Venting Life is falling away

[SchrodingerIsDed]

As I get closer, I can feel significance start to dwindle. Less than 3 weeks left. I thought I was already numb, but I can see that there are layers to numbness, too. I'm not feeling much of anything. Blank.

My attachment to the world is slowly retracting. I'm caring less. Of course, I've upped my dose of xanax. I really shouldn't. I need all of it for my final plunge into the depths of the empty. But I also don't want to live my final days in terror or in withdrawal.

There is something internal to me that has been desperately reaching out for life, reaching out to hope. There must be some way out of this mess I've made. There must be some way to survive, still, to thrive. I don't quit easily. I'm not one who allows themselves to surrender to anything, even my own whims. And yet, here I find myself at the precipice, finally giving up, like a beat dog. Undignified. The realization of my failures, my ineptitude, my inability to keep myself alive come crashing down on me like the loudest thunderstorm piercing the quietest night. There is nothing I can do to avoid this outcome. I lost...

I had a handful of years where I got to pretend to be a normal person. That was a blessing. But death has always held my hand. Maybe that is why the world has rejected me so completely. It knows I am not of its kind. My true identity has been known to the world even before it was known to me. I am darkness I am pain I am death.

A sense of hopelessness envelops me, a hot-cold embrace. And fatigue. Much fatigue. Like my body knows that it no longer has to fight for much longer.

I don't feel like eating. Don't feel like drinking. All I want to do is lay down and flip through TikToks. That I can do. But I lack the energy for anything else of significance. Even pursuing the items of my self-destruction, which was a key energy generator for me for the past two months holds no charm or interest. I don't know what this is. I don't get listless like this. I don't even care to write this right now. I just don't care.

Everything and everyone abandoned me. Or actively sought my destruction. There's no point to anything.

 

[Alexei_Kirillov]

Your post really resonated; the same thing happened to me in the weeks before my attempt. The only difference is that for me, CTB was the exact opposite of an undignified resignation. Existence itself was what was beating me up, so continuing to live would have meant just lying there and taking the beating, whereas CTB constituted a final stand, a final assertion of dignity.

Godspeed.

 

[tartvinegar]

I feel exactly the same way, down to all I can do is scroll TikTok's and try to numb myself. I'm also exhausted and tired. I too was pretending to be normal for so long and I almost succeeded until came crashing down. I feel like a failure and there's a mental catalogue in my head that counts every single mistake I've made, all the people who hate me or who have judged me. It's crushing.

It's horrible that you feel this way, it's an awful feeling, an awful existence, but it's comforting to know that I'm not alone in feeling this way and that someone else is experience the same thing.

 

[SchrodingerIsDed]

Your post really resonated; the same thing happened to me in the weeks before my attempt. The only difference is that for me, CTB was the exact opposite of an undignified resignation. Existence itself was what was beating me up, so continuing to live would have meant just lying there and taking the beating, whereas CTB constituted a final stand, a final assertion of dignity.

Godspeed.

I really like that reasoning. :)

Thank you.

It's horrible that you feel this way, it's an awful feeling, an awful existence, but it's comforting to know that I'm not alone in feeling this way and that someone else is experience the same thing.

It is. Likewise, it is good to know someone knows what it feels like and can sympathize, or perhaps even empathize. :)

 

[Michi_Violeta]

It's you again, with your powerful and well-written words, with those thoughts that echo mine and make me feel a bit closer to my decision.

Indeed, it's a gradual process and it's only made harder by that something internal that clings to life. I'm tired of it. I've gotten to the point, I don't know if this has happened to anyone here, in which I developed a twitch when certain "positive" thoughts intrude in my mind and I end up saying "SHUT UP!" out loud. I know my reasons for being suicidal, I know how hurt I am after my ex left me and my childhood dream became something impossible to materialize. My subconscious seems to think different, it wants me to keep on fighting: It's like you're saying, it talks to me about ways out, about a new life, about moving forwards yet again. I'm too tired, man, I don't have the strength to keep going after realizing this past 8 years brought me back to the same point: broken heart, broken racecar, broken dreams.

