I guess the intro says it all.
I mean, what can you say for a forum called "sanctionedsuicide" other than a hand of bad luck that brought you here. We are all friends on the same sphere of existence. No matter where we are in the world, we are so connected by a single string that can make thousands of miles like an arm distance away. It reminds me to the study of string theory whereby each space particle can be mapped to coincide with a different one as if they are next to each other. Unfortunately, although close, we are lost.
I ask myself everyday "how did my life get so fucked up", "how did it turn to dross", "will I ever be able to pick myself up again". I am glad you asked...
You might know me as TOCP, tiredofchronicpain. I really don't mind what you call me. Some refer to me as "the guy". I sometimes want to disappear like in the novel from Cormack McCarthy "the road" where a boy and man whom no identity is available to be known to the reader, the 2 protagonists known as by merely "the boy" and "the man". Maybe that is what we became - NOTHING. So who am I, figuratively speaking? I have lived on this planet for 29 years now, male. I have a story like everyone on here - one with a lot of tails attached to it. I once loved life. To keep it short, I was born with a vivid imagination in a loving home. I always had the skill of entertaining myself, and seeing through every situation. I would talk to myself coming from school, and imaging people in front of me. I probably had 3 friends they called "imaginary" throughout school. To me they were more real than anything I knew of in the material reality. The school days were sunny in the summer, cold in the winter, and fun for me, in spite of the season. I remember the coffee and the fish paste bread with ketchup everyday I came home; our maid, who was like a mother to me, made me a pair everyday as a routine. I would watch the cartoons they now know as "Boomerang" to an old TV they would call 'sub-par' in quality. I was happy where I am, walking out with a purpose, helping people, kids, standing up for my community. I was the perfect example every mother wanted her kid to be. It was more than enough to me.
One day, when I left home to go to school, the teachers were extremely concerned about me. They told me that my social development was slow and that I do things that offend them and the kids around me. Initially I did not understand what they meant, but after the worried look in their eyes, they told me that I am "different". I came home and cried...
Fast forward 10 years, I am approaching the end of my school years. At the end of the December vacation, problems started to arise. We immigrated to Australia as a family and I soon started feeling depersonalised; panic attacks and anxiety sweeped me from underneath my feet. I wasn't the same person ever again. I started studying soon after, and the anxiety destroyed me. I hardly could focus in class. I messed up in group-work and became the group clown no matter where I went. This shadow of failure followed me. I got laughed at for saying stupid things and was ridiculed to the max. Somehow after all the stress, I realised this wasn't going to be an easy life for me. The only way forward was a pressure tunnel - pressing forward and onwards, there was no backwards. I realised the horned dilemma - I was toasted either way...
So after all the bullshit, we moved around, being immigrants for at 5 years, I got my Australian citizenship and finished my studies. I am still surprised after all the anxiety, I was able to achieve one of the most difficult degrees at University. But I soon realised I was one of the oldest to complete my degree, and my life was over before it began, and I haven't even lived yet.
Fast forward 15 years. I am looking at 27 now - when I look back to my youth and shake my head. I miss the old days. I just want to be young once more, but i know it is running a fools errand; cannot get my time back anymore.
After years of being bullied, harassed, maltreated, I eventually realised I will never be the old me, i started getting into philosophy. I believed there was wisdom to be found out there. But needing-less to say, I was wrong. Every door I opened, I realised I am being checkmated by reality.
I am a recent Engineering graduate, I am depressed as hell. I suffer nostalgia, chronic pain, anxiety, body dysmorphic disorder. This wasn't the life I knew.
I flirt with the idea of just pressing a magic button and ending this life for good, but things aren't that easy always.
I am now one of those old people everyone despises - 'back in my day, the wheel turned the other way'. Yeah, I had a chance to be born again and start a future. As a kid, I lived the enigma of an american dream, grew up with a plan, and sticked to it. When I think about my childhood, I remember the forests, the beautiful treehouse I built, with the rich imaginative stories I told my siblings and cousins as we sat around the campire, grilling our marshmallows and laughing at the jokes in the moment. What has this gotten to?
How did the categorical imperative of a life so rich and meaningful turn to a life so devoid of any meaning whatsoever.
At the other end of the view, if I die, what about all the people caring for me. I cannot live knowing how they will suffer.
Day in and day out, I tear up looking at my family of present. how old they have gotten. My aunt, She was always there for me. Like a guardian angel. I hate seeing how old she gets, her skin gets so frail. She suffers asthma daily, pain, and bladder problems.
I hate seeing how my family and the people I love are so destroyed by pain and the decay rate of time.
A poster on this forum synonymously said how she hates that life isn't truly beautiful. I concur with that. It is probably one of the most horrid facts of life - its dichotomous other side of evil that makes the beautiful not that beautiful anymore.
. I hate what I have become. An embodiment of pain and despair.
What is the solution to all of this? Everyday I take a breath to hold the hope of a life that will become better when I know it will not. I hold onto to this little light called 'life' still in front of me, although I know I am a dead man walking.
Alas, all hope is lost...
