Messed-up fantasies (not half as interesting as it sounds)

It would be far easier fighting through emetophobia and all my other problems if I felt there´s anything to fight for. As long as life is pleasantly boring we might just take it as it is, but if you feel like you have nothing in particular to live for you can´t help wonder what you´re fighting for when fighting becomes necessary.

There´s a small, tiny little entity inside of me who is desperate for something. For being seen, heard, loved, you name it because I cannot quite figure it out. I only know that as soon as I feel like someone close to me doesn´t love me or is mad at me that entity starts crying helplessly and tries to reach out for that person. Please, please love me; what do I have to do to make you love me again?

There´s no pride, no reason; nothing but the absolute necessity to feel loved and sheltered. To feel like I belong to someone. The ambiguity in this sentence is not arbitrary. I crave a connection, a bond; something that cannot be separated. It´s almost as if I wanted to be an extended part of someone else.

That entity is fine with being small and little and dependent. Doesn´t want to be a being of her own, doesn´t want to have a will of her own. No loneliness, that´s all that matters.

I´m starting to feel more and more that whatever it is I want I won´t get it. I´ve touched upon this in the last crazy stream of consciousness. So on some level I simply want to die because I don´t know what the fuck I´m still doing here. All the fighting amounts to nothing. All fighting seems to be a fight for independence and I don´t need that independence for anything. I don´t want anything, remember? No goals, no real ambitions, just that terrible loneliness to bear, an abyss opening up right under my feet and I will fall if I ever look down. What´s walking the earth is just a ghostly shell, an image of my mother, a despicable pointless smiling machine that pretends it is moving anywhere but in circles! I can accomplish things, I can make it look as if I have lived my life (maybe, I tend to overestimate myself here), but that´s that. I´ve never really felt at home in it. Nor in myself. So why don´t I just die?

That entity won´t let me kill myself. The idea feels like stabbing a toddler in the face. As if my loneliness would go away! I´d be dying alone, going into some grey nothing where definitely no one will be holding my hand.

So I dream about being murdered. I´ve stated before how real murder is different from what I imagine, and indeed I see it more as a mercy-killing. There would be this connection present, a mind-to-mind hotline allowing my killer to take all my feelings away from me, make them part of who he is and then dispose of the shell that is left. What he´d kill of would be my empty consciousness, void of all contents like thoughts and feelings. Just my awareness that I exist. The needy little child would be saved, as part of someone else´s mind, while I no longer have to feel anything or lead a meaningless existence. I guess if any feeling would be left in my mind before I die it would be gratitude.

I feel a certain fear that someone might be using this as an excuse to just attack and murder me. Use me as an outlet for aggressions. I just have that image in my mind and I feel like I couldn´t object. It´s what I wanted, isn´t it? I´ve offered myself up for this.

No wait, I didn´t. It isn´t part of the good fantasy that the killer is fulfilling an emotional need of his own. I didn´t offer myself as a punching bag, did I? But yes, there more or less is such an element. I assume that he will meet me with kind feelings, that he will want to do what he does. He will want to take in all my feelings, he will welcome them in. So…I feel like I am giving him something. He is taking something from me that he wants. He´s not just doing me a favour.

Or is it more like: If I ask for something I have to take the consequences? Like: YOU wanted to be murdered, YOU wanted me to rip those feelings out of you, so now don´t complain if it´s scary and it hurts?

It´s like I can never really wish to get what I asked for because it will always somehow bite me in the ass. I just feel incredible aggression coming from that second, ill-natured killer. Maybe it´s a good metaphor for how my wishes were dealt with, I don´t know. Like: Nobody will just try to do for me something good I´ve been asking for, they will always make sure I regret asking them. And I´m starting to wonder why, seriously. Is it that hard or horrible to do something for me? Do I always have to pay some lunatic price? If I ask something from someone, does it mean he can do to me whatever he wants?

 

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