EPTIt's also unedited so there are going to be some typos & grammar errors.
From time to time, I seem to sink or gradually slip to the point where, emotionally, I'm just lost, destroyed, ruined, dead and laying in some very dark and hopeless cave of big pointless fucking nothing, no light, no fucking way out, no will or belief in getting out of it, either.
My dreams take a slightly different form, then. Like taking some giant knife and stabbing myself through as deeply as possible, many times if I can, as many as possible, until I drip every last drop of myself on the fucking ground and dissolve my wasted fucking defeated pointless existence of big pointless fucking nothing into the fucking ground and be fucking done with it.
There, I solved the problems. They're solved as fuck, at that point, I'm sure. Can't deny me that, can you. Here are my relationships, my love and my romantic life, my life of less spiritually inclined drives, some would say, as well. My creations of great quality, my realizing of my potential. There is it is. Sinking into the fucking ground. In some forest perhaps, at least maybe some flowers will find it useful to feed on the ingredients of my blood. It's a well-kept body at this point. In shape, workouts every day, well-groomed. Maximally cold showers. Rather fairly shaped by ways of discipline and hard work. In terms of intellect that runs it, that too seems to be in good shape. It was subject to a ton of training and heavy loads of work to do, regularly. Much work still to be done and far from perfection, sure - but also far from something not being taken care of.
Only it seems to be running with a heart that's in the phase of turning to pitch black, ready to spread onto and consume everything else into its deep wells of despair, hopelessness and raw self-hatred. Self-hatred for failing simple requirements of living. The ones that many men don't like or want to talk about, doesn't go well with the whole being tough thing - which guess what, I love that and it's awesome, you gotta be strong - but ultimately - facts are facts.
The facts are you are a human being and not realizing your potential in relationships is a shame. It's a waste of something very precious, far too precious to not strive to fulfill in your life, whatever form it takes for you personally.
On one end of the extreme, you have all the masses of sobbers - that's what I call people who just keep whining, or blame or hate women, or blame other men, or blame culture, or blame their past, or blame environment, or blame their upbringing and keep fucking crying about it instead of doing something about it. You also have lying deniers in on that side of the spectrum - guys who buy into some stories, pretend there is no problem or believe some fairytale idiocy that "it's just going to come", or whatever it is that they do, they're extremely passive about it and remain naively reluctant to look at their flaws, their problems and to work on themselves. These guys don't fail to identify the problem but they completely fail to properly approach it and take responsibility.
On the other side, you have the toughness for show and fake toughness guys. These guys are don't fail proper approach and taking responsibility as much but that doesn't matter because they fail to identify the problem and fail being honest about it. They aren't whining and crying about it but they are lying about it. This is the supposedly big tough guy, running away and scared of his emotions, pretending they don't exist or acting as if there's infinite time and it can wait another day, another month, another year. Leading and managing emotions doesn't mean trying to extinguish them or trying to ignore them for good. It means managing them, which means solving problems.
You're a human being, you need your degree of love and loving relationships in some form, or you will rot and decompose like flower denied sunlight. That's reality, it's as simple as that and stupid talk, and dumb abstractions made into convincing rhetoric don't change it one bit. You don't eat for long enough, you die. You don't drink for long enough, you die. You don't fulfill your relationships and genuine connection needs for long enough, you die.
It's different for different people - but everyone has relationships needs of their own, be they romantic, community, work, bros etc. - the kinds that are needed for their own sense of fulfillment in life.
I've reached a point where I'm recognizing that either I solve this huge fucking void and empty area of my life by means of finding a way of filling it with proper relationships that I need, or I will annihilate myself. I almost did, in a way. I already annihilated professional career - for the time being - as a web developer. I was self-taught. Not a CS student, nothing to do with it prior but I worked very hard, consistently, sincerely and with some good guidelines (huge fan of J. Watzkin - The Art of Learning).
I say this so as to make clear that I wasn't some fucking loser sitting at my desk and expecting something out of nothing. I worked for 2 years in web dev but in my life, other than hugely succeeding (at the start) in my first months of this work, I was gradually beginning to feel complete and utter pointlessness. I wasn't too awkward socially, I looked at it as a skill and with time, I developed decently charismatic, relaxed, confident ways of carrying myself. A lot to work on in terms of calibrating some behaviors and more well-rounded but overall quite okay.
After few months of intense work, where previous year was intense cave-mode year of learning, of course with zero relationships, I was beginning to feel the emptiness setting in.
