This is my first post here, but I was a lurker for such a long time by now
Anyway, I will try to order my thoughts and do my best to explain my point
It's rather commom to see people struggle with suicide thoughts due to financial problems, relationships problems (or lack of relantionships, for that matter), severe trauma, mental illness alike etc
But for my case? Honestly, I'm consider myself a normal guy with my own nuances (or at least, I would describe myself like that for the society), but the thing is, it's not that I don't struggle too to work and make my money, that I don't have some bad memories about my past, nor that my relationships are perfect, but to be frank, these things represent a tiny portion of my suicidal ideation
I just can't get to the terms with life at all. It's so hard to explain, but I hate to have a body. Some may argue that "we don't have a body, we are a body", but it wouldn't change in the slightest. If I'm a body, I hate to be a body; if I have a body, I hate to have it. And before someone misunderstand it, I'm not talking about body dysmorphia by any means, but the concept of a material body on and by itself. I hate to have to drink and to pee afterwards, to feel sleepy and need to wake up afterwards, of course people in general don't overthink about it, it's just natural, but for me? It's unfathomable, the material world sounds terrible, but a completely conscious world don't make up for it
That alone it's strange enough, but it not ends there. I don't feel life is rewarding enough. Nothing is good enough, nothing is really worthy, the bad things over surpass the good things. Most if not all of these are antinatalist arguments, but that's not the point. Maybe I'm just unnecessarily rationalizing life? That must be true, but it's not like I can control it. It's the way I am. And I'm living like this since... ever, I think. Trying to understand it all, trying to put everything in numbers or cost-benefit diagrams, consuming a lot of energy and time to do simple things or socialize. It's really hard for me to truly like anything, or anyone. The few things I organically like are very niche-related, and sometimes I even become obsessed with them
Even after countless "self-knowledge" meditations, it's really hard to put a finger on it. Even so, other people seems to like me, and trust me. I feel bad for some moments, when a relative or friend looks so content to see me and be able to be with me, but I'm somewhat indifferent most of the time. It's strenuous for me to show affection. Sometimes I fantasize about it, but it's so hard to materialize the thoughts. I think I never genuinely said "I love you" to someone, not even in text messages. There are moments I think about it, even type it, but then have some kind of "mental hindrance", maybe instinctively I think it's some kind of weakness. Maybe, deep in my mind, there's a twisted idea that I don't need anyone, because I'm a god of my own world, I can create my own illusions and don't need to rely on this disgusting material world
I revisit the past all the time, all the time reading old messages, old forums, playing old games. It's really funny, or interesting at least, when I see texts from myself, back from 2022, 2020, 2018, and relating the same issues. It never really changed. "To live is not worth it"; "Why I keep revisiting the past?"; "Why can't I appreciate other people?"
I could contextualize a lot more, say about my childhood, or a possible gifted kid burnout, but I don't think its too relevant to this post, so let's try to not extend so much. The real motive I'm posting this in the Recovery section is because I'm decided to try and seek redemption. And the method (if I can call this way) I'll use can be described by a single word: Discipline
It may sound strange at first, but hear me out. I remember, back in 2019, that I'm unpretentiously subscribed to a gym, and started to work out. Yup, it was completely unpretentious. I was not doing that for aesthetics, to be strong, to make friends, anything at all. I was just... doing what is right, and needs to be done. I didn't even have a partner, proper vestuary, a headset with music of my likings, I would just go, without thinking about it. Somedays I would be late, but I would go, and not make an excuse like "I'm already late, so I won't go anymore". Somedays I failed to even properly feed myself. I'd go in scorching heat, or under heavy rain, it didn't matter. Maybe if I can force myself to stay busy, and force to not deviate my mind from it, I can still "save" myself. Saw this working many times
Back in 2021, I had my first (and last) psych appointment. Back in the day I was struggling with the Covid era. I was given a medicine, used for a time, had unpleasant side effects with basically no benefits, and abandoned it. But thinking back, why though? I was working to not own anything, couldn't think about a good future, didn't feel that I had the grip of my own life, of course I would be upset
Please, I'm not advocating for anyone to abandon treatments, I'm just saying what happened to me and what I make out of it. I of course could try harder to seek other professionals bla bla bla, honestly, for now, I prefer the old school method instead. Hot lead forged discipline. It's not easy, but it never is. For anyone that would try this out, starting with mild exercises, a journal and a trustworthy person to escort you is the ideal. I started my odyssey some days ago. I'm still faltering on a lot of fields, but expect to see difference soon enough, because I'm just so tired of my powerful but stubborn mind trying to take a trick on me, and even doing ridiculuous, unnecessary things like directly asking someone why do they like me?
