Venting it's almost like i don't wanna get better????

[socrates.]

title. the truth is i am getting better. when i think of where i was last year, and then the year before that, i am healing. i am getting better.

so why do i feel guilty? it feels like getting better is doing my past self a disservice. for every moment in the past i wanted to kill myself it's like im undoing it. proving myself wrong. this should be good because objectively i should want to enjoy life and live it and not think about killing myself.

i've been clean from self harm for 56 days (my longest in a while) and i don't want to relapse even. i felt like i wanted to but on one hand it's too much work but also i know it's good for me. so why does it feel bittersweet? why do i miss feeling this despair? why do i miss hiding the cuts on my skin and feeling shocks of pain when my clothes rub against them?

i don't even know who to talk to anymore because i've been discharged from therapy (i was in pediatric and i just graduated high school) and i'm finding that people i considered to be some of my "close friends" were really just close by proximity. like it feels weird reaching out to them because we never talk anymore and i don't want our first conversation in a month to be "hey i need help bc i wish i wanted to die but i dont" because that sounds insane

i don't even know what to do and i hate that ive come so far, wanting to be better and wanting to not be miserable anymore, just to turn around and say "i hate being happy and i want to want to die again".

 

[Cloud Busting]

Something just feels wrong to me about being happy or fulfilled knowing others suffer. It makes me feel guilty. I felt so bad getting sober, knowing many of the people I used with are in and out of jail still, broke and homeless. It's like I think I'm better than them now. I hate succeeding when many others just don't make it, as if I'm leaving them to fall while I rise.


I just try to remember everyone suffers, and I cannot control the conditions people are in or their behaviors. When I was miserable, I made others around me miserable. When I was actively drinking and using, I hurt others and enabled people who struggled like me. We enabled each other, really. I live to try to cause the least amount of suffering possible. It seems to be a nice goal. I try to learn from my mistakes rather than define myself by them (which is hard for me.)

It sounds like mental instability is your identity maybe. Perhaps what you fear is losing yourself?

 

[SchizoPolyGymnast]

title. the truth is i am getting better. when i think of where i was last year, and then the year before that, i am healing. i am getting better.

so why do i feel guilty? it feels like getting better is doing my past self a disservice. for every moment in the past i wanted to kill myself it's like im undoing it. proving myself wrong. this should be good because objectively i should want to enjoy life and live it and not think about killing myself.

i've been clean from self harm for 56 days (my longest in a while) and i don't want to relapse even. i felt like i wanted to but on one hand it's too much work but also i know it's good for me. so why does it feel bittersweet? why do i miss feeling this despair? why do i miss hiding the cuts on my skin and feeling shocks of pain when my clothes rub against them?

i don't even know who to talk to anymore because i've been discharged from therapy (i was in pediatric and i just graduated high school) and i'm finding that people i considered to be some of my "close friends" were really just close by proximity. like it feels weird reaching out to them because we never talk anymore and i don't want our first conversation in a month to be "hey i need help bc i wish i wanted to die but i dont" because that sounds insane

i don't even know what to do and i hate that ive come so far, wanting to be better and wanting to not be miserable anymore, just to turn around and say "i hate being happy and i want to want to die again".

I would like to suggest that this is completely normal. I go through this a lot.

Have you ever heard of terminal burrowing? It's a phenomenon found in those who have died of hypothermia. Most of the time they are found naked (paradoxical undressing) and then they see somewhere to hide, whether it's in the snow, in a closet, etc and this is what's called terminal burrowing. They're not 100% on what causes this but here is the theory: Hypothermia typically causes constriction of the blood vessels to preserve blood flow to the vital organs. At end stage hypothermia, the muscles in the blood vessels start to fatigue and they can't maintain that level of construction anymore. They dilate suddenly and that creates a rush of warmth, prompting the undressing. Then they burrow.

So what the hell is my point? The world is a cold and brutal place even when we are well, and being well requires a certain amount of soldiering on, braving life's challenges, adapting, etc. And sometimes it's just too much. We lose our shit and we head for the safety of the burrow and wait to die.

 

[alwaysalone]

title. the truth is i am getting better. when i think of where i was last year, and then the year before that, i am healing. i am getting better.

so why do i feel guilty? it feels like getting better is doing my past self a disservice. for every moment in the past i wanted to kill myself it's like im undoing it. proving myself wrong. this should be good because objectively i should want to enjoy life and live it and not think about killing myself.

i've been clean from self harm for 56 days (my longest in a while) and i don't want to relapse even. i felt like i wanted to but on one hand it's too much work but also i know it's good for me. so why does it feel bittersweet? why do i miss feeling this despair? why do i miss hiding the cuts on my skin and feeling shocks of pain when my clothes rub against them?

i don't even know who to talk to anymore because i've been discharged from therapy (i was in pediatric and i just graduated high school) and i'm finding that people i considered to be some of my "close friends" were really just close by proximity. like it feels weird reaching out to them because we never talk anymore and i don't want our first conversation in a month to be "hey i need help bc i wish i wanted to die but i dont" because that sounds insane

i don't even know what to do and i hate that ive come so far, wanting to be better and wanting to not be miserable anymore, just to turn around and say "i hate being happy and i want to want to die again".

Thoughts can be addictive too. Good or bad and it takes time to break the addiction to them just as any other. Also any change in your "routine" can seem strange until your new routine becomes the norm.