I don't need to tell sob stories or whine or do the whole "bro has no girlfriend and it's been long, you know" kind of a thing. I mean it in terms that there's a problem and it needs to be identified for what it is. Almost 30 years old, there were 3 months of my life that I was in some form of a relationship, and all in all, it wasn't satisfying at all. It was incompatible. This fills me with so much grief, sense of waste and loss and grudge to self, I want to fucking brutally torture myself. It's absurd.
Especially given that the opportunities were and are, plentiful. Being relatively handsome, keeping myself in shape, actually being really successful academically, and then professionally, there were a lot of opportunities. There were a ton of opportunities in the way of girls showing a ton of interest since I was extremely driven, working hard, both on the job and on myself, developing myself and growing.
I've failed each and every single fucking one of these. Not by not taking action. I approached quite a lot. Hundreds of approaches, to learn, to overcome my barriers and issues and get myself to a point where I can hold a normal conversation and just chat and invite some lady up for a coffee.
I never managed to make ANYTHING of it work, ever. I've managed some numbers from some cuties but that was it. Not even a coffee date. Nothing. Inexperience played a big role. I did not have the high school dating or middle school dating or even college dating experiences. None, in fact. Zero. Nothing.
There were barriers inside of me. Blockages. A lot of heaviness about it. I was not able to just be normal and natural about meeting women. It was always super surreal to me.
Apparently, my parents separated in some fairly abnormal way when I was young and I was raised by a parent who remained with no relationships for 26+ years and counting. I suppose I have a ton of childhood experiences that set me up in wrong ways, with some traumas or fears, when it comes to the subject of meeting women.
I've tried a lot. I've gotten some numbers. That was it. In honesty, there were biases and to effectively solve that issue, I needed to be much more humble - much more consistently humble - about what I need to do to overcome whatever was and is in the way of me and the relationships that are needed for my life's sense of fulfillment. Most of all, I needed to be more humble and prescient and careful about what I was dealing with. It was like opening Pandora's box. In retrospect, there was no way I would fix a problem of this size with the kind of approach I had to it, back then.
I've gathered information on the issue. I took action. I was approaching girls and trying to make a conversation happen. Normal, sincere and respectful, no cheesy bullshit. Something that could actually work to solve the problem and fill the missing fucking void that was beginning to consume my life. But it wasn't working.
Long story short, I was beginning to feel utter and extreme emotional negativity at times. Not so much anger or rage or even hate but just a sense of grief and hopelessness that felt like I was sucked out of existence, as if standing near, not wanting to touch something very painful.
I would ride my bus to work, super early, satisfied with my discipline and extreme ambition to get up and be at work at 5:00 am or even earlier timeline but then I'd be staring out of the window and feel imploding inside.
So what of it? What is the fucking point of it? I want to kill myself and engineer a way to throw myself under this fucking bus to die in the most torturous way possible. I don't want to engineer some new app feature that will bring me success about which I don't have a single person to tell about with whom I have any degree of any real connection. I don't want to fucking return to my nice apartment room, to find myself in the company of 4 walls and my only friend and connection over all these years, the big pointlessness of complete fucking nothing. These were my thoughts, in some measure representative of how I felt about the whole thing.
+ Show Spoiler +
It also did not help that there was a gorgeous girl in the firm when I first started working there. She was showing a ton of interest in me. I secretely found her attractive and by all means inside of me reciprocated her interest but let nothing of it to show. I was also so extremely focused on succeeding at work, I looked like a maniac. I wanted to be obsessive and a maniac about the work. I thought it was cool. It felt very good and satisfying to me.
The way it went is this. It will sound like some narcissistic fantasy, fair enough - but it did kind of go that way. Ultimately it turned to nothing and I have a hard time forgiving myself for wasting it and letting this chance go like that. She kept looking at me. Like staring at me, straight up, not even trying to be in any way ambiguous about it. Would somehow manage to time her getting up from desk to grab a coffee at the same time I was or when I was going for a cig break. It was as if I had to give some form a response.
She seemed like a religious type to me, for some reason I concluded that. It was completely untrue. But I didn't know that because I made up some stupid, untrue, unchecked conclusion out of nothing and let it slide unchecked in my mind. I also - I don't fucking understand why and I want to kill myself for that - made a conclusion that if she's in any way religious or in general that type, I'd totally break her heart because it'd never work out (I'm hardcore about science & critical thinking etc.).
So I chose to decidedly show her I'm not interested. When I caught her looking at me and she kept her stare (for the record, she had a way about it, gently, not psycho way), I turned, let out a sigh and shook my head in disapproval. Super painful but I decided it was the best choice and so I had to do it. Not gonna be breaking someone's heart.