For now, what I can say is that I didn't fail to update my journal a single day, and it's not like I just write some lines, I use two entire pages most of the time. I can fail my entire day, fail to work, to exercise or to read a book, but I wouldn't fail to write. On top of that, I would write that I failed and it was an utterly lost day. It doesn't matter that much, anyway. In the future, I'll most likely go back to these scribbles and laugh, nonetheless
Anyway, I will try to order my thoughts and do my best to explain my point
It's rather commom to see people struggle with suicide thoughts due to financial problems, relationships problems (or lack of relantionships, for that matter), severe trauma, mental illness alike etc
But for my case? Honestly, I'm consider myself a normal guy with my own nuances (or at least, I would describe myself like that for the society), but the thing is, it's not that I don't struggle too to work and make my money, that I don't have some bad memories about my past, nor that my relationships are perfect, but to be frank, these things represent a tiny portion of my suicidal ideation
I just can't get to the terms with life at all. It's so hard to explain, but I hate to have a body. Some may argue that "we don't have a body, we are a body", but it wouldn't change in the slightest. If I'm a body, I hate to be a body; if I have a body, I hate to have it. And before someone misunderstand it, I'm not talking about body dysmorphia by any means, but the concept of a material body on and by itself. I hate to have to drink and to pee afterwards, to feel sleepy and need to wake up afterwards, of course people in general don't overthink about it, it's just natural, but for me? It's unfathomable, the material world sounds terrible, but a completely conscious world don't make up for it
That alone it's strange enough, but it not ends there. I don't feel life is rewarding enough. Nothing is good enough, nothing is really worthy, the bad things over surpass the good things. Most if not all of these are antinatalist arguments, but that's not the point. Maybe I'm just unnecessarily rationalizing life? That must be true, but it's not like I can control it. It's the way I am. And I'm living like this since... ever, I think. Trying to understand it all, trying to put everything in numbers or cost-benefit diagrams, consuming a lot of energy and time to do simple things or socialize. It's really hard for me to truly like anything, or anyone. The few things I organically like are very niche-related, and sometimes I even become obsessed with them
Even after countless "self-knowledge" meditations, it's really hard to put a finger on it. Even so, other people seems to like me, and trust me. I feel bad for some moments, when a relative or friend looks so content to see me and be able to be with me, but I'm somewhat indifferent most of the time. It's strenuous for me to show affection. Sometimes I fantasize about it, but it's so hard to materialize the thoughts. I think I never genuinely said "I love you" to someone, not even in text messages. There are moments I think about it, even type it, but then have some kind of "mental hindrance", maybe instinctively I think it's some kind of weakness. Maybe, deep in my mind, there's a twisted idea that I don't need anyone, because I'm a god of my own world, I can create my own illusions and don't need to rely on this disgusting material world
I revisit the past all the time, all the time reading old messages, old forums, playing old games. It's really funny, or interesting at least, when I see texts from myself, back from 2022, 2020, 2018, and relating the same issues. It never really changed. "To live is not worth it"; "Why I keep revisiting the past?"; "Why can't I appreciate other people?"
I could contextualize a lot more, say about my childhood, or a possible gifted kid burnout, but I don't think its too relevant to this post, so let's try to not extend so much. The real motive I'm posting this in the Recovery section is because I'm decided to try and seek redemption. And the method (if I can call this way) I'll use can be described by a single word: Discipline
It may sound strange at first, but hear me out. I remember, back in 2019, that I'm unpretentiously subscribed to a gym, and started to work out. Yup, it was completely unpretentious. I was not doing that for aesthetics, to be strong, to make friends, anything at all. I was just... doing what is right, and needs to be done. I didn't even have a partner, proper vestuary, a headset with music of my likings, I would just go, without thinking about it. Somedays I would be late, but I would go, and not make an excuse like "I'm already late, so I won't go anymore". Somedays I failed to even properly feed myself. I'd go in scorching heat, or under heavy rain, it didn't matter. Maybe if I can force myself to stay busy, and force to not deviate my mind from it, I can still "save" myself. Saw this working many times
Back in 2021, I had my first (and last) psych appointment. Back in the day I was struggling with the Covid era. I was given a medicine, used for a time, had unpleasant side effects with basically no benefits, and abandoned it. But thinking back, why though? I was working to not own anything, couldn't think about a good future, didn't feel that I had the grip of my own life, of course I would be upset
Please, I'm not advocating for anyone to abandon treatments, I'm just saying what happened to me and what I make out of it. I of course could try harder to seek other professionals bla bla bla, honestly, for now, I prefer the old school method instead. Hot lead forged discipline. It's not easy, but it never is. For anyone that would try this out, starting with mild exercises, a journal and a trustworthy person to escort you is the ideal. I started my odyssey some days ago. I'm still faltering on a lot of fields, but expect to see difference soon enough, because I'm just so tired of my powerful but stubborn mind trying to take a trick on me, and even doing ridiculuous, unnecessary things like directly asking someone why do they like me?
For now, what I can say is that I didn't fail to update my journal a single day, and it's not like I just write some lines, I use two entire pages most of the time. I can fail my entire day, fail to work, to exercise or to read a book, but I wouldn't fail to write. On top of that, I would write that I failed and it was an utterly lost day. It doesn't matter that much, anyway. In the future, I'll most likely go back to these scribbles and laugh, nonetheless
