orpheus_
Member
- Apr 26, 2024
- 97
The greatest irony of my life is probably the fact that it's governed by suicidality and obsessive fear of death at the same time.
I've thought about death since I can remember, since I was a child. I remember falling asleep in my bed and imagining I'm lying in a coffin, feeling dread about the fact that I will cease to exist and trying to "get used to it". I was anxious about dying so much that I obsessively avoided things that could kill me. For example when I was 6 I stopped eating for a few weeks because I found out that humans can choke on food. Or I couldn't sleep because I was afraid I would not wake up again. Or I was obsessively scared of gas stoves because of the fear they will blow up if the gas leaks...
I also always thought about how meaningless everything is, and that the world is too complicated for us to comprehend. I was raised catholic so when I was younger I looked for hope in God, but no matter how hard I tried to "convince" myself to believe - I couldn't.
Sometimes I had thoughts of ending this life, because, logically: if I do not force myself to care about anything and not get attached to things in this world, embrace the fact that it's meaningless - I will not have anything holding me here. Then I will be able to kill myself, die on my own rules - I will want to die, so dying will not be as bad as it would be if I died of old age of an illness or anything. Because if I keep living, I need to hold onto something, some people, some values - it will inevitably happen; so one day when death comes and I don't want it
Also, just... The thought that everything will disappear anyway, just makes me generally unmotivated to do anything. Why should I study, have hobbies, care about my health and stuff if I will be six feet under sooner or later? I used to find some meaning in art and writing, but why create anything if everyone's going to die? It leaves me aimless, empty and bored because nothing satisfies me.
I started actually considering suicide at 17 because earlier I was too concerned about hurting my parents, and also didn't really have any access to reliable methods. But with time I realized that I don't matter much, even to people, and they will be happier without me. And since then I've been constantly in the process of:
I want to die -> survival instinct/fear of missing out on life -> I try to get better and convince myself that life is worth living -> I stop craving death -> I start fearing death -> I remember that death is inevitable and everything is meaningless -> I stop pushing myself to do anything and care about anything because it doesn't matter, and even if I find things that have meaning for me I'm going to lose them when I die anyway -> I have no motivation to do anything, everything is dreadfully boring, life is painful -> I want to die
I mean, before I also went through this thought process all the time but I couldn't kill myself. But then it became a real option.
Technically the arguments for killing myself are more rational but something in me doesn't want to give up on this life. I *know* I don't matter, everything's empty and there's no purpose and these thoughts keep coming back to me all the time. So the cycle goes on and on. And both the state of wanting to die and fearing death are insufferable, painful, and there's no possibility to stay in the inbetween. Actually the inbetween is even worse. Sometimes at the same time I'm planning to kill myself and wanting to live and have a better life. I wish I could commit to anything, at one hand I really want to just experience a good life and help others, so I want to "recover" but then the fear of death comes back and I'm thinking.. is it even worth it? Maybe I should do the opposite and drive myself further into suicidality so I will finally end it.
I know not many people read long posts like this, especially vents but maybe someone here can relate and knows any ways how to deal with it.
I've thought about death since I can remember, since I was a child. I remember falling asleep in my bed and imagining I'm lying in a coffin, feeling dread about the fact that I will cease to exist and trying to "get used to it". I was anxious about dying so much that I obsessively avoided things that could kill me. For example when I was 6 I stopped eating for a few weeks because I found out that humans can choke on food. Or I couldn't sleep because I was afraid I would not wake up again. Or I was obsessively scared of gas stoves because of the fear they will blow up if the gas leaks...
I also always thought about how meaningless everything is, and that the world is too complicated for us to comprehend. I was raised catholic so when I was younger I looked for hope in God, but no matter how hard I tried to "convince" myself to believe - I couldn't.
Sometimes I had thoughts of ending this life, because, logically: if I do not force myself to care about anything and not get attached to things in this world, embrace the fact that it's meaningless - I will not have anything holding me here. Then I will be able to kill myself, die on my own rules - I will want to die, so dying will not be as bad as it would be if I died of old age of an illness or anything. Because if I keep living, I need to hold onto something, some people, some values - it will inevitably happen; so one day when death comes and I don't want it
Also, just... The thought that everything will disappear anyway, just makes me generally unmotivated to do anything. Why should I study, have hobbies, care about my health and stuff if I will be six feet under sooner or later? I used to find some meaning in art and writing, but why create anything if everyone's going to die? It leaves me aimless, empty and bored because nothing satisfies me.
I started actually considering suicide at 17 because earlier I was too concerned about hurting my parents, and also didn't really have any access to reliable methods. But with time I realized that I don't matter much, even to people, and they will be happier without me. And since then I've been constantly in the process of:
I want to die -> survival instinct/fear of missing out on life -> I try to get better and convince myself that life is worth living -> I stop craving death -> I start fearing death -> I remember that death is inevitable and everything is meaningless -> I stop pushing myself to do anything and care about anything because it doesn't matter, and even if I find things that have meaning for me I'm going to lose them when I die anyway -> I have no motivation to do anything, everything is dreadfully boring, life is painful -> I want to die
I mean, before I also went through this thought process all the time but I couldn't kill myself. But then it became a real option.
Technically the arguments for killing myself are more rational but something in me doesn't want to give up on this life. I *know* I don't matter, everything's empty and there's no purpose and these thoughts keep coming back to me all the time. So the cycle goes on and on. And both the state of wanting to die and fearing death are insufferable, painful, and there's no possibility to stay in the inbetween. Actually the inbetween is even worse. Sometimes at the same time I'm planning to kill myself and wanting to live and have a better life. I wish I could commit to anything, at one hand I really want to just experience a good life and help others, so I want to "recover" but then the fear of death comes back and I'm thinking.. is it even worth it? Maybe I should do the opposite and drive myself further into suicidality so I will finally end it.
I know not many people read long posts like this, especially vents but maybe someone here can relate and knows any ways how to deal with it.
