Everything sucks

I have no prospects for the future.

I might not manage to write my thesis in time. I might not manage to try a second time. I might not manage to graduate from college.

That alone would not be so bad if I knew what else to do. I don´t. I have vague dreams, but I don´t have the energy to work on any of them. I´m not even sure I´d have the energy to look for a small, boring, normal job fairly unskilled people can do.

I know what I have is called depression. It is a depression of exhaustion. It comes from years of suffering and stress. In the last ten years I´ve carried the shame of letting down a friend who was in deep trouble, I´ve suffered the derealizing effects of thinking I might have repressed memories of child abuse and the complete alienation from my family, I was subjected to a cold, disturbed individual who successively demoralized me and left me somewhere between screaming hysteria and numb functioning. I went to a therapist who was intransparent, judgemental and borderline dishonest and I left him after two years of useless and frustrating power struggles. I spent three years of my life getting drunk and being hungover. I betrayed the one person who means something to me.

I simply don´t want to exist anymore. Being alive can be a greater punishment than death. I cannot move freely inside myself anymore, I will always cut myself open on some unresolved issue, on some splinter of my former self. My mind has become a very small prison cell.

There is no more reason to do anything. I have nothing to hope for. I was promising once, but that was crushed when I was 15, an age where you´re  starting to form an identity.  Now I´m just a broken individual. As such I am pretty much useless. I´ve no idea who I once was, and if I could somehow return to that state, it would be of little use because I´m ten years older now. I feel like someone who´s lost his memory. I´m yearning for something that´s gone, a whole and healthy person, and I cannot get used to the idea that this broked, confused, disoriented shadow of a person I now am is all that there is. That gone is gone. That I´ll have to build someone new, and additionally I´m also burden with the weight of the past.

I know that with a condition like mine you are typically sent to a therapist. It´s what would happen to me if I definitely stopped functioning, that is, if I fail my thesis, don´t try again and don´t get a job instead. I´ll be sent to a therapist. Again. Because that´s worked so damn fucking well in the past.

Apparently, I cannot just lie around and tell the world I´m tired. Whenever I let anyone see the real depth of my depression and alienation, they resort to accusations and judgement. It´s okay to be depressed as long as you very much want to be fine and functioning again. If you admit, leave alone openly say that you don´t want to be fixed because you see no point in functioning, you´re the bad guy. No more sympathy.

I want to be depressed. I want to be so completely apathetic that I don´t care what happens to me. I want to lie on my bed and be so apathetic that I don´t even feel the boredom of it. I want to be numb to accusations, provocations, threats and promises. I don´t want to feel anymore. I want to die alive. I want to be psychologically untouchable. No. More. Pain.

If anyone can help me, it would have to be someone who makes no judgements at all. Someone who doesn´t set any goals for me. Someone who doesn´t expect me to get better. Someone to whom I can talk, and he´s there and listens and asks me questions. Someone who is endlessly patient. Someone who has a happier solution for the problems that plague me than to ascribe them to “narcissism” and thus make me an unperson.

Such a person does not exist, and such a solution does not exist. I can perhaps imagine such a person, and I can perhaps find such a solution, but as of now, none of them exists. What exists is people who can give me parts of the solution, mostly through books and writings.

I don´t know how I can ever love myself again. Right now I want to be broken. I am cruel to myself, I paint everything in the darkest colors because I feel that if only I could lose all hope, if only my ego burst into pieces, I´d feel so much more peaceful. What I do here may look like a step forward because I seem to free myself from “denial”, but it actually is self-destructive. It is an attempt at removing myself, destroying myself, so that only the cold, sterile satisfaction of a righteous execution remains.

Maybe I should find someone else for these little breaking sessions. Maybe I´d need someone to take over my life, tell me what to do every step of the way and every now and then psychologically demolish me. Haven´t I always dealt with demoralizing experiences that way? I replayed them in my head, inflicted them on myself again in my mind, usually in some perverted form. Maybe the worse the things that happen to me, the worse the things I need. Maybe now I regularly need to be pushed to a point of confusion, self-loathing and frustration, or rather, the confusion, self-loathing and frustration which are already there must be evoked and enhanced on purpose, in order to purge me of them. Purging me by pushing me to an emotional outbreak. Maybe an emotional outbreak would be like some kind of protest, like my mind setting a boundary and shaking off the thoughts. A way to feel myself at all. I have no idea. Now, however, the outbreak won´t come. I cannot break myself. I retreat to apathy.

Apathy is nothing but silent rage. Protected rage. When I want someone to break me, I want them to bring out the rage. Make me vulnerable. A sick part of me wants to see what happens when I rage all I can, unable to seek refuge in apathy, and yet my rage accomplishes nothing. What would happen? Probably complete, euphoric, brainwashed submission. And after that, given that I genuinely trust and love the person who did it to me? Possibly peace.

 

 

 

 

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2 Responses to “Everything sucks”

  1. writingthebody Says:

    You are doing it tough, my goodness. The feeling in your header of being numb like that is worse than pain. In fact, being hurt physically is nothing compared to it (speaking from experience so to say). I do not know how to break out of that space for you….I only know that the best things are the simplest – going out, doing something random and kind for someone you do not know, even having a cat or dog to depend on you. The sun, in its heat, the winter in its cold. These are the best things. If you cannot go outside, try a cold, I mean utterly cold shower that you time for say 5 minutes. Then shivering, freezing even, crawl back to bed and feel your body do its healing. I say this as a substitute for cutting or hurting yourself (the body does the same repair work then, but it is better if you are feeling as you do that you do not hurt yourself for real – numb/dead inside is the worst space to be).

    I do not judge you. I am too hypocritical and worthy of condemnation myself to judge anybody, and I do not. I know this terrible pain you feel. I know you need to come out of it somehow, and that it does not happen easily or readily.

    I do not know about therapy. My problem there is that I think we all only have a couple of therapy shots in us – once we have been to it a few times, we end up immune to whatever benefits it offers. I have always found them useless, and only one said one thing that was of any help at all – that is to pay attention to the physical being of your feelings at all times. Helpful, but I learn that at Tai Chi too. In fact, you would be better now to go to something like Tai Chi, where you can go anonymously, speak little, and leave when it is over.

    God I suppose most of what I have said is of no use. But I thought I would write to you anyway. I understand – perhaps that is the most useful thing I can say, and also, I do hope that you can write that thesis. In that respect don’t predict whether it will be useful or not afterwards – afterwards can wait. Now is what matters….please take all my best wishes, and give yourself (I mean it physically, to do it with your arms around yourself) a hug from me, John.

  2. What you say is not useless at all, and I´m very glad you wrote. I fully believe you that you understand.

    The cold shower sounds like a good idea. Cutting never seemed to give me the “full-body experience” I was looking for. It´s weird how intense physical sensations can help, but they do.

    It´s interesting what you say about therapy, that at some point it will lose its effect. I think you might be right. I´ll have to think about that.

    Thank you for writing such a long, helpful comment. Thank you for caring.

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