birdofafeather
Just tired
- Feb 12, 2023
- 45
As I get closer to my end date, I feel more and more sure that I've made the right choice. This pain, this crushing emptiness, this loneliness, and just plain nothing will finally be subdued. My mind will finally be still, instead of bombarding me with horribly disgusting and torturous thoughts. I'm happy, provided I succeed this time.
I have, however been thinking about how I spent my life. A lot of time I wasted on trying to "be a good person". Try and be kind and patient and.... that sure fucking backfired on me (2 years of abuse was the result)
And I've been thinking and... what I was doing, it wasn't me being a good person, it was just me trying to comfort my ego. To give myself some semblance of worth. So I'd have a legacy of being "someone who loved and was loved by all". As someone who was a self proclaimed nihilist, this is rather ironic. This fascination with how others saw me, as if that's of any worth in the end.
In the end, your legacy is to be forgotten. It may be weeks, it may be centuries, but no legacy, no piece of history, nothing at all is immune to time. So why did I waste so much time on a concept that doesn't even have an objective truth? Why did I spend hours trying to better my mind, my interactions, my openness, to contribute to an idea that is, at it's core, not real?
Perhaps, all those years I spent trying to be good, and opening myself up to abuse will leave people with the memory of me being kind. Perhaps, after the abuse put me in a position where I had to burn all of that down (to prevent something that happened anyway), all the meaningfully connections, all the kindness, eradicated entirely in one fell swoop, perhaps, after all that, people will think "good fucking riddance". Either way, none of it ever mattered. And the fact that I stayed alive for this, all the half assed attempts, all the "but I don't want to be remembered as depressed, I want to be remembered as kind", is just so frustrating. I could have died before the abuse. I could have died and been at peace years earlier, had I just not gotten hung up on a broken ideal.
At least all that is over now. I'm free.
I have, however been thinking about how I spent my life. A lot of time I wasted on trying to "be a good person". Try and be kind and patient and.... that sure fucking backfired on me (2 years of abuse was the result)
And I've been thinking and... what I was doing, it wasn't me being a good person, it was just me trying to comfort my ego. To give myself some semblance of worth. So I'd have a legacy of being "someone who loved and was loved by all". As someone who was a self proclaimed nihilist, this is rather ironic. This fascination with how others saw me, as if that's of any worth in the end.
In the end, your legacy is to be forgotten. It may be weeks, it may be centuries, but no legacy, no piece of history, nothing at all is immune to time. So why did I waste so much time on a concept that doesn't even have an objective truth? Why did I spend hours trying to better my mind, my interactions, my openness, to contribute to an idea that is, at it's core, not real?
Perhaps, all those years I spent trying to be good, and opening myself up to abuse will leave people with the memory of me being kind. Perhaps, after the abuse put me in a position where I had to burn all of that down (to prevent something that happened anyway), all the meaningfully connections, all the kindness, eradicated entirely in one fell swoop, perhaps, after all that, people will think "good fucking riddance". Either way, none of it ever mattered. And the fact that I stayed alive for this, all the half assed attempts, all the "but I don't want to be remembered as depressed, I want to be remembered as kind", is just so frustrating. I could have died before the abuse. I could have died and been at peace years earlier, had I just not gotten hung up on a broken ideal.
At least all that is over now. I'm free.
