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if i look back, i am lost

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@explosionsinthestoneage
lost lost lost
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I don’t think there’s ever been a time in my life when I’ve been more desperate to have someone. Just to have a friend. Just to have someone, anyone. Jesus fucking Christ I am as alone as I have ever been and I am crumbling in a way that I thought I never would again. I am so desperate, so unbelievably, pathetically desperate to just have a person that I can speak honestly to. Speak without any walls put up, none of the practiced deflections I use every time a conversation actually goes somewhere substantive and honest for once and demands some level of personal admission from me, no irony or sarcasm to bury how pathetic I truly feel literally all of the time. Just... communicate truthfully. I don’t remember the last time I did that. I can’t even speak honestly with my mom anymore. We used to speak honestly. About how she was like me when she was my age, always lonely and closed off and never really having friends and never really feeling too enthusiastic about being alive or doing anything at all. About how it can change later in life. About how my dad wouldn’t be as ashamed of me as I constantly convince myself he would be. It was comforting. But I can’t anymore. I cant allow myself to. I can’t allow myself to be that weak. I can’t selfishly offload my problems onto her just so I can feel her weight lifted off of me for a brief instant. The second I open my mouth to spill something, I hold my tongue. She’s got enough shit to deal with. I can’t burden her with my own. Not anymore.
Even writing this, which will be seen by nobody, and if it is I’m certain no one will give half a shit because why should they - I feel guilty for wasting the time of anyone exposed to it or to me in any way.
I find myself constantly wondering why I’m living. Not in an existential or philosophical way - just in an immediate and literal way. I don’t really have anything in my life that makes me feel fulfilled or happy. The only good feeling I ever get is from eating like shit, escaping through movies or shows or whatever, and any other form of escapism that’ll get my mind numb enough to forget myself. I used to feel good when people would compliment me or praise me for something I’d done. I was well aware back then that it was just empty validation I was feeling and that it wasn’t something that I should cling to or allow to truly affect me, but I felt it anyway. I clung to the validation of others like drops of water after I’d been stranded in a desert for months. But now, even that doesn’t do anything. It actually just makes things worse. If someone says something positive to me I immediately feed it into an equation in my head to figure out why they could possibly be saying this, and usually the answer I get is something like ‘they’re just trying to make me feel better because they know how fucking awful I look and I’m not doing a good enough job of hiding how much I’m struggling’. And then I feel worse. And I self sabotage further. And then I feel worse. And I think about why the fuck I’m alive if I feel this way all the time. And then I really think about that a lot. And then I picture my sister, and I picture my mom, and I try to put an end to those thoughts. But it’s hard. It’s so hard. This is all so hard. I don’t know what the fuck else to say. Every second of writing this I have guilt rushing through me, it feels like it’s contaminated my blood and it’s pounding through my body, trying to burst out of my veins and my eyes and my ears. It is physically a part of me. This does not feel mental, it does not feel contained to my brain. I feel like I carry it with my everywhere. Physically. Just guilt, and shame. Of how pathetic I am, how unlikable, unlovable I am, how I’ve fucked it all up. How it’s only going to continue downhill.
I feel like I used to be more poetic when I’d do things like this. Be able to coat the admissions of weakness with at least something nice and flowery and poetic that made it seem more than selfish venting. But that was years ago. I’m just struggling and don’t have anyone to talk to and figured here’s probably just as good as the wall of my bedroom or the pages of my journal or the pavement around the corner from my house where my family can’t hear me talk out loud to myself, all of which have probably heard enough from me for the time being.
“The Eye of Mrs. Fitzherbert”, R. Cosway, 1786
Nilhist wholesome comic
I feel sad and lonely. All the time. Then I get into some topic, movie or artist, obsess about it/them to distract myself which also is not healthy at all. I'm 25 now. I know that's not that much, but I keep feeling like my life isn't going to turn around. It's always been like this. When I think back, there's just sadness. And when I look forward, it's the same. I need medication or something. I made an appointment. I hope it's going to be okay. But I'm afraid this is the life for me. : (
I picked your question to answer because I think that a lot of people are going to read your question and go “Oh shit, that sounds like me”. And I’m betting that most of the people who relate to your question would be people that, if you could see them out and about in the world, would seem to have their shit together and be healthy, well-adjusted adults. Inner lives often feel different than outer lives look.
As a whole, we are a group of humans that has evolved past the point of mere survival, and therefore we have the luxury of contemplating our existences, and thinking big thoughts like “what the hell am I doing with my time?”. It is a luxury, whether we realize it or not. I get most existential when I am playing video games. Nothing makes you realize how pointless most things are than having a video game file corrupt- first you go “All my work down the drain!” and then you go “Oh fuck I’m considering this work?” and then you go “Oh fuck I was obsessed with this game and it’s gone and it doesn’t matter at all” and then you go “I should go to more museums” and then you walk outside into the rain and shake your fists at the sky.
Life is best lived when you aren’t thinking too much about the methods of living it. You strike me as a person with a lovely analytical mind, and that mind, at the age of 25, is surveying your life and wondering “really is this it? aren’t I supposed to be making magic every day with my close friends and having deep talks and sitting on a riverbed blowing dandelions?” And those lovely moments, often captured in commercials and TV shows and movies, is part of a life. But another part of life is becoming obsessed with Stranger Things, or with Overwatch, or with the baseball season.
My advice to you is threefold:
1) Find a way to connect with other people who are obsessed with the things you’re obsessed with. Online is good, but in person is better. Go places where people who love the things you do gather. Be among them. You don’t have to be the star of the show, but be among others. Our pop culture obsessions can be fantastic threads that keep us knitted to other people. Don’t let them isolate you. I promise you, other people are obsessed with the things you are obsessed with.
2) Become obsessed with your own life a bit. Check in on your friendships and your family relationships, and nurture them as if they were a new Netflix show. Spend time with them. Exercise every day, and keep track of it in an app. Empty out your brain into a laptop or notebook. Try a hobby that isn’t about you consuming things, but creating things- this could be sculpting Play-Doh, or writing, or putting a jigsaw puzzle together, or woodworking, or gardening. I used to be obsessed with boys- like, I kept a notebook full of details about their movements and their opinions and what they wore. In my 20s I tried an experiment where I did the exact same thing but with myself. I literally started keeping obsessive track of myself. I created theories of why I acted how I did. I wrote down what I wore. I wrote down my favorite songs at the time. It was a fun experiment.
3) Give yourself a little bit of a break. You are normal. You are not alone in feeling weirdly alone. You don’t need to punish yourself for your distractions and obsessions- ultimately that’s kinda what life is. Aren’t we lucky that there are so many things to be interested in?
I’m so happy you’re seeing someone about how you’re feeling, because feeling persistently sad and lonely is something you can improve upon in therapy, but I think you may find that what needs to be adjusted is your thoughts about your life more so than your life itself.
I still come back to this every couple of months.
me: wow im lonely
also me: *disassociated from everyone, doesn’t respond to texts or calls AND doesn’t go out*
Liv Tyler
Raining rainbows