Pfysch
This is not a dress rehearsal.
- Sep 29, 2025
- 11
Maybe I'll write more about this in future.
I'm always the bigger person. I'm always the rational one. I'm always the guy with his shit together. I'm always the one people go to for help because I'm inordinately patient. This attracts people who need inordinate patience. There's no one like that for me. I can't afford to stop functioning. I crashed out on a friend's couch for 1.5 days after a breakup, and I knew I'd spent all the goodwill I had with the guy. When his dad was coming home and I had to leave, I couldn't even move. I had already called off work twice and I knew the next day I'd have to go in. And be normal. And be helpful. After I left his house, I couldn't tell anyone how I was doing. I couldn't afford to.
Every time I'm in crisis, someone else is in a worse crisis. If I express that anything's wrong, I'm making it all about me. If I keep functioning, no one will check on me, and I'm too traumatized from previous incidents to ever be honest about it anyway. I just can't do it, even if I wanted to. I can't tell people how bad it is, so if I bring it up at all it seems minor. After all, I'm going to work, going to community college, going out with friends, I'm good at being a citizen, I couldn't possibly be suicidal. I'm constantly biting my tongue and trying to give everyone as much grace as a I possibly can, but I can't expect it in return. I'm doing too "well." People will tell me that no one's suffering is delegitamized by others' suffering, but they don't actually mean it. If you look like me, if you act like me, if everything is together and nothing is truly, materially wrong? I'm making it all about me. Sometimes it's not your turn to speak. I'm too high-functioning to ever deserve that turn, not if anyone else is struggling in an obvious way.
I know I'm going to be high-functioning until I die. The day it all breaks down is the day I die, that's the only realistic option. I've had over 20 therapists in the last 8 years and I could never be honest with a single one. I did outtake paperwork while planning to kill myself a dozen times. They just don't notice; they can't read me, no one reall can, which is great, because I'd rather die than be involuntarily admitted.
If I already want to die, why would I risk a fate worse than death.
I'm going to function and function and function and one day I'll get up and decide to kill myself instead. Everyone will be surprised and say there were no signs. There were plenty of signs, mainly that it's all I thought about every day for most of my life, but I couldn't tell anyone. I can only be honest when it can't hurt me anymore: after I'm dead.
I'm too tired to continue adding to/editing this.
I'm always the bigger person. I'm always the rational one. I'm always the guy with his shit together. I'm always the one people go to for help because I'm inordinately patient. This attracts people who need inordinate patience. There's no one like that for me. I can't afford to stop functioning. I crashed out on a friend's couch for 1.5 days after a breakup, and I knew I'd spent all the goodwill I had with the guy. When his dad was coming home and I had to leave, I couldn't even move. I had already called off work twice and I knew the next day I'd have to go in. And be normal. And be helpful. After I left his house, I couldn't tell anyone how I was doing. I couldn't afford to.
Every time I'm in crisis, someone else is in a worse crisis. If I express that anything's wrong, I'm making it all about me. If I keep functioning, no one will check on me, and I'm too traumatized from previous incidents to ever be honest about it anyway. I just can't do it, even if I wanted to. I can't tell people how bad it is, so if I bring it up at all it seems minor. After all, I'm going to work, going to community college, going out with friends, I'm good at being a citizen, I couldn't possibly be suicidal. I'm constantly biting my tongue and trying to give everyone as much grace as a I possibly can, but I can't expect it in return. I'm doing too "well." People will tell me that no one's suffering is delegitamized by others' suffering, but they don't actually mean it. If you look like me, if you act like me, if everything is together and nothing is truly, materially wrong? I'm making it all about me. Sometimes it's not your turn to speak. I'm too high-functioning to ever deserve that turn, not if anyone else is struggling in an obvious way.
I know I'm going to be high-functioning until I die. The day it all breaks down is the day I die, that's the only realistic option. I've had over 20 therapists in the last 8 years and I could never be honest with a single one. I did outtake paperwork while planning to kill myself a dozen times. They just don't notice; they can't read me, no one reall can, which is great, because I'd rather die than be involuntarily admitted.
If I already want to die, why would I risk a fate worse than death.
I'm going to function and function and function and one day I'll get up and decide to kill myself instead. Everyone will be surprised and say there were no signs. There were plenty of signs, mainly that it's all I thought about every day for most of my life, but I couldn't tell anyone. I can only be honest when it can't hurt me anymore: after I'm dead.
I'm too tired to continue adding to/editing this.