I mean, what can you say for a forum called "sanctionedsuicide" other than a hand of bad luck that brought you here. We are all friends on the same sphere of existence. No matter where we are in the world, we are so connected by a single string that can make thousands of miles like an arm distance away. It reminds me to the study of string theory whereby each space particle can be mapped to coincide with a different one as if they are next to each other. Unfortunately, although close, we are lost.
I ask myself everyday "how did my life get so fucked up", "how did it turn to dross", "will I ever be able to pick myself up again". I am glad you asked...
You might know me as TOCP, tiredofchronicpain. I really don't mind what you call me. Some refer to me as "the guy". I sometimes want to disappear like in the novel from Cormack McCarthy "the road" where a boy and man whom no identity is available to be known to the reader, the 2 protagonists known as by merely "the boy" and "the man". Maybe that is what we became - NOTHING. So who am I, figuratively speaking? I have lived on this planet for 29 years now, male. I have a story like everyone on here - one with a lot of tails attached to it. I once loved life. To keep it short, I was born with a vivid imagination in a loving home. I always had the skill of entertaining myself, and seeing through every situation. I would talk to myself coming from school, and imaging people in front of me. I probably had 3 friends they called "imaginary" throughout school. To me they were more real than anything I knew of in the material reality. The school days were sunny in the summer, cold in the winter, and fun for me, in spite of the season. I remember the coffee and the fish paste bread with ketchup everyday I came home; our maid, who was like a mother to me, made me a pair everyday as a routine. I would watch the cartoons they now know as "Boomerang" to an old TV they would call 'sub-par' in quality. I was happy where I am, walking out with a purpose, helping people, kids, standing up for my community. I was the perfect example every mother wanted her kid to be. It was more than enough to me.
One day, when I left home to go to school, the teachers were extremely concerned about me. They told me that my social development was slow and that I do things that offend them and the kids around me. Initially I did not understand what they meant, but after the worried look in their eyes, they told me that I am "different". I came home and cried...
Fast forward 10 years, I am approaching the end of my school years. At the end of the December vacation, problems started to arise. We immigrated to Australia as a family and I soon started feeling depersonalised; panic attacks and anxiety sweeped me from underneath my feet. I wasn't the same person ever again. I started studying soon after, and the anxiety destroyed me. I hardly could focus in class. I messed up in group-work and became the group clown no matter where I went. This shadow of failure followed me. I got laughed at for saying stupid things and was ridiculed to the max. Somehow after all the stress, I realised this wasn't going to be an easy life for me. The only way forward was a pressure tunnel - pressing forward and onwards, there was no backwards. I realised the horned dilemma - I was toasted either way...
So after all the bullshit, we moved around, being immigrants for at 5 years, I got my Australian citizenship and finished my studies. I am still surprised after all the anxiety, I was able to achieve one of the most difficult degrees at University. But I soon realised I was one of the oldest to complete my degree, and my life was over before it began, and I haven't even lived yet.
Fast forward 15 years. I am looking at 27 now - when I look back to my youth and shake my head. I miss the old days. I just want to be young once more, but i know it is running a fools errand; cannot get my time back anymore.
After years of being bullied, harassed, maltreated, I eventually realised I will never be the old me, i started getting into philosophy. I believed there was wisdom to be found out there. But needing-less to say, I was wrong. Every door I opened, I realised I am being checkmated by reality.
I am a recent Engineering graduate, I am depressed as hell. I suffer nostalgia, chronic pain, anxiety, body dysmorphic disorder. This wasn't the life I knew.
I flirt with the idea of just pressing a magic button and ending this life for good, but things aren't that easy always.
I am now one of those old people everyone despises - 'back in my day, the wheel turned the other way'. Yeah, I had a chance to be born again and start a future. As a kid, I lived the enigma of an american dream, grew up with a plan, and sticked to it. When I think about my childhood, I remember the forests, the beautiful treehouse I built, with the rich imaginative stories I told my siblings and cousins as we sat around the campire, grilling our marshmallows and laughing at the jokes in the moment. What has this gotten to?
How did the categorical imperative of a life so rich and meaningful turn to a life so devoid of any meaning whatsoever.
At the other end of the view, if I die, what about all the people caring for me. I cannot live knowing how they will suffer.
Day in and day out, I tear up looking at my family of present. how old they have gotten. My aunt, She was always there for me. Like a guardian angel. I hate seeing how old she gets, her skin gets so frail. She suffers asthma daily, pain, and bladder problems.
I hate seeing how my family and the people I love are so destroyed by pain and the decay rate of time.
A poster on this forum synonymously said how she hates that life isn't truly beautiful. I concur with that. It is probably one of the most horrid facts of life - its dichotomous other side of evil that makes the beautiful not that beautiful anymore.
. I hate what I have become. An embodiment of pain and despair.
What is the solution to all of this? Everyday I take a breath to hold the hope of a life that will become better when I know it will not. I hold onto to this little light called 'life' still in front of me, although I know I am a dead man walking.
Alas, all hope is lost...
