Venting General thread for my venting about wanting death.

[tormentedhusk]

This is a thread for my vents. I was inspired to make this thread by this thread by FuneralCry. https://sanctioned-suicide.net/thre...my-vents-about-wanting-to-die.172577/page-126

 

[tormentedhusk]

I want relief from the pain of existence. Why can't I just die in my sleep?

 

[tormentedhusk]

The Chains are Heavy
Every day feels like an endless loop of pretending to be something I'm not—something happy, something capable. But inside, I'm just exhausted, empty, and filled with a deep sense of futility. People tell us that life is worth living and that happiness is just around the corner, but I've spent too many years searching in vain. All I see is the same hollow routine and the same struggles that never seem to end. Every day feels like an endless loop of pretending to be something I'm not—someone happy, someone capable.
Existence is not a blessing; it's a constant struggle against what pulls us down. This battle never ends, and even when we fight, we still lose. Many people don't understand this. They call us "weak" for wanting peace, but how can wanting peace be a weakness? How can we be wrong for wanting to end our suffering?

 

[tormentedhusk]

Existence is Endless Torment
At times, I find myself pondering whether life is the cruelest experiment ever conceived. Each sunrise arrives like a taunt, heralding yet another day filled with the potential for pain, disappointment, and the gradual erosion of hope. We enter this world without consenting, thrust into a reality that demands we sustain ourselves in bodies that are destined to betray us, in minds that can lead us astray, and in hearts that experience fractures so profound that no amount of medicine or comfort can mend them. The relentless cycle of existence seems designed to test our resilience, leaving us to navigate the shadows of our own fragility while we yearn for moments of joy amidst the turmoil.
I watch the years slip away, feeling the weight of fleeting time as friends and strangers alike cling desperately to the promise of "tomorrow"—as if the arrival of a new dawn can erase the burdensome weight of every regret and loss from the past. They cloak our suffering with well-meaning platitudes like "Your story isn't over" or "There's beauty in the struggle," but I can't help but question: what beauty can emerge from the relentless tide of anxiety that crashes over us, or the profound numbness that follows each shattered dream, leaving us adrift in a sea of unfulfilled hopes? And what of the slow, crushing passage of time, with its unyielding grip, as it presses mercilessly upon our weary hearts and minds?

 

[tormentedhusk]

The Illusion of Hope
Life is an endless struggle with no resolution in view. People say that hope is always present, and that eventually, circumstances will improve, but how many of us have watched that hope diminish as time goes on? We're encouraged to keep waiting for another chance, another opportunity, yet all I observe is a continuation of the same: anguish, grief, and persistent turmoil.
The world anticipates that we will resist everything that attempts to break us. But what if the act of fighting is actually the issue? What if the relentless battle against despair merely exacerbates the wound, preventing us from attaining the tranquility we yearn for? We hear that life is valuable, but what if it's the perpetual anguish and letdown that are truly valuable—valuable only because it keeps us confined here, ensnared by a life we never desired.
To me, Death represents true freedom. In a world filled with endless suffering, where no solution really eases the pain, Death offers a real escape. It is a peaceful end to a life that ignores my deep hurt. I don't trust society's empty promises of hope.