This is a quote from a Lil Peep song. Maybe it is unnecessary to start a thread just for that. But it captures a feeling I often have. My friends or dad are often scared to die. They ruminate about a possible war, to lose everything, are scared to lose life. I never had this anxiety. I can remember as a teenager my mind developed in another direction probably due to abuse and bullying. When I heared that people died in the news I always made jokes to other people. Nowadays I stopped doing that. I don't think I always acted morally good as a teenager. I was hypomanic and wanted to provoke people. I can remember I made a joke when there was an airplane crash. Secretly I envied the people who died. I imagined to be in this airplane and when everyone was scared to die I would just having a fun time. I really developed a desire to die. I wished soemthing would take the burden from me doing this to myself.
There was always this fear of being different. Of being not normal. I felt as if I did not belong to all these happy people. It felt and feels sometimes like an alienation. Maybe existential loneliness. My life experience is just so much different from all my peers. My sorrows overwhelm me. The extreme pressure I experience daily is torturous. I see how lighthearted my friends talk about video games.(I envy that a lot). And I am experiencing my personal hell every single day. The thing is am doing way better compared to the time at rock bottom. But I am far far aways of feeling good. I think the standard of my life quality is simply pretty low. I am kind of used to it but at the same time I am very tired of it.
It really helped me to open up about it. It was very relieving to talk with my friends about it. I also got support from professionals. I also made negative experiences but I never regretted to open up to them. The medication which I get also improves my mental state a lot.
But there is still this desire. I am just such a broken person. It seems like I only consist of pathological and compulsory behavior. There is not much space for being just me. I am doing a balancing act when I try to recover. If I make one wrong move I might have to kill myself. Or at least experiencing this absolutely insane psychosomatic pain again. The pain really traumatized me. In the end I have the feeling I am unable to fully control it. There are so many developments in my brain which just seem to be inevitable. I think there were some developments in the past 1,5 years which improved my life quality a lot. (on the surface) But I have the feeling it just started another cycle. That the good period will always have an end and that this more or less the inner logic of my illness. (bipolar)
But there is also the inner logic of my suicidality. That I get more and more serious about suicide after each psychosis/manic episode/rock bottom however you wanna call it. I am seeing all this happening and I cannot change it. I love David Foster Wallace description of Kafka's A Little Fable. It captures my desperation and dilemma very accurately. WIth every step I am doing I come closer to the edge/wall without escape. There is no direction where I can go so that I avoid my cynical and brutal end. And in the end the joke will be on me. I will realize that all steps I have been taken just let me come closer to the edge. That most decisions I made could not prevent it. That all this insane pressure was in vain.
Or worse: I am blaming myself in the end for my mistakes. I try to avoid that. I am tryng so hard to avoid suicide so that I can kill myself without a guilty conscience. I hope I can die without blaming myself for it. That my family and friends have to suffer due to me. I hope I can die at peace someday. But I rather think pity and sadness will accompany me. Why exactly had it to be? Why was my life so hellish? What have I done to deserve that?
There was always this fear of being different. Of being not normal. I felt as if I did not belong to all these happy people. It felt and feels sometimes like an alienation. Maybe existential loneliness. My life experience is just so much different from all my peers. My sorrows overwhelm me. The extreme pressure I experience daily is torturous. I see how lighthearted my friends talk about video games.(I envy that a lot). And I am experiencing my personal hell every single day. The thing is am doing way better compared to the time at rock bottom. But I am far far aways of feeling good. I think the standard of my life quality is simply pretty low. I am kind of used to it but at the same time I am very tired of it.
It really helped me to open up about it. It was very relieving to talk with my friends about it. I also got support from professionals. I also made negative experiences but I never regretted to open up to them. The medication which I get also improves my mental state a lot.
But there is still this desire. I am just such a broken person. It seems like I only consist of pathological and compulsory behavior. There is not much space for being just me. I am doing a balancing act when I try to recover. If I make one wrong move I might have to kill myself. Or at least experiencing this absolutely insane psychosomatic pain again. The pain really traumatized me. In the end I have the feeling I am unable to fully control it. There are so many developments in my brain which just seem to be inevitable. I think there were some developments in the past 1,5 years which improved my life quality a lot. (on the surface) But I have the feeling it just started another cycle. That the good period will always have an end and that this more or less the inner logic of my illness. (bipolar)
But there is also the inner logic of my suicidality. That I get more and more serious about suicide after each psychosis/manic episode/rock bottom however you wanna call it. I am seeing all this happening and I cannot change it. I love David Foster Wallace description of Kafka's A Little Fable. It captures my desperation and dilemma very accurately. WIth every step I am doing I come closer to the edge/wall without escape. There is no direction where I can go so that I avoid my cynical and brutal end. And in the end the joke will be on me. I will realize that all steps I have been taken just let me come closer to the edge. That most decisions I made could not prevent it. That all this insane pressure was in vain.
Or worse: I am blaming myself in the end for my mistakes. I try to avoid that. I am tryng so hard to avoid suicide so that I can kill myself without a guilty conscience. I hope I can die without blaming myself for it. That my family and friends have to suffer due to me. I hope I can die at peace someday. But I rather think pity and sadness will accompany me. Why exactly had it to be? Why was my life so hellish? What have I done to deserve that?
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