vinicuit
vini
- Mar 1, 2026
- 11
this is part of an essay i wrote that turned out to be too personal (for context, i am an anthropologist)
"(...) for which reason do i persist?
People usually have poetic answers for these kinds of question, even because it's developed a reason to get up every morning. Would it be love? But does love alone sustains anything at all? Love's enough? Until when does this feeling is capable of maintain someone alive? I do not have enough love in me to maintain me alive, I do not actually recognise any form of love for myself. Would you ever be capable of loving someone that believes in suicide as a possible solution? Why would suicide be wrong if the person is not harming anyone except for themselves? Sometimes life is miserable and there's nothing to be valuable, and if I'm in such a pain, why voluntary death would be an issue?
Society says my life is unecessary and that my body is not worth, cause I'm mental ill; and in the moment I accept it and decide to end with my life, it suddenly became worth? They never actually cared. Never ever belonged to me, not even my own meat.
If I'm not lovable, not necessary, invisible, what's the point of having a body? My body is an extension of myself, and if i'm undesirable it becames more of it. It's expected a unreacheble sense of selfcare. I dont care for my body, I don't care about death, I don't care about myself; quite the opposite, self-destruction puts my mind at ease. Without any kind of compassion for my body. And what do I have? I dream of being able to live like the others? It's been months I've been thinking about what's the reason that makes me get up from my bed everyday, and I honestly have no clue. Today i woke up, went to college, had classes, had lunch alone, went to study, and after a long day, not even a single moment I spoke to anyone. I saw a bunch of people, but not even my friends reached out to talk to me, I did not exchange a word with another person today. And it's a weird feeling, it doesn't make me feel sad, it makes me feel like I'm not a real person. Not existing."
"(...) for which reason do i persist?
People usually have poetic answers for these kinds of question, even because it's developed a reason to get up every morning. Would it be love? But does love alone sustains anything at all? Love's enough? Until when does this feeling is capable of maintain someone alive? I do not have enough love in me to maintain me alive, I do not actually recognise any form of love for myself. Would you ever be capable of loving someone that believes in suicide as a possible solution? Why would suicide be wrong if the person is not harming anyone except for themselves? Sometimes life is miserable and there's nothing to be valuable, and if I'm in such a pain, why voluntary death would be an issue?
Society says my life is unecessary and that my body is not worth, cause I'm mental ill; and in the moment I accept it and decide to end with my life, it suddenly became worth? They never actually cared. Never ever belonged to me, not even my own meat.
If I'm not lovable, not necessary, invisible, what's the point of having a body? My body is an extension of myself, and if i'm undesirable it becames more of it. It's expected a unreacheble sense of selfcare. I dont care for my body, I don't care about death, I don't care about myself; quite the opposite, self-destruction puts my mind at ease. Without any kind of compassion for my body. And what do I have? I dream of being able to live like the others? It's been months I've been thinking about what's the reason that makes me get up from my bed everyday, and I honestly have no clue. Today i woke up, went to college, had classes, had lunch alone, went to study, and after a long day, not even a single moment I spoke to anyone. I saw a bunch of people, but not even my friends reached out to talk to me, I did not exchange a word with another person today. And it's a weird feeling, it doesn't make me feel sad, it makes me feel like I'm not a real person. Not existing."
