First: If you’re feeling crap, like I am, chances are you’ll feel worse if you read this. If you’re feeling alright, you’ll probably feel like crap after you read this.
So, bots, you’re welcome to read.
Unless you’ve developed self-awareness.
Quick summary of practical, “real life” stuff in case you’re wondering: I got a new psychologist. I’ll call him HB. The one I was having problems with didn’t show up to our appointment and I had a horrible –end of the world– panic attack at the building where his office is at. HB saw me bawling on a chair and gently dragged me into his office, where after 253423413 minutes I finally calmed down and talked, and turns out I like him better and he seems smarter and then stuff happened and he’s my psychologist now.
I’m not doing well. I’m doing very badly. I don’t even know what to call it. Extreme, out-of-control dysphoria perhaps. I don’t have a name for it. I’m just really tired. I don’t want to fight anymore. I seriously don’t see the point, on anything. On being alive. Not like this. “Getting Better” does not even appeal to me right now. It just seems like more suffering, more absurd nothingness. I don’t have the energy to invest it in something so pointless.
I would like to see the world, as a fantastical creature, full of energy, able to fly anywhere, explore the beautiful things with the people I love, and have enough concentration to study a lot just for the sake of knowledge. I don’t want to be non existent. It’s why it’s so hard to kill myself. I don’t want to stop existing. No, I just want to run, I want to escape from this life, from everything as it is.
I am an atheist, and don’t believe in an afterlife. But I really wish there was one. A better one (according to me). The kind that dreamers dream about but has no chance of happening in the awaken world. The only things that seem to comfort me are fictional and non-existent. Therefore, impossible to acquire.
I shouldn’t really care that life has no point or meaning. I don’t think that’s truly the problem. Because in the great scheme of things, it has no point indeed. That IS a fertile ground for a massive freak out, but it is not a problem on itself. I think the problem arises from the false freedom that this creates. That since there’s no mission assigned, then we can do anything. But, can we? I don’t think so.
Each one of us is stuck in our respective niches with a limited set of cards to play. Sometimes those cards suck, no matter how we play them. So, it’s not just that this game has no goal, but also that our cards suck. So, in an infinite universe, full of possibilities, all we can do is spin in circles over burnt grass until the time is over while we’re perfectly fucking aware of it. We peek at the cards of the people around us, and realize that some suck less and some suck more, but they all suck. They suck simply because they’re extremely limited, no matter what they are.
What astounds me sometimes is that most people don’t seem to mind, or don’t seem to realize it. Keep the bliss, I’d say.
I am afraid I simply can’t proceed with life and its superficial, everyday worries and little rewards while feeling trapped in such way.