These were all stupid assumptions. My map of the world in terms of how relationships work was also fucked by the stories and hollywood narratives about true love etc. - not completely but nonetheless, I didn't realize it at the time, my mind was spinning some bullshit projections when I didn't even know that girl and I wasn't catching as bs at that time.
The whole thing died out, like a baloon letting all the air out.
She left the company 2-3 months later. I moved. The day I learned she left, I was livid. I was adamant to not let myself off until I've done what I could to attempt hitting at her - not in some self-belittling way, not some hollywood bs but just let her know I liked her and invite her out somewhere. I asked like some other devs in the office for her number, nobody had it.
Got her number from out manager lady, next day, called, told her everything, as I rehearesed it over and over, and learned she had a boyfriend. It was very positive, she thanked me, told me I was a little bit well, I wished her everything well and that was that. I felt glad I did everything I could and had the courage to go for it.
The right choice was to just chat her up, talk like a normal person, invite her for a coffee and see how it goes with no bullshit expectations and projections, idiotic ideas about who she is or how it would work out or who would break who's heart, what "heroic" self-denying choice I need to make to prevent that because my mind spun up some fantasy projection or whatever other fucking story nonsense.
Never talked to her or saw her again and that's fine. This was a huge error on my part, potentially huge opportunity missed but gotta be humble and not get overly depressed over fucking it up.
Works out cool, ok. That's cool. Doesn't work out cool, ok. Just return to whatever I was doing, that's normal.
This was on the regular. And it was my fault. One reason I was keeping reasonable stability over the next year and a half was that I was exercising responsibility. I recognized, whatever it was, it was my problem and my fault for the situation being that way. I need to solve that problem. If I didn't solve that problem, it would stay like this and get worse. Whining about it or feeling new record extremes in terms of sense of grief and being denied what matters so much to me, wouldn't improve the scenario even one bit.
The area of my life where relationships are meant to at least exist in some form - it was null and void. And it remained so. And I was not ready for taking such efforts - while also working hard - as approaching so many women, getting rejected so many times, being awkward in so many ways on so many occasions - for so long - and only making very small, extremely gradual progress on the whole thing. It was eating me up inside. I was finding it hard to focus at work, at times. It was visceral.
There came a breaking point where things started to gradually take on a downward spiral. I've co-finished a big project for the company - lots of features dealing with pricing, selling and monetizing the project - and it was, overall, a success, given my level of experience.
And when I looked at that "success", I wanted to kill myself as brutally as possible. I wanted to fucking stab my dumb head and smear my blood all over the fucking walls. You dumb worthless idiot. You fucking piece of shit. You moronic debilitated scum. You fuckin' monkey. How can you squander your life away like this. What the fucking fuck is wrong with you. What the fucking fuck. How can you fail to solve a fucking problem for so fucking long. What is so fucking hard about going out and meeting some people. What the fuck are you doing.
I wanted to stab my fucking heart and keep throwing it against the wall. I wanted to cut it into tiny pieces and keep stepping onto each and every single piece of it, spit on every square milimeter of it and then throw it into the toilet and then fucking kill myself in some creative manner.
Not at all how I expressed it at the time but the general tone of I felt and thought at the time was something along those lines.
I was supposed to have solved that issue by now (it was a few months into the web dev job, my first job ever, I've gotten a raise, it was a prodigious success story at that point).
Instead, the problem wasn't solved. I eventually became increasingly confused. I wanted to come back to focus full-force on the job but it wasn't working. My performance was dropping. Ultimately, my performance was such that I tried super, super, super, extremely hard and was failing to the point of absurd.
It was a circus at times. In a new project, I was trying and striving and doing my absolute and utter best to figure it out, to develop my performance systems, my habit systems, my standard operating procedures, my analytics, diagnostics, my ways of reflecting on my problems.
I worked 27 hours straight to complete test React project from scratch (similar to when I was doing work for getting the job in the first place), to prove I've learned it (worked 100% in different front-end framework for ~1 year) in order for my new mentor to accept me onto the new project - which he did - but then I was failing tasks that were not a big deal at all, they were taking me forever to complete, despite hardest of efforts.
Ultimately, these repeated failed and extreme efforts delivered a large, crushing blow to my self-belief and self-faith - I was beginning to believe I'm some fucking failure. A joke. Nothing I do works. So many things, so many attempts, so many techniques, so much effort and care and work and hours and everything...and still fail? And still, not to even mention, same thing with the null and void relationships status? And now I'm failing at my job? Me, who works so hard, who tries so hard, fails at it so horrendeously? What? Like, what? W h a t ? Like, really, no shit, I'm at a point where, if this continues, I'd be fired, were the thoughts. What the fuck? That's as much of being a definition of a loser as you can pack, pretty much.
