I have come to the conclusion that my mental state is far more complex and distressing than I'd ever want it it to be or anyone would want it too be for that matter. I am almost violently over aware of my existence and I am motivated almost subconsciously to abstract myself from my current perspective on reality, or what my perspective should be in comparison to what I've learned others to perceive it as. I don't know why but I've always been aware of the fact I'm going to die and that genuinely fucks me up. Idk why but most of my day is me trying to fathom the fact that everything, as complex as the universe and existence is just.. exists. Explaining existence with a creator like "god" is always equally as unsatisfying of an answer because then you question what made that being and it becomes a vicious endless cycle. As humans we can never truly answer everything and be able to comprehend what true nothingness is, like what we believe to be what was before all of this that we know as our reality. I have this idealogy that nothing matters, because truthfully nothing does. Of course life is of value when you make it so and you progress and do productive things and accomplish things but none of that gets taken with you beyond the soil in which you are buried so regardless of how much value you apply to your living existence your live still has no true value. I also don't know if anything outside of my perspective exists, and this is both the easiest and most difficult thing to wrap my head around. Let me put it this way, my brain receives all kinds of impulses and sends them to my sensory organs (eyes, ears, ECT) so everything that exists is literally all in my head. How can you possibly explain reality with out experiencing it. My point being that my reality is just that, it is only ever able to be my perception of it. Is there actually anything outside of what my mind has constructed for me to perceive through my eyes and ears and other sensory organs? If I had stopped existing, would everything else? Is it truly solidified in our existence or is it just a masterpiece created by the casing that holds my consciousness? Assuming I'm not the pedestal of existence, because that's extremely egotistical I'm still going to die and that messes me up why do we live just to be spit back into the universe, why did we get lucky enough to be in the right point in the universe at the right time, pass through all of these barriers as a planet and remain here intact and develop life from things that we can't explain how they develop life. All of that just to die. I think what fucks me up the most about dying is that I've somehow always been aware of it, even since I was a kid. I've also always been aware of how strangely time works, not completely but I knew it never made sense. I can say I'm having a midlife crisis, even though it isn't the middle of my biological life.I can say that because of the way we perceive time. See the early twenties is more accurately perceived to be the "middle of life" due to the fact that as we age time appears to be moving in smaller increments. For example when you are 1 a year is 100 percent of your life (assuming you live 100 years which is obviously unlikely) and when you are two it's 50 percent and so on. By the time you are 90 one year is a ridiculously small portion of what you have lived that it seems like nothing and that is also why as a child time seemed to pass much slower. So all though at 19 with many more years I am already at a point where one year is such a small percentage of what I have already experienced so it seems that my time left is much shorter. All in all I'm having a really hard time trying to convince myself anything is real and that anything matters.
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