Just want to vent. Feel free to ignore it. My life is such a hulking piece of shit, even my suicidal 'friends' have given up on trying to help.
So, I find that the more confined (by physical illness), alienated, and emotionally abused I am, the more solipsistic I become. Since I'm not really existing in the 'real' world -- in terms of having any form of recognizable life, with distinguishable moments, feedback to my actions, a life narrative etc. -- the more I lose sense of reality and start to exist entirely in my own head. This makes suicide seem more and more difficult because my interior mind has become my entire world, and I cling to those tiny shredded scraps because the positive memories and sense of my own potential are all that I have left; it's the only way to protect my 'self'. I understand it's a defense mechanism, but it's also making letting go more difficult.
I just can't accept anything anymore. I tell people I'm abused but the emotional reality of recognizing that never sinks in fully. I try to shrug off my own problems. But if I'm literally being forced to kill myself because of how my family and society treated me, how much worse can it get?
I've always been a cerebral person. I like to think things through. I like finding answers, reasons, explanations, logic, order. Dealing with a psycho borderline cunt bitch of a mother completely scrambles any sense of that because there's no reason underlying their reactions or anything they do. The abuse is so random and unpredictable. One example (albeit kinda weird): I have to do enemas because otherwise I literally have no motility (I can go up to 4 days without a bowel movement). Ever since I've started doing them, my mother hounds me, tells me I'm 'disgusting' tries to force me to stop. It literally has no effect on her. Why the fuck does she care? I'm 30 years old, and my bathroom habits have become the province of this intrusive bitch. She made me go see a doctor because I was throwing up blood; then she screamed at me in the car ride home because they couldn't find a cause. She told me I'm choosing to be miserable, and all of this is my doing.
I've spent 3 years just trapped in a room. I don't even feel like I know my own city anymore. If I venture out to kill myself, that's going to be a huge deal .. and I'm so weak, sick and disoriented, I can't afford to seem suspicious or mess up. I don't really know what to do. I have sodium nitrite, but if I try use it at home, that will raise a lot of suspicion. I've had no luck finding a partner to help me. It seems so unfair .. dying because of other people, when it's not what you actually want. Where's the fucking justice? I actually like myself. I want a 'reset'. I want to be happy, healthy, flourish.
So, I find that the more confined (by physical illness), alienated, and emotionally abused I am, the more solipsistic I become. Since I'm not really existing in the 'real' world -- in terms of having any form of recognizable life, with distinguishable moments, feedback to my actions, a life narrative etc. -- the more I lose sense of reality and start to exist entirely in my own head. This makes suicide seem more and more difficult because my interior mind has become my entire world, and I cling to those tiny shredded scraps because the positive memories and sense of my own potential are all that I have left; it's the only way to protect my 'self'. I understand it's a defense mechanism, but it's also making letting go more difficult.
I just can't accept anything anymore. I tell people I'm abused but the emotional reality of recognizing that never sinks in fully. I try to shrug off my own problems. But if I'm literally being forced to kill myself because of how my family and society treated me, how much worse can it get?
I've always been a cerebral person. I like to think things through. I like finding answers, reasons, explanations, logic, order. Dealing with a psycho borderline cunt bitch of a mother completely scrambles any sense of that because there's no reason underlying their reactions or anything they do. The abuse is so random and unpredictable. One example (albeit kinda weird): I have to do enemas because otherwise I literally have no motility (I can go up to 4 days without a bowel movement). Ever since I've started doing them, my mother hounds me, tells me I'm 'disgusting' tries to force me to stop. It literally has no effect on her. Why the fuck does she care? I'm 30 years old, and my bathroom habits have become the province of this intrusive bitch. She made me go see a doctor because I was throwing up blood; then she screamed at me in the car ride home because they couldn't find a cause. She told me I'm choosing to be miserable, and all of this is my doing.
I've spent 3 years just trapped in a room. I don't even feel like I know my own city anymore. If I venture out to kill myself, that's going to be a huge deal .. and I'm so weak, sick and disoriented, I can't afford to seem suspicious or mess up. I don't really know what to do. I have sodium nitrite, but if I try use it at home, that will raise a lot of suspicion. I've had no luck finding a partner to help me. It seems so unfair .. dying because of other people, when it's not what you actually want. Where's the fucking justice? I actually like myself. I want a 'reset'. I want to be happy, healthy, flourish.