It did continue worse than that. I would look at code lines and problems, ones that my mind was supposed to juggle with balance and prioritized efficiency - which it did, many times before - yet, now, I was struggling to efficiently figure out even some simple bugs. My self-faith getting crushed, I would stare at the monitor, blank eyes, uttering "what the fuck", in sheer disbelief at what I was seeing unfold itself.
I've "quit" this web dev job. With performance on this level, the downward spiral in place, failure to figure it out, to solve my improvement and learning process issues, despite the immensity of effort and hard work - it's not like there were other options. I've quit on very friendly terms, and financially well off, too.
I decided to take a longer break and reset, for one. However, really, I wanted to use every waking minute on fixing my relationships - the null and void status. This was unbearable. If I wouldn't solve it, I'd kill myself. Satisfying, good, quality, just some and enough of love life and genuine relationships or friendships - or I'd fucking kill myself. Fuck that shit. I'm not going to fucking live like this because this is fucking pointless beyond any description. It's so fucking stupid. What is the fucking point of that. These were my thoughts.
I attacked this area of life problems and went out every day to chat, try to have a conversation, learn how to do, read, read, read, studied, studied, studied, noted an unimaginable.
For a short while because...then this one super hot and cute girl I chatted up in the cafferia, instead of flaking on me, messaged me "You were supposed to write something later!"
So I did. I was scared of rejection at that time - not intellectually but it was in me. So I tried to play it cool, make sure she is the one who wants it more/as much as I want it etc. Still, it kinda worked and we went on a date.
This started 3 months relationship, though it never was some formal relationship. We weren't together. We were just meeting up.
I don't have the time or will to write it all out now but long story short - we were meeting up for 3 months, then there was some friction - no arguments, nothing nasty or even rude, no shouting of any kind - but we kind of felt bad around each other. It kept repeating. The vibe was off, somehow. So we just stopped meeting.
The biggest problem about this, is that I kind of melted into a state of total confusion over the course of this. I didn't know what the fuck was it that was going on with me and my life. I wrote 10+ journals over that time. More like 15, with 5 big ones and 15 smaller ones. To my dismay, nothing I can easily share for reasons I will not discuss right now. Even if I did, much of it is experiments like trying to devise my own language that involves only ideograms and diagrams and some symbols - which really never worked out to any real result.
I've tried and tried, and experimented, and tested, to try and figure what do I truly want to do. I was not satisfied with this relationship with that women, though I very much liked her, she was cool, smart and wished all the best for her and thought she was awesome and amazingly unique in a ton of ways.
The relationship ended, as said, we just stopped meeting up or chatting with each other. Then I also lost password for that messanger, so that option was further curtailed. Sucks because a lot of these exchanges and talks were super hilarious and funny and I'd like to review them some day.
Interestingly, I don't fucking know what I felt afterwards. It was some weird mixture. There was as much relief as there was a sense that there were some precious things and experienced missed, that didn't necessarily need to be missed.
Overall, it was very far off from anything fulfilling. The vibe, connection, whatever you call it, at some fundamental level, was off.
Mostly, I was so super fucked, in terms of my ability to navigate my life. I wasn't focused. I was wandering around, aimlessly, lost and confused, in a daze. Mostly. I had kind of an uprising against this lethargic state, where I took upon extreme discipline again, systemic workouts, great food, early morning up, systematic pomodoros per day, back to return on the web dev track and get some job.
I was still living off of savings at that point. It's not that I was earning so much as a web dev, since I was junior lvl but I had virtually no spending. That was one thing that was there due to the null and void relationships status. I wasn't even trying to save, I just didn't have the need to spend on anything. Food, water, hygiene items, some sweets every Friday (was appling one cheat day per week back then), bus ticket, spotify. That was it, literally.
But eventually I ran out of savings. Also, family problem occurred, which meant I've had to come into contact with my family. As mentioned before, one of my parents is a seemingly functional person but absolutely not a healthy one when it comes to household behaviour. Very, very, very, very far from it, in a very nasty and negative, and in a way that is excruciatingly difficult to deal with because it's so hard to prove to anyone outside, unless you'd record it. I didn't.
