tinymoon
Member
- Feb 6, 2023
- 9
This is mostly a vent. A few years back, I was too mentally ill to work and dropped out of grad school in a spectacular fashion that ruined my chances of ever going back. I was so close to killing myself around that time, thought about it constantly, took concrete action to plan and take care of my affairs, was institutionalized a few times and tried a plethora of psychiatric meds, but obviously I didn't. I now am working a decent job that I've been promoted into, my financial and living situation are a lot better than it used to be, but I'm still totally miserable. In order for me to have any functionality, I have to suppress enough of myself that there's a giant void in me. I have to purposely and thoroughly gut myself. If I don't do this, the amount of disgust and dissatisfaction I have for daily life and myself is crippling. I thought I might be able to figure out how to be myself and still hold down a job, but I haven't yet, and my stress levels are reaching a point in which I'm tempted to do something drastic and self-destructive, like quit without any back-up plan. I hate most of my daily interactions. I hate the amount of mundane complaints and bureaucracy I have to address. I hate how boring my work is and how many hours I spend there. I hate how I do the same thing everyday and that all my passions are out of reach. I've been trying so hard to do things for myself, keep up with my creative habits with writing and taking art classes, going out to spend time with people and do interesting/fun things - concerts, museums, events, clubs, whatever - but all the satisfaction I gain from these is dull, faraway, and ephemeral, like smoke behind glass. Writing does make me feel something, but it's hard for me to do it when I'm so empty. The worst part is, under different circumstances, life could be so beautiful and fulfilling, but I'm just not the type of person capable of living that way. Most of all, I hate myself. I feel trapped and hopeless. Sometimes I wish I had just killed myself a few years ago because it feels much harder now that my life isn't as bad as it used to be. I just don't feel like I'm meant for any of this. I wish I could stay in my room for a year.
