Hate my life and the way things are. The way they have to be. Had things been somewhat different, I wouldn't really be in the situation I am right now, probably. But, regardless, the abyss never fails to devour me. That empty feeling. The hollowness.
I decided not to go on antidepressants, but maybe I should? I just don't feel like it'll change how I fundamentally view the world. I don't think most people understand; those who do would feel the same way I do, anyway. I'm afraid of losing my libido tbh, since gooning is literally one of my main coping mechanisms to stop feeling the emptiness. And I don't like feeling physically unwell. Makes everything just that bit worse.
There's such a fundamental futility to existence. I feel terrible every day, really. I attempted suicide two months ago, and right after it was somewhat surreal. Family found out about how I was and all. They are supportive, but in the end nothing changes. Once you stare into the abyss, it stares back at you. Once consumed enough, you're never really the same. My perspective is fixed. A grey, foggy lens through which to view the world. My consciousness is a curse. I wish it wasn't this way.
I'm only just 19 but I'm already feeling old. I don't want to age. Don't really want to die either, but I hate life too, so I don't know. Life passes by so fast, and I despise it. What shred of relevance I hold now will fade away with age. Everything will deteriorate. I've already suffered so badly.
I'm going back to uni after having failed 1st year. I failed because I didn't do anything. I was planning on dying. Didn't hope to make it this far. But what for? I don't want to try. For a job? To keep living. I don't want to live, really. Don't want to try for anything. If this girl hadn't left me, then I'd maybe have something to fight for. A reason. Man needs purpose. I don't have any. I don't care. I just don't fucking care. Everything is predetermined anyway. I don't believe in free will or anything like that. No God. No light at the end of the tunnel. Just this.
There's such a desperate cruelty to the futility of it all. No matter what, nothing really happens. Nothing really changes. Existence is fundamentally horrible. Sometimes, I do wonder why those who struggle so decide to have children, thinking that their lives will be any different. They won't be. You simply bequeath the suffering, add to it all. The millions, billions of tonnes of conscious biomass all sweating, struggling and suffering for absolutely no fucking reason other than this shitty universe deciding to exist because why fucking not. What is this reality? This world? You hope for some salvation of some sort, and I suppose I don't blame people for indulging in such fantasies, but it doesn't stick with me. A terrible feeling lingering in my gut. Jesus. I never asked for any of this. To be born.
Screaming and struggling does nothing. It all just looks upon you apathetically. So pitiful, so pitiful. Contempt for pity, yet to stand tall with pride for what then? Level, level. It all means nothing. I don't claim to be a good person as such, yet I can at least say that with great sobriety I feel only awful dismay at the state of affairs. The brutality of it all.
I wish I could be optimistic. Once, I suppose I was. But it was always coming.
If I had a girl who I could love with all my heart, devote all my energies to, then that would abate the misery. Perhaps I would even feel happy for some time. But that girl's gone, and really I am hopeless. I don't really like how women are anyway, to put it lightly. Not that I particularly like how men are, but you get what I mean. I've always wanted a girl to love like that. Nearly did. It would have meant so much to me. Could have had pets together maybe. I would never have a child, but I do think adoption is somewhat noble. My life is so stale. So grey. I have such resentment towards those who somehow see this world in a brighter way. Those oblivious, cattle-like types who go out partying without a worry in life, viewing so much with so little weight, who are characterised by a certain triviality about their nature, a baffling shallowness. I guess I'm just as shallow, fundamentally, but nevertheless it still stands out to me. I do want to love like that. I yearn for her. I wanted to express how I really was as a person to her. My more tender side. I thought I had a chance. That was my mistake. But I wasn't the best I guess. What is to be said?
Sometimes I fancy I write well, but I'm probably just delusional. It's the only thing I can really engage in somewhat functionally, sometimes. I hardly read anymore. Just so fucking depressed and exhausted.