I moved out (more like, Shawshank Redemption'd my way out of that fucking sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, sick fucking degenerated, lifeless, dead and life-killing, purposefully lifeless, life-punishing, idiotically life-attacking, life-repressing, life-destroying, ever guilt-tripping, ever attacking, ever negative, ever blaming, ever story-spinning and narrative-bending, to all-sweet sugar and rainbows, to all-love all-the-best, to all the candies and rosy blankets where you're the best, vomit inducing, lethally emotion-damaging "positivities", BPD-person-in-charge, psychotically lying, false and bs negativity, after false and bs negativity, after false and bs negativity, always insanely out of proportion and out of balance and out reason kind of an environment run by a controlling & wolf-in-sheep's clothing sick maniac of a person) all on my own, by my own efforts, to a place where I was overpaying pretty badly but it was at the outset of my web dev job - 3 months in - I was already having good enough money and timing was of the essence.
However, with extreme and hardcore focus on the job, and later on trying to solve the relationship problems - I mean problem, since the relationships status was null and void - this came to be an error of mine. I've ran out of finances. So I had to pick up a job - any job - and get by, somehow. I began working at newly opened store. This was about 6 months ago. I continue working there till now. Haven't touched web dev for a year straight at this point.
I put great effort and try to work super well and hard at this warehouse job. Frankly, I'm happy to have that job. Whatever I was doing, while I wasn't lazy at all and was trying hard to figure my shit out during that time - I actually wasn't working for a few good months after quitting the web dev job.
One of the things that helped me restore a LOT of stability was to understand the importance of work itself as work - previously, it was just a part of my obsessive ambition and frenzied need to improve as much as possible. Frankly, I didn't even think of work as work, despite the fact that I was working an insane amount, it was training myself to be better, whatever it was.
But work is about providing desirable outcomes that others and you are in need of. And work is about being a team player, and the better you can become that, the better off you are. Because if you're the guy who supports everyone, blames nobody, always assumes responsibility for everything, does what he can to keep improving his performance and keeping it very high, you're setting yourself up for success.
It's hard to DO that and become that in terms of consistent habit but if there is one big win over all this time, it's I see myself being that in a lot of ways because I see myself reflexively thinking of any team's problem or outcome as my responsibility and fault, and not someone else's, even if I wasn't directly assigned it or the one doing the task or even there on a given day. Of course, I've also read that, over and over, it's not like I came up with all that on my own and I'm grateful to the person who wrote the book about it.
Null and void relationships status - its a fucking problem and you need to solve it or you won't be well. At the very least, you will be wasting something very precious in your life. So you better find a way and solve that fucking problem so you don't waste something that is very precious in your life. Period.
Petty. Sure. Mired with lies and stories. To some degree, no doubt about it. Narratives that slightly miss simple ways out. Like for example, not worrying about any of that emotional baggage bullshit. Prioritizing, solving, one by one, and keeping at it, and getting stronger, and better, and faster, and more insightful, and more careful, more balanced, more stable, more solid, more rooted, more grounded, more driven, more consistent, wiser. Not worrying when or how or how much is left. Look around. Choose. Step. Then the next step. Then the next. Repeat.
That's a bit more sane way to go about things. I know there is an array of strong, reasonable paths to follow, pretty much no matter what. Brilliant. But sometimes, I feel overcome with something very heavy. At that time, it seems to me, it feels to me, some parts of me that become nearly all of me - had enough to care anymore. I don't give a fuck about myself or anything or anyone or life or the situations or purpose or ways out or no ways out at that point.
I feel like a government and leadership council whose otherwise capable, tenacious, persistent, hard working, believing, inspired, highly learned, educated, well-read, and frankly, gloriously cultured nation, was overcome with such heavy sentiments of grief, swollen isolation, essential elements of purpose still unmet, still failing, with so much of what matters most beyond anything, almost entirely missing...their will becomes what ink becomes on a paper when it faces yet another rain.
I don't mean crying, whining or some emotionally charged, desperate rhetoric. There's no crying. There's just the shell. Like when you see someone when they are making up their mind and choice to not live. The choice's not yet made. I won't let it. I absolutely won't, no matter what. But with ample supply of deadness inside, the resources are there to make the choice and act upon it. If not that, that doesn't mean not dying. If many of your faculties or parts or areas of what constitutes you, however you think of it, if they don't want to live anymore, other faculties will follow their example of disconnection from life, even if they continue to exist.
That condition still leads to perpetually unfulfilled, lost existence. At which point I would make the choice in the fullest capacity because I will not live as something that is not worthy, even if the unworthiness, inadequacy and more, with all the resulting conditions, is but a false flag of ego or faulty beliefs that aren't true in reality - if it's perpetually made to seem real and reflected in my life experience and I arrive at the point where it's too late or where I'm practically unable to fix this - over and over and over and over again - then I make the choice that I need to make.
