Passage 2 - The Toll of Existence
TW: Suicide
It's never the disassociation but rather the re-association. The moment where I come back to my senses and realized I am alive. Realize that this is life and I have no other option but to keep going. Right now, writing this for some reason makes me really sad. The fact that there's no pause. And the only time we get a break is at the end. It's not that I fear death, it's just I'm not running towards it, even though my mental want me to not be here, at least not like this. The toll of existence. The pain of growth.
I think I have self esteem issues. That's what I get for believing everyone that was said to me. Most of this, where I'm at now, good or bad, is my fault. Not entirely a bad reality, but, nevertheless, one I am left to live with. I just never though that the people who claimed to love me would ever treat me like that. But they did, and still do. It's my fault. I let them. See, when you spend your life as a doormat, you only care about finding your way to make it as a rug. Even though all you're doing is tryin to get in the house, people are still to walk over you. But I don't necessarily want to be the human in that metaphor either.
Every time I feel like I have that intrusive thought to kill myself, I am just going to write the hypothetical letter to those I would leave behind. Right now it would probably read: this isn't because of you. For once, I finally need to make a decision that was my own. Selfish, admittedly, maybe. But a good part of me believed you wouldn't know or be bother by the distance. The numbing only does so much. Eventually you seek out feeling. It's just when you feel as if that loop is fixed, set in stone, your sense kick in to try to escape using all methods available. in a moment of transparency, I hate myself. And also the reality of the things I care about. Who the fuck cares about sports or.. I think thats my only hobby. Being a consumer. Reliving moments that I will never get back, trying to spark emotions and endorphins that are long gone. Watching other fulfill their childhood dreams, as I sit, bored and lifeless in my room, question the validity of the fantasies I have.. or had. I won't be back to tell you if it was worth it. If I made the right decision or if I overreacted to the common pressures of life. If I should've just sucked it up and put on a face, you know the mental health make up. A fake smile, say I'm fine and then walk away from whatever meaningless back and forth we call conversation knowing that my performance wasn't the most convincing but it did the job. How can God be angry for us trying to see him? How could he cast those to hell for trying to escape hell on earth? If everything he said and did is true, why wouldn't I expired the process of seeing the Pearly Gates?
05.21.2021 - 7:55











