Venting I don't even want to die...I think.

[praythestars]

I've always had a huge fear of death. So much so that it genuinely interferes with my life. And yet...

I routinely have these impulses. Not constantly. But like these...events that happen every six or so years. I vaguely try to die for awhile, eventually I realize it's likely enough to happen and I try to reach out or whatever, and I accept the fate of going IP.

I was in IP just a couple months ago I. jan.

Things are a lot better now, not at all because of IP but because of sheer dumb luck and perseverance, as always. And yet...

See a pattern yet?

It's like I've known for 25 years this is how I die. And for 25 years I try to make it not be so. Not because I'm scared of suicide, but because I just...I find solace in enjoying just watching things play out. I enjoy watching them play out simply because I know suicide is the end game, so like, why fucking care?

This shit is just...not even amusing necessarily, though it is a bit, but more just like...interesting to see happen, once you are disconnected from it. I'm still human, I still have empathy, I recognize these things are scary, not fun, whatever to people still connected. I feel for those people. I can say yes this is right or no this is wrong.

But ME? I don't really fucking care. It's beyond me, not in an egotistical way, it's just...it is what it is. Death takes it from me, and will take it from me sooner than later.

It's weird trying to square that feeling with my day to day. Like today, I was at Walmart. I overheard a woman saying something like "I'm just nervous because they haven't given you your labs back... I'm trying to hurry, I'm going as fast as I can..."

She had tons of shit in her cart, bagged up on the ground at the self checkout etc, but her hands were shaking.

This is what I mean by still caring. So I'm just like "hey, do you want some help bagging? You seem like you're in a rush."

And she was so happy, y'all. Like she felt bad to accept that first but I think she saw in me what I saw in her. 5 minutes helping her bag was nothing to me. What the fuck is five minutes of my life worth? Who fucking cares. We talked, commiserated about shared feelings on parents dying, all that shit.

Someone was like "wow I saw what you did you're so nice" etc

Like cool, I guess. And I would do it again tomorrow too. But I just don't feel anything for me by doing it. I only hope the other person feels better. It doesn't matter if I do, I'm just going to kill myself, right? It's strange.

It's like emotion only exists at a surface level for me but even that surface level amount of care has me doing things all the time to help others, to the point it's commented on all the time like it's special. That's fucking bizarre to me. AND YET...

I get it. Because I don't see other people think ahead for others needs, no one has ever seen my hands shaking and offered to help bag my shit, whatever else. I don't even really want them to lol.

I don't know. It's just all so weird to me, when I feel like I'm just observing society and barely interacting with it, and I get praised while feeling nothing.

I'm not sure what my point is. It just feels an awful lot like having a terminal illness in a weird way, like how I saw my mom be. There's that philosophical question if if you could know how/when you die would you want to, and my answer was always absolutely. I feel like I have that now. But what have I lost, what have I gained?

 

[Saponification]

I think I understand, specially considering you mentioned it feeling similar to having a terminal illness; you have accepted your fate, and thus, you already recognize yourself as being dead. Therefore, you don't have an ego or just barely enough to survive. Which is why you still help other people for the sake of them but get nothing out of it, not even the self-satisfaction of being a good samaritan.

 

[meowme0w]

I think i get what you're saying...I've been thinking of death more, and I've come to really recognize the fact that this is probably how I'm going to die, and it is...a strange feeling. It used to freak me out a lot, I was scared of death even though I wanted to die a lot, but now I'm more at peace with it. I can't really imagine myself going out any other way, and it's just...odd? I can't even really put that feeling into words, it's just bizarre to be really confronted with mortality i think, idk i'm not a philosophist

But I think it's really cool you're still clearly a good person, even if you don't necessarily feel anything. That's a lot more than most other people do, I hope you can be at peace

 

[praythestars]

I think I understand, specially considering you mentioned it feeling similar to having a terminal illness; you have accepted your fate, and thus, you already recognize yourself as being dead. Therefore, you don't have an ego or just barely enough to survive. Which is why you still help other people for the sake of them but get nothing out of it, not even the self-satisfaction of being a good samaritan.

I think i get what you're saying...I've been thinking of death more, and I've come to really recognize the fact that this is probably how I'm going to die, and it is...a strange feeling. It used to freak me out a lot, I was scared of death even though I wanted to die a lot, but now I'm more at peace with it. I can't really imagine myself going out any other way, and it's just...odd? I can't even really put that feeling into words, it's just bizarre to be really confronted with mortality i think, idk i'm not a philosophist

But I think it's really cool you're still clearly a good person, even if you don't necessarily feel anything. That's a lot more than most other people do, I hope you can be at peace

Thank you both for this. I've been severely depressed before in my past and things like that, "attempted" before. Shit other people like ERs take serious but you yourself don't really, you know?

This past January was one of the first real attempts, to me, anyway. As in it came almost out of no where, it was just like "let's go" and I just did it. It really is a strange feeling at this point. I don't even know that I'm depressed...the best I can say is that I'm just tired. I'm just fucking tired. Not tired in a way that takes away my ability to help or to care about others, really. Not tired in the same way I felt when I was severely depressed. Though I do have my days. It's more like...being a tired parent, but loving your child, and you just tell yourself "this is what we do, because we love them, so you just make yourself do it, but you really can't tell how much longer you can.

Used to be I couldn't do anything, and it didn't matter if I loved someone or not. I don't know. It's just different now, and not in a good way I suppose. It's like I don't even care about being depressed. I don't care enough to say no, that I need a break, whatever, even to myself. I just don't care. I feel like there's a certain amount of caring about yourself necessary, some amount of self preservation instinct needed to say "no" even to yourself. I don't have that anymore.

So I'm glad I can still help others while I'm here, I guess, but I also know me being able to do so is a sign of having fully given up something that feels necessary to live.

 

[Dreamwalker]

I resonate with this a lot, if I understand you correctly. Being kind and helpful on instinct as a remnant of whatever person used to exist inside ?? The reconciliation with death not being enough on it's own to inspire you to shake out of the haze ??

 

[praythestars]

I resonate with this a lot, if I understand you correctly. Being kind and helpful on instinct as a remnant of whatever person used to exist inside ?? The reconciliation with death not being enough on it's own to inspire you to shake out of the haze ??

Yes, a lot like that. It's really just kind of the bare minimum to me, and must just be instinct. I don't get any joy out of doing it, not for me, all I get is a vague hope that it helps someone else not feel like me. On top of that being praised for doing something kind when in truth it's more like why not help the person, nothing I'm doing matters at all. My time doesn't matter. Who the fuck cares. It's hard to explain.