Selfish. Missing so many synergies and real, magnificent experiences, relationships, so much quiet and hidden wonder of life, all the most juicy chunks of living to gather and cherish, that are up for grabs for anyone who sticks to the chisel of humility and hard work. In the larger perspective, a senseless choice. Choice and condition to be revoked and averted as soon as possible.
Taking all of it away from oneself, and others, with one choice, how come? Why would sentient life forms in general, consisting of so many trillions of cells, able to operate much like a giants civilizations, to shape themselves as and live as such complex, multi-layered, rich and varied organisms, be capable of making such choices?
Normal. I seem normal. Courteous, cultured, positive. Doing my job and trying hard at it. Not that you'd even notice. Inside me, it's not necessarily all violent. It's as if there was some collective voting for some form of gracious and virtuous way to self-annihilate as utterly as possible. Brutally and torturously. Me, the one supposedly in charge of all that (it's me, after all), struggles to look for arguments, save for appeals to just look at reality and keep the patience going.
Long as fuck, long like forever, isn't forever. What seems often isn't what it seems to be, at all. What seems, is often nothing more than child's cry after falling a 100 times in a row. All that's needed is a week or two and the youngster, now distraught and hopeless, finds himself walking the earth.
Unexpected turns do happen. If nothing else, just stay around. Keep improving discpline. At least as much as you can. Do your best and just stay around. You may find your ways, or your ways may find you, or both, enough to make it through to where things are different. Different, as in the most vital elements of purpose, long awaited, have been finally found and claimed - clear, tangible, real and here to provide what they need to provide so I can live something that feels like life and living.
That, instead of an empty, worthless, lost, periodically depressed, hopeless, desperate shell of a person overcome with heaviness that sucks out the will to live. Struggling, kicking and fighting and going hard at it - not some weakling - but still lost, still disconnected from meaning, still failing to work out the things that matter most.
Great job, voice of reason. Save for the fact that when you don't have food, you need to find a way to have food and reasons don't fucking matter one bit. At some point, the only thing that matters is that you put something edible into your stomach so you don't fucking starve to death.
With suicides, I'm of the opinion it's the same thing. There are currents of love, connection, sense of belonging, sense of sharing, sense of togetherness, sense of being a part of something, sense of doing something with or for love - call it all currents of love - that are the lifeblood of a healthy psychological state.
Think of your daily life and all the interactions you have with other people, especially close & otherwise supportive people. Think you didn't have it for a long time, say years, and had a void of nothing in place of it. You'd be starving psychologically for the same reasons it'd suck to live in a world where you're the only person in it with no one else to interact with.
If the circulation of these ingredients is diminished or blocked off for long enough, the psychological "stomach" is starving. You don't need to hear fucking reasons or explanations or theories or great ideas or new best practices for healing some psychological conditions or whatever because that won't ultimately solve the issue. It may help but it won't solve it.
You actually need to solve the problem and to solve the problem you need to find a way to restore proper intake of the psychological ingredients you need for your well being, whatever they are. Much of this may be pretty subjective but with very real consequences as it relates to you satisfying it or failing to do so for extended periods of time.
For now, there isn't really much more to it than heavy volumes of pain and parts of me that want it all to be heard, known, listened to, and truly remedied over time, by some other parts of me. The ones dealing with how I'm making my choices, starting now. It's pain over the things that are missing for so long and that I'm still failing to solve whatever it is that makes it so, despite having done and having solved a lot about it. Essential things.
This writing is just a part of getting all that pain out a bit. Testing and attempting to handle and heal it in some way instead of doing something insane, ignoring it to the point I lose control over myself to it for just enough of what it takes, or otherwise something that won't work. There are many people who were destroyed from the inside, despite having maintained their discipline and composure on the outside.
If you don't show it by lashing out or intoxicating others just because you experience some heavy stuff inside, that's really good. If you just let others know but lightheartedly, knowing it's fully your responsibility, and you keep doing what you need to be doing without turning into a baby, that's really good. However, just because you don't show it, doesn't mean you've handled it or handled it properly. This writing is part of me trying to handle it.
Surviving isn't living. Surviving is so that you can proceed, with time, to live your life, not just survive it. The reward is what you're able to make out of your gift to live. If there is only surviving, if all you can do with the all-precious gift of life is to survive it - as if it was some form of punitive chore that you have to carry out because you have to - that's the worst kind of a pitiful, pathetic, completely mis-understood, mis-handled, disgusting pile of shame and waste. This is my view and if I come to the point where I find myself unable to fulfill the criteria that are essential, subjectively, for me to live instead of just surviving (I don't mean it in a selfish way, as in live just for myself) I will declare to myself that I've failed myself beyond reparation and end myself brutally and in a torturous manner.
