Foreword: this’ll all come out as a vent, because I don’t even know what question I could be asking right now. There’s nothing left to want from where I’m standing, at least nothing realistic. This doesn’t mean I want it to be a monologue, so if anyone has anything to offer, or to add, or if my words simply resonate so much that you’d want to vent, please do so. Sincerely.
Trigger warning: nothing specific, just heavy language and a lot of howling at nothing in particular.
All I know with certainty is that it’s not depression. I wish it were, actually, because depression is, at this point, familiar to me. I know the routines, I know the words, I know the slow-roasting anguish, it’d feel like going home, as fucked as that sounds.
No, this is… I don’t have a word for it, it’s just a swirl of overwhelming and contradictory voices yelling all at once. I feel exhausted beyond comprehension, yet I feel like a nuclear reactor that’s fully functioning while not being connected to anything. I feel sadness like I haven’t felt before, and an anger which makes me want to smash myself against everything and anything around me, to destroy, to demolish, to ruin, to chew everything to shit, spit it out, then chew it up some more. I feel the need to burst into flames and scorch everything in my line of sight.
I feel rage. Pure, unbridled rage, and the only thing I fear is losing control enough for it to slip out of my grasp, even though I know that’ll never happen. I feel so… so much hate, so much frustration, I want to scream myself to pieces, but even that wouldn’t be enough. I feel done, sick and tired of everything, sick and tired of having to live here, on this planet.
I feel alone and lonely, but don’t want anyone around me. Not because I fear them, there genuinely is no fear this time around. It’s because I feel I don’t have the patience to deal with bullshit anymore, and most people I’ve known so far have been so out of touch with themselves, that I feel I’ve never actually had anyone. Just sacks of meat desperately pretending that they know who they are so that they won’t have to face who they actually are, what they actually are. On the other hand, I know what I am so fully, so thoroughly, that I simply cannot see anywhere else I could ‘take’ myself. I can’t see where I could elbow some room for myself, and I actively don’t want to. Not as a resignation, I actively feel that I want to not even bother with that shit anymore.
I feel the need to love something, someone, yet I’ve given so goddamned much to everyone that I have Nothing for myself now. And I’m holding on to that Nothing as if my life depended on it, because that emptiness is the only thing that’s left and which still stinks of me. I don’t give a fuck about things, I don’t give a fuck about material possessions, I don’t have and don’t even want to have ambitions, I want everything and nothing at the same time.
I genuinely wish I would lose my mind. I wish I could lose my mind, but I’ve never felt more sane than I do now, as messed up as that is. I feel so concrete and whole, so goddamned functional, that it’s just making things worse, because I can’t even fucking blame myself for it anymore. I don’t want to blame The World™, because I’m so sick and tired of it, I’m so disgusted by it, that I just want to be done with it.
I don’t want to die, either, even though I can’t find a point to any of this shit anymore. This rage is keeping me moving, it makes me WANT to keep moving, it’s more motivation than I’ve ever had in my entire life, and at the same time it’s the thing I hate the most, because in it I see every ounce of crap I’ve had to swallow from my family, from supposed friends, from so-called lovers. But I don’t hate myself, in spite of all of this shit being mine, from me, of me.
I’m a marionette who’s cut off its own strings, who’s freed itself of the puppeteers trying to steer it all its life, and is now dancing out of its own volition and no one else’s, without a hint of direction. I feel sick to my stomach, yet I can’t stomach anything other than bile.
Y’know, I think I may actually be done with everything. I’ve been trying to find a place for myself for over thirty years, almost since the moment I was born, and nothing I’ve ever done has ever been enough for the people around me.
This is absolutely no different, just that I’ve lost any patience and energy I still had to go through this shit. In fact, I’ve moved cities to try to start fresh, yet all that’s happened is that I’ve had to detach myself from my best friend because he’s settling into being a racist and a transphobe.
I am tired and I can’t get any rest anymore. I go to sleep exhausted, I wake up exhausted, and trudge through this shit exhausted. I just can’t do it anymore. I think I simply don’t have the mental fortitude to deal with this shit anymore, to try to build something only to have someone else come into my life and criticise or destroy it. I’m done. I’ll just wait for the end.
(This might be my last message, since life is calling again for me)
If you cant find the positive vibes in you to keep going, then there is another way.
You can keep going out of pure spite for the world that seek to harm you. Otherwiss they just win if you choose to leave this earth. Do you want to let them win?
Its not like this will stay forever and even if there is no comming back, then sit at the brink with legs dangling over the abyss, snack in hand and enjoying the show.
Not the most healthy way of dealing with it, but I found moments where this mindset was very helpfull.
Either way, keep going. Or seek professional help, you know the drill. But dont just let them win.
Kindly, a stranger returning to the stars
Thank you for trying with me, honestly. Feels as though they’ve already won, but I don’t have it in me to end it, so to speak. At least, not from what I’ve seen so far.
I have no idea what I’ll do, and I’m so tired of spite…
Anyway, hope you’ll have better days than mine, thank you once again!