There is something interesting about being depressive and stop feeling sense in life

[Bntep]

When you are not chemically stimulated anymore because of any reason that has left you in depression you perceive that life at all can be thrown away. There is nothing such as meaning, purpose, beauty, or something like that, it is just people following their brain's needs for stimulation and well-being at all. And all those stimuli are ultimately mediocre, even those which can be considered more worthy. It means, at least for me, that it makes sense to persist in life only if you are really feeling such a joy in this. If not, I think it is valid for you to look for some way to end it.
But then comes the problem: I am here, struggling day after day to improve my life and then achieve my goals (which are such things like intellectual achievement and improvement in the life of certain groups of people), just because I cannot kill myself, then I feel the necessity of not letting my life become unbearable, since I am obligated to stay in it.
The psychological pain is getting even worse, existing is being a penance, but I cannot just get free of this suffering, even though I see life that way and get more disgusted with people, culture and life at all each day.
Is there someone who is also struggling with this and wants to share their pain here so somebody or even I can talk to and comfort them?

 

[J&L383]

I hear you. Feeling very similar. I believe you will find similarly minded people here.

 

[Forever Sleep]

I feel exactly this. Being largely dissociated from the world. The world and people partly frighten and partly disgust me. It's weird witnessing yourself care less and less about everything. Some days I feel a marked shift towards the grave.

Yet, at the same time, there's a level I feel I can't dip below. I need to financially sustain myself so that my parents don't get burdened and don't give me a whole load of shit. So- that means working, which means remaining fit enough to work. I let all else that I can lapse until I feel pressured to do it.

My reason for lingering is because I want to wait for my Dad to go first. He's the last remaining person I feel like my suicide would deeply affect. It's a weird limbo, waiting stage. It's really just treading water now. Still making the effort not to drown. Still making the effort not to ask for help from others. A very bizarre feeling though.

An increasingly resentful feeling unfortunately seeing as life and all else that came with it feels like such an imposition now. One that I still feel obliged to suffer for the same person who gave me the problem(s) to begin with.

I think the irony is weird. Many of us are doing all we can to protect the people (our parents) from the same harm and grief they knowingly gave to us. They would have known too- if they'd given it 5 minutes thought. They expect us to cope with their deaths but apparently, they won't be able to cope with ours. I don't really get how they call that love even.