I hate myself, on some level. Deep, visceral, seething volumes of hatred. The reason is very simple - I'm failing to realize things in my life that are essential. That I have to realize, in some form, or it's actually going nowhere and it's pointless. And I don't have infinite amount of time to do that.
This is what I felt yesterday.
Yesterday, I saw myself doing that again - that subtle habitual attitude, where whatever it is that's there - in terms of a great opportunity to meet up with someone and perhaps dating or perhaps not - is getting pushed away or fucked up by me, for some reason.
That one person - whom you don't even really know much about yet, despite some small talk and potential interest - whether you guys end up meeting up or nothing happens at all or you form some deep relationship - that's not a problem. That stuff just happens sooner or later, provided you have a healthy and real mindset, and take reasonable action.
But if there is a pattern where you push each and every single, each and every single, each and every fucking single one, and each and every single fucking one, and each and every single fucking one of such opportunities away, by finding some subtle and unnatural, out of nowhere, ways to fuck it up, in spite of your conscious intent, this is a gigantic problem. This is a huge fucking problem because it means you are totally and completely and utterly alone - deprived of so many precious things - because of that pattern and whatever it is that is causing it, because of that reason.
I am not going and I don't want to kill myself. At all. In fact, isn't suicide like some extreme act of crying out loud, where someone doesn't know how to solve their problems so they just run away from them, and this is their way of doing so?
It can be so but let me tell you this. I must admit I am suicidal for a while, and I've been periodically suicidal for a long while because the condition of null and void relationships status generally carries some weight.
I never took it seriously and never admitted it anywhere, to myself, to anybody, in any writing, ever - because what is there to take seriously? I look at it as something that's very, very weak. A badge of shame.
You are going to kill yourself? Because you can't endure for a while, you can't gather up within yourself and keep improving daily action? Because what, exactly? There are people who were against much tougher challenger, who perservered and made it, and you won't? Because what, exactly? What possible reason do you have to squander your life like that? Like seriously, what? Great solution, buddy. Great solution, that'll work for sure.
You see, that's completely missing the point.
It's completely and utterly missing the point because the person who is starved of their psychological "food" - the ingredients of community, relationship, interactions, togetherness etc. - is like someone starving from food for too long - it is impossible for them to perceive, express, reason and function normally when they're starved of food for such a long time.
And they don't need therapy or drugs or whatever else schematic dogmas and schematic pseudo-solutions are typically offered - these might help, sometimes these might harm - what they need is to fix their psychological "diet". Suicidal people need to get the psychological "food" they need in terms of relationships, community, belonging etc., and to solve the problems that stand in the way of that in healthy and sane manner.
That's the same old problem - if you haven't experienced it, you don't understand it.
If you haven't experienced it, it's super easy for one's ego to take over and spew "righteous" statements about what the person should or shouldn't or what it is, or about weakness etc. Or to go too far in the other direction and get all sentimental and overly-empathetic and support victimhood, which is basically the worst kind of damage you can do to someone. (If someone takes on a mentality of a victim, it's a disaster and they are ruined because they will deprive themselves of applying the only thing that works in the long run, which is taking action and believing in what you're doing.)
When somebody is suicidal, there is some area in their life that is just going so poorly or is missing to such a degree, on some levels, they begin to lose sight of how it'll ever realistically be solved, and they, in deepest parts of themselves, don't want to live if that is the case. In subjective terms, it's too essential to them. It's too much a part of them to fail that so completely.
When somebody is starved of food for long enough, they will function and perceive very differently. When it's the psychological "food" I've mentioned, in terms of community, relationship, belonging, sharing etc. - it's the same, pretty much.
If you were transported to a world where you are the only person in this world, save for sarcastic comments, wouldn't that be extremely depressing and hopeless? Wouldn't that be completely pointless over time, pretty much no matter what you'd do? What the fuck would you ever find satisfying or fulfilling or meaningful in such a world, where there's literally no one? How would that feel?
That is why I say that interacting with other people, forming relationships, at least some bonds with high enough level of genuineness, community, is psychological "food". Without this, you die in terms of having a point to live. Starved of it for too long, you enter state quite similar to the person who'd be transported to a world where they're the only existing person. Which is a state of complete and utter raging despair and overwhelming sense of hopelessly lasting pointlessness.
