I just have no reasons left not to die. It would be different if this was me 10 years ago because then I lived like a hermit in constant fear and anxiety and self-loathing, so one could say I had potential to change...but I have changed. I have been on a crazy journey that cured me of my insecurities. I actually think I'm a pretty cool person as people go. But I'm no fan of humanity...
It doesn't seem to matter that I now like myself. I still don't see any point. I still think existence is meaningless. I still do not personally know anyone that I think lives a respectful lifestyle. I still think everyone is lying to themselves every day. I still see people using one another, using me, managing to persuade themselves that they are 'good'...which is f*cking ridiculous. I cannot think of one lifestyle that I aspire to. I have done so much, achieved so much, overcome so much, and all I know is the void. People look at me and call me 'inspiring'. Its crazy. It doesn't even matter to me. They are not inspired by me. They are inspired by what they project onto me, by the limited and false knowledge they have of me. If they lived inside my head they would certainly not be inspired.
I have always tried to help. This is not because I am 'good'. This is because it is the only thing that stops me from killing myself. So its totally selfish. I'm aware of this and now I am reaching the point where I can't even bring myself to help anymore. I cannot abide humans so I volunteer with homeless cats...which has honestly kept me alive for the past 6 months but this is not enough and the strain of having to 'make money' to 'survive' which I really, really cannot do anymore is ruining the little enjoyment I get from the cats. Without money I won't have any free time for cats as I will be on the street. There's no point in that.
Achievement means nothing to me. I have no aspirations. I have done more than most people and it is all void. I have lived what would be called an adventurous, unique life. I have pulled myself out of an insanely difficult and lonely childhood, hellish and lonely 20s and then experienced about 6 mind-blowing years in my 30s that for a time gave me hope that maybe I had figured it out...but over the last year I realised it was all a multitude of distractions. All the people were users. I was just buzzing on the newness of it all. Now I am in a worse place than I was in my 20s because I feel like I have LIVED...REALLY LIVED...and I still want to die.
I started planning my suicide about 15 years ago. I am not one to make 'attempts'. I've had enough people do that around me and I don't want to be like them and wake up to find I am still alive.
I don't even know why I am on here. I feel like I'm clutching at straws...like some tiny part of my ex-christian brain is programmed to seek some sort of f*cking answer that I KNOW doesn't exist. My own last-ditch seeking annoys me.
Yeah obviously I have serious CPTSD. I have no family, no structure, no foundation and I never have had. The only base I ever had was ballet and religion and those are both long gone. I have been exposed to the extremes of human cruelty from before I was born and throughout my childhood, and my brain is hardwired by those experiences...I trust no-one, and even when people are really nice to me...well the few times they really get to know what my story is they f*ck off one way or the other. I think its too much for them. I don't mind. I don't expect anyone to save me. I have no expectations.
Don't know what else to say. Hence...blank.
It doesn't seem to matter that I now like myself. I still don't see any point. I still think existence is meaningless. I still do not personally know anyone that I think lives a respectful lifestyle. I still think everyone is lying to themselves every day. I still see people using one another, using me, managing to persuade themselves that they are 'good'...which is f*cking ridiculous. I cannot think of one lifestyle that I aspire to. I have done so much, achieved so much, overcome so much, and all I know is the void. People look at me and call me 'inspiring'. Its crazy. It doesn't even matter to me. They are not inspired by me. They are inspired by what they project onto me, by the limited and false knowledge they have of me. If they lived inside my head they would certainly not be inspired.
I have always tried to help. This is not because I am 'good'. This is because it is the only thing that stops me from killing myself. So its totally selfish. I'm aware of this and now I am reaching the point where I can't even bring myself to help anymore. I cannot abide humans so I volunteer with homeless cats...which has honestly kept me alive for the past 6 months but this is not enough and the strain of having to 'make money' to 'survive' which I really, really cannot do anymore is ruining the little enjoyment I get from the cats. Without money I won't have any free time for cats as I will be on the street. There's no point in that.
Achievement means nothing to me. I have no aspirations. I have done more than most people and it is all void. I have lived what would be called an adventurous, unique life. I have pulled myself out of an insanely difficult and lonely childhood, hellish and lonely 20s and then experienced about 6 mind-blowing years in my 30s that for a time gave me hope that maybe I had figured it out...but over the last year I realised it was all a multitude of distractions. All the people were users. I was just buzzing on the newness of it all. Now I am in a worse place than I was in my 20s because I feel like I have LIVED...REALLY LIVED...and I still want to die.
I started planning my suicide about 15 years ago. I am not one to make 'attempts'. I've had enough people do that around me and I don't want to be like them and wake up to find I am still alive.
I don't even know why I am on here. I feel like I'm clutching at straws...like some tiny part of my ex-christian brain is programmed to seek some sort of f*cking answer that I KNOW doesn't exist. My own last-ditch seeking annoys me.
Yeah obviously I have serious CPTSD. I have no family, no structure, no foundation and I never have had. The only base I ever had was ballet and religion and those are both long gone. I have been exposed to the extremes of human cruelty from before I was born and throughout my childhood, and my brain is hardwired by those experiences...I trust no-one, and even when people are really nice to me...well the few times they really get to know what my story is they f*ck off one way or the other. I think its too much for them. I don't mind. I don't expect anyone to save me. I have no expectations.
Don't know what else to say. Hence...blank.
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