I've done the work, I've made friends, I've studied, I've lived abroad, I gave myself chances, and life just kicked me in the balls and people tell me I need to do MORE WORK. A la mierda, what else do they want from us? I always kept going, I always got back up. Not this time, please, not again. I know how the movie ends, there's no happy ending for me. Not now, not after all these failures that may or may have not been my fault but which have traumatized me anyways.

In an odd way, I sort of envy you because —in our line of thinking— you're making progress towards ctb. Lack of will, lack of pleasure, just the motivation to carry on with your final decision. Regardless of you choosing to live and do the work or you end up ctb'ing, I wish you the peace you deserve.

Your post really resonated; the same thing happened to me in the weeks before my attempt. The only difference is that for me, CTB was the exact opposite of an undignified resignation. Existence itself was what was beating me up, so continuing to live would have meant just lying there and taking the beating, whereas CTB constituted a final stand, a final assertion of dignity.

Godspeed.

This is exactly the way I'm feeling, thank you for sharing your thoughts. I know my life isn't completely fucked up, but it keeps constantly denying me what I want no matter how much effort I put into it and people just tell me to do more work. I don't want to keep taking this beating, I don't deserve this. I tried. I failed. Fuck it, let me leave with dignity.

 

[SchrodingerIsDed]

It's you again, with your powerful and well-written words, with those thoughts that echo mine and make me feel a bit closer to my decision.

Indeed, it's a gradual process and it's only made harder by that something internal that clings to life. I'm tired of it. I've gotten to the point, I don't know if this has happened to anyone here, in which I developed a twitch when certain "positive" thoughts intrude in my mind and I end up saying "SHUT UP!" out loud. I know my reasons for being suicidal, I know how hurt I am after my ex left me and my childhood dream became something impossible to materialize. My subconscious seems to think different, it wants me to keep on fighting: It's like you're saying, it talks to me about ways out, about a new life, about moving forwards yet again. I'm too tired, man, I don't have the strength to keep going after realizing this past 8 years brought me back to the same point: broken heart, broken racecar, broken dreams.

This is exactly the way I'm feeling, thank you for sharing your thoughts. I know my life isn't completely fucked up, but it keeps constantly denying me what I want no matter how much effort I put into it and people just tell me to do more work. I don't want to keep taking this beating, I don't deserve this. I tried. I failed. Fuck it, let me leave with dignity.

You are too kind. Thank you.

I haven't developed a twitch, but I do feel the despondence at joy or happiness which I admonish as it happens or shortly after. The tiredness is quite significant, yes. Just an endless cycle, repeating itself over and over again. If one problem is solved, it simply generates more problems.

Absolutely. And thank you for your thoughts, as well. :)

I've done the work, I've made friends, I've studied, I've lived abroad, I gave myself chances, and life just kicked me in the balls and people tell me I need to do MORE WORK. A la mierda, what else do they want from us? I always kept going, I always got back up. Not this time, please, not again.

Yes, the subconscious just never gives up even when it should know that there's no other options. You've given yourself a lot of chances! Wow. Very well lived.

I know how the movie ends, there's no happy ending for me. Not now, not after all these failures that may or may have not been my fault but which have traumatized me anyways.

:(

In an odd way, I sort of envy you because —in our line of thinking— you're making progress towards ctb. Lack of will, lack of pleasure, just the motivation to carry on with your final decision. Regardless of you choosing to live and do the work or you end up ctb'ing, I wish you the peace you deserve.

I am making progress. I believe it will be a sure thing. But you never know in this life....

 

[Crematoryy]

Indeed, it's a gradual process and it's only made harder by that something internal that clings to life. I'm tired of it. I've gotten to the point, I don't know if this has happened to anyone here, in which I developed a twitch when certain "positive" thoughts intrude in my mind and I end up saying "SHUT UP!" out loud. I know my reasons for being suicidal, I know how hurt I am after my ex left me and my childhood dream became something impossible to materialize. My subconscious seems to think different, it wants me to keep on fighting: It's like you're saying, it talks to me about ways out, about a new life, about moving forwards yet again. I'm too tired, man, I don't have the strength to keep going after realizing this past 8 years brought me back to the same point: broken heart, broken racecar, broken dreams.

If you have developed this "nervous tic" then your mind is really worn out. I have a similar experience thinking about what I could have avoided. An instinct of self-hatred sets in and makes my hands tremble.