As far as me, nobody knows it or even suspects any of it. Yesterday, trigger criteria were met, which I've carefully took notice of, and I experienced rather intense emotional negativity, in terms of hopelessness, grief, regret, sense of pointlessness etc.
I work. I have a job. I'm working very hard and very diligently. I did form some relationships with my coworkers, I have a mostly positive relationship with each and every single person, and very positive relationships with some.
As far as how I view this scenario, it's a problem I have to solve. I am 100% responsible for it. If I don't solve it, which involves getting whatever help I need and not getting any harmful "help" that could harm me, then that'll be it. I will kill myself because of it.
Not tomorrow, not in a month perhaps, but in a year or two, should it remain below threshold of substantial progress, where there is enough psychological "food" to keep progressing, I'm done.
The way it works, mostly mimics scenario where amygdala emotionally hijacks your systems. There are strong currents of emotional nature, negative one - and they call for something drastic. Then the suicidal person can make the choice - but one that picks up all that emotional charge of enormous grief, hopelessness, pain, sense of loss, overwhelmingly lasting pointlessness etc. - and it is this charge that then drives them to execute their campaign of self-termination with focus and effectiveness.
The way to treat people in that condition is to understand that therapies and convincing them out of it is like telling a person who was starving for 20+ days that there's food out there. That person needs food, not fucking reasons or talk. They need to eat something. Not hear arguments. They can't even fucking process your arguments because they have spartan-like motivation to make sure to not care about anything you say in terms of reason - they hate it because it's dishonest - it only highlights their sense of isolation and abandonment and hopelessness. They can't even hear anything you say.
There is no therapy or drugs for a person who is starving that'll fix the problem in the long run. They need consistent food intake and restoring their ability to acquire it on their own, and then, over time, they'll stop starving. That's because that is a real problem and real solution to it and not some dumb abstractions made eloquent or the futility some collective tradition.
I'm not at that level of threat. I'm nowhere near doing anything to myself.
I'm living in a disciplined manner, I get up early, workout, cold shower every workday, then brain workout, meditate, super nutritious food, go to work, I work hard and well and with realistic, constructive mentality, team-orietented, I take ownership of problems no matter who did what, prioritize and take on them one by one, and so on. I have things that give me joy (watching Artosis stream & his clear love for protoss players, playing bw, some league), and in fact, many other things that have turned to positive direction because I worked on them.
I'm at a point where there's intense, repeated psychological pain that refers to something very simple and very basic - having some good and satisfying relationships, of which I'm starved to an extreme and absurd degree - to the point of not having any for years, almost my entire life, in fact. I'm aware I need to solve that problem. It's as simple as that. If I don't, I will be a deflated, walking shell of a person at best, or I'll enter myself into the suicide list of humanity.
This post is just me letting all that pain out. I fucking hate myself. I feel intense shame over this. I feel like a fucking loser, like some fucking outsider, when I look at all this. It appears like a massive, giant shame to me. I feel like the worst kind of a pathetic, worthless fucking loser. What a fucking failure. What a fucking failure, seriously. So many years, so much life, all alone. What a fucking failure. Holy shit.
Still, even if that were true, so what? That is, let's say I am that pathetic, that much of a failure, that much of a pathetic shameful loser.
Still, the only question that matters is: What will I do about it? Not the emotionally charged cry out of some sort, or something heavy, none of those things. Just a simple query awaiting simple answer and a course of action. That's how I look and keep looking at whatever it is.
What will I do to solve that problem? What will I do to mitigate all the risks as much as possible? What will I do to maximize chances of staying on the path and succeeding?
Ultimately, if I work hard, stay humble and keep at it, and find the relationships I long for, that I'm so starved off, when that occurs, all that pain, all these things that are so essential that were missing, all of that desperate and overwhelmingly lasting sense of pointlessness and hopelessness about it - all of that is in the past.
When that is achieved, none of that matters. By that point, all these past nightmares are just that - past nightmares which don't matter anymore. I may had been a pathetic failure, a shame, complete and utter fucking loser, a walking shell of a person - but at that point, it's in the past and I'm no longer in any kind of a way a pathetic failure, shame, loser or a walking shell by anyone's standards.
At that point, I do have awesome relationships. At that point, I am fulfilled. At that point, I'm living with genuine people who are true to me, and whom I'm true to, with people I genuinely love and who love me. I'm a fucking badass who made his way through. A fulfilled man, living his life to the fullest. Or pretty full. By far, full enough and then some, anyway. A winner who succeeded by anyone's and any definition of success.
That's what I think most people deeply want anyway. A quiet life, lived out from love, surrounded by a sense of genuine connection with people who love them, and whom they love.
