asecretexit
ugh
- Feb 1, 2021
- 9
I've spent the majority of my life contemplating. I remember talking to my mother about questioning why I was alive, and her telling me that I was too young to be thinking like that.
Surprise surprise, I have grown into a resentful and nihilistic adult. God, there is so much on this Earth that is beautiful and that I love. But so much pain; I feel like everyone that comes into my life gets dealt an obscene amount of emotional baggage. I am constantly fighting between the part of myself that wants to live (mainly for the sake of other people in my life), and the part of me that feels like it is inevitable that I will CTB.
Yet, I can't bring myself to attach to any certain method. Everything feels like it will be too painful or irreversible. I feel like I don't belong with the people who want to live, but also don't fit in with those insistent on CTB.
I am torturing myself by prolonging this pain that I've dealt with since being tiny. I wish I could fully commit to being alive and getting the help I need, OR bite the bullet and get on with finding peace. But help is scarce. Help is 2 year waiting lists and weeks and weeks of therapy that is addled with tactless and plastic-feeling questionnaires, meant to quantity the brain. Help is meds that often make you feel worse, or weed out the things that make you feel alive. Help is navigating a world not built for your mind and being told the alternative is hospital, where they hole you up and drug you up.
I am sick of maintaining. I've worked so hard to maintain and accessed the help, I have worked the system time and time again. The system that is so desperately underfunded and doesn't help you until it is too late. I just want to drift away. Curse the human mind for being sentient enough to feel such terror and grief towards our existence, when it is hard-wired to survive.
Surprise surprise, I have grown into a resentful and nihilistic adult. God, there is so much on this Earth that is beautiful and that I love. But so much pain; I feel like everyone that comes into my life gets dealt an obscene amount of emotional baggage. I am constantly fighting between the part of myself that wants to live (mainly for the sake of other people in my life), and the part of me that feels like it is inevitable that I will CTB.
Yet, I can't bring myself to attach to any certain method. Everything feels like it will be too painful or irreversible. I feel like I don't belong with the people who want to live, but also don't fit in with those insistent on CTB.
I am torturing myself by prolonging this pain that I've dealt with since being tiny. I wish I could fully commit to being alive and getting the help I need, OR bite the bullet and get on with finding peace. But help is scarce. Help is 2 year waiting lists and weeks and weeks of therapy that is addled with tactless and plastic-feeling questionnaires, meant to quantity the brain. Help is meds that often make you feel worse, or weed out the things that make you feel alive. Help is navigating a world not built for your mind and being told the alternative is hospital, where they hole you up and drug you up.
I am sick of maintaining. I've worked so hard to maintain and accessed the help, I have worked the system time and time again. The system that is so desperately underfunded and doesn't help you until it is too late. I just want to drift away. Curse the human mind for being sentient enough to feel such terror and grief towards our existence, when it is hard-wired to survive.