If you've read this all, cheers I guess. Don't think anybody will. And do antidepressants actually help? Zoloft or whatever is what I might start, idk. Just trying to cope.
I decided not to go on antidepressants, but maybe I should? I just don't feel like it'll change how I fundamentally view the world. I don't think most people understand; those who do would feel the same way I do, anyway. I'm afraid of losing my libido tbh, since gooning is literally one of my main coping mechanisms to stop feeling the emptiness. And I don't like feeling physically unwell. Makes everything just that bit worse.
There's such a fundamental futility to existence. I feel terrible every day, really. I attempted suicide two months ago, and right after it was somewhat surreal. Family found out about how I was and all. They are supportive, but in the end nothing changes. Once you stare into the abyss, it stares back at you. Once consumed enough, you're never really the same. My perspective is fixed. A grey, foggy lens through which to view the world. My consciousness is a curse. I wish it wasn't this way.
I'm only just 19 but I'm already feeling old. I don't want to age. Don't really want to die either, but I hate life too, so I don't know. Life passes by so fast, and I despise it. What shred of relevance I hold now will fade away with age. Everything will deteriorate. I've already suffered so badly.
I'm going back to uni after having failed 1st year. I failed because I didn't do anything. I was planning on dying. Didn't hope to make it this far. But what for? I don't want to try. For a job? To keep living. I don't want to live, really. Don't want to try for anything. If this girl hadn't left me, then I'd maybe have something to fight for. A reason. Man needs purpose. I don't have any. I don't care. I just don't fucking care. Everything is predetermined anyway. I don't believe in free will or anything like that. No God. No light at the end of the tunnel. Just this.
There's such a desperate cruelty to the futility of it all. No matter what, nothing really happens. Nothing really changes. Existence is fundamentally horrible. Sometimes, I do wonder why those who struggle so decide to have children, thinking that their lives will be any different. They won't be. You simply bequeath the suffering, add to it all. The millions, billions of tonnes of conscious biomass all sweating, struggling and suffering for absolutely no fucking reason other than this shitty universe deciding to exist because why fucking not. What is this reality? This world? You hope for some salvation of some sort, and I suppose I don't blame people for indulging in such fantasies, but it doesn't stick with me. A terrible feeling lingering in my gut. Jesus. I never asked for any of this. To be born.
Screaming and struggling does nothing. It all just looks upon you apathetically. So pitiful, so pitiful. Contempt for pity, yet to stand tall with pride for what then? Level, level. It all means nothing. I don't claim to be a good person as such, yet I can at least say that with great sobriety I feel only awful dismay at the state of affairs. The brutality of it all.
I wish I could be optimistic. Once, I suppose I was. But it was always coming.
If I had a girl who I could love with all my heart, devote all my energies to, then that would abate the misery. Perhaps I would even feel happy for some time. But that girl's gone, and really I am hopeless. I don't really like how women are anyway, to put it lightly. Not that I particularly like how men are, but you get what I mean. I've always wanted a girl to love like that. Nearly did. It would have meant so much to me. Could have had pets together maybe. I would never have a child, but I do think adoption is somewhat noble. My life is so stale. So grey. I have such resentment towards those who somehow see this world in a brighter way. Those oblivious, cattle-like types who go out partying without a worry in life, viewing so much with so little weight, who are characterised by a certain triviality about their nature, a baffling shallowness. I guess I'm just as shallow, fundamentally, but nevertheless it still stands out to me. I do want to love like that. I yearn for her. I wanted to express how I really was as a person to her. My more tender side. I thought I had a chance. That was my mistake. But I wasn't the best I guess. What is to be said?
Sometimes I fancy I write well, but I'm probably just delusional. It's the only thing I can really engage in somewhat functionally, sometimes. I hardly read anymore. Just so fucking depressed and exhausted.
If you've read this all, cheers I guess. Don't think anybody will. And do antidepressants actually help? Zoloft or whatever is what I might start, idk. Just trying to cope.
