the mail. Maybe I’m a cynic, but god, it’s just easier to assume the worst of people than expect the best and end up disappointed. My closest friend is moving in a few months, to a city four hours away. I know I should spend the time with her now while she’s here, but I . . . can’t. Every time I talk to her I just end up lost somewhere between crying and absolute detachment. I’m treating her like she’s already gone; it’s hurting her and not helping me, but I don’t know how to stop. I miss her and she hasn’t left yet. I’m happy for her — damn it, I will be — but the transition is hell. I never thought she’d go, and I let myself get too attached. So now I’m pushing anyone who matters, because if Cassy can go (leave me . .) so can will everyone else. A friend from work asked if I was okay and I snapped at him, “What the hell do you care?” and I don’t believe him when he says he just does. I want to, I want to believe people just care for no reason at all. But they don’t, and it hurts too much to believe.