I will sound kind of repetitive. I do this thread anyway because I am suffering a lot today.
I see many parallels of my mind to people who have committed suicide. In which situations they were and which feelings they were exposed to.
I read a lot of stories. Here come my comparisons.
I could relate to Adam Maier Clayton (a right to die activist) when he described his pain. He had severe pain. I am not sure whether our pain were on a similar level but he described it as torturous, without any breaks, psychosomatic (I think), no relief, lethal to most humans and almost impossible to cope with. He said stuff like most other people would have killed themselves way earlier. (when he got arrogant remarks from other people). I also think many people would have killed themselves earlier in my case. I try to fight but life is too cynical.
Chester Bennington on abuse and traumata. There is an interview he gave to a German yellow press outlet. He was pretty pretty depressed, suicidal and honest in this interview. it is something most managers would try to hide. Though it felt very authentic to me. I could relate to it a lot. He was close to rock bottom at the time and he used irony and jokes to cope with it. Something I do a lot too.
"Sarcasm and jokes were often the bottle in which clinical depressives sent out their most plangent screams for someone to care and help them."
So here comes the connection to the next person when we talk about coping with jokes. This quote is from David Foster Wallace. And I have the feeling my mental hell is similar to his. I think when we look at the mental pain it might have been worse for him. Though I have many material sorrows and psychosomatic pain.
I think he knew very early that there is no escape for him. He desperately tried to find a way to live. In one of my favorite stories "Good Old Neon" he describes the suicide of a guy named David Wallace and what led to this step. He described all the things he tried in order to find a way to live. Personally I have a similar attitude. I think life is worth fighting for. Though my life spits me in the face for doing so. It feels like being under water. I want to breathe air but the water is frozen. I am slowly dying a tormenting death with barely anything that can make me feel somewhat good. All the anxiety, pressure and pain that accompanies almost every single day is inhuman. I don't deserve all this shit. It is not my fault that I am exposed to so much suffering.
I think my mind is a pretty torturous instrument. It is a prison with no escape. I don't like journeys maybe that is the reason. My prison always accompanies no matter where my location is. My consciousness is a nasty place. There is so much pain and suffering. These racing thoughts, over-analyzing, barely any breaks is hellish. My mind is always in a self-destruction mode. It feels like my life was in danger and my most primitive insticts are hyperalert. Writing exams feels like a fight for survival. Though the fact that these exams can trigger psychosis prove that they have the potential of being lethal for me.
I am so much fucked mentally beyond repair. I don't think my suicide will be a salvation. Rather an act out of extreme despair of someone who is completely with his back against the wall with no hope for a better life.
I see many parallels of my mind to people who have committed suicide. In which situations they were and which feelings they were exposed to.
I read a lot of stories. Here come my comparisons.
I could relate to Adam Maier Clayton (a right to die activist) when he described his pain. He had severe pain. I am not sure whether our pain were on a similar level but he described it as torturous, without any breaks, psychosomatic (I think), no relief, lethal to most humans and almost impossible to cope with. He said stuff like most other people would have killed themselves way earlier. (when he got arrogant remarks from other people). I also think many people would have killed themselves earlier in my case. I try to fight but life is too cynical.
Chester Bennington on abuse and traumata. There is an interview he gave to a German yellow press outlet. He was pretty pretty depressed, suicidal and honest in this interview. it is something most managers would try to hide. Though it felt very authentic to me. I could relate to it a lot. He was close to rock bottom at the time and he used irony and jokes to cope with it. Something I do a lot too.
"Sarcasm and jokes were often the bottle in which clinical depressives sent out their most plangent screams for someone to care and help them."
So here comes the connection to the next person when we talk about coping with jokes. This quote is from David Foster Wallace. And I have the feeling my mental hell is similar to his. I think when we look at the mental pain it might have been worse for him. Though I have many material sorrows and psychosomatic pain.
I think he knew very early that there is no escape for him. He desperately tried to find a way to live. In one of my favorite stories "Good Old Neon" he describes the suicide of a guy named David Wallace and what led to this step. He described all the things he tried in order to find a way to live. Personally I have a similar attitude. I think life is worth fighting for. Though my life spits me in the face for doing so. It feels like being under water. I want to breathe air but the water is frozen. I am slowly dying a tormenting death with barely anything that can make me feel somewhat good. All the anxiety, pressure and pain that accompanies almost every single day is inhuman. I don't deserve all this shit. It is not my fault that I am exposed to so much suffering.
I think my mind is a pretty torturous instrument. It is a prison with no escape. I don't like journeys maybe that is the reason. My prison always accompanies no matter where my location is. My consciousness is a nasty place. There is so much pain and suffering. These racing thoughts, over-analyzing, barely any breaks is hellish. My mind is always in a self-destruction mode. It feels like my life was in danger and my most primitive insticts are hyperalert. Writing exams feels like a fight for survival. Though the fact that these exams can trigger psychosis prove that they have the potential of being lethal for me.
I am so much fucked mentally beyond repair. I don't think my suicide will be a salvation. Rather an act out of extreme despair of someone who is completely with his back against the wall with no hope for a better life.
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