I wish I could die, but I can’t commit to it.

I’m mentally, and emotionally tired, yet I continue to simply “exist.” Despite living in a nice neighborhood, a large house, along with an intact family, I always seem to be unhappy. I don’t know why I constantly allow intrusive thoughts to bring me down in such a gloomy state. I’m consistently irritable over little things, and it seems like I can’t fully appreciate the privileges I’ve held for the longest time.

Then again, I feel I deserve every bit of shit I’m feeling right now. I’ve hurt people, I’ve traumatized the one person I loved, and mostly everyone left me to self-destruct. Every time I think my life is going in a positive direction, I end up fucking it up. I honestly think someone else deserves my spot, and not me. I’m certain there is many individuals out there whom are suffering, and enduring an endless cycle where they have to fend for their lives. While I’m sitting here, simping like a whiny ass. I get it, I shouldn’t be comparing life circumstances, but the cognitive distortion I deal with, tells me otherwise.

I mean, I have supportive friends, and I’m technically not alone, yet I feel that way. How pathetic. I don’t care if the pandemic has factored into this, and whether or not I can’t get out of the house to ease this isolation. This is a recurring theme that may never fade away. All I can do is be “openly patient” with the changes I’m yearning to make. Yea, life isn’t supposed to be easy nor is it supposed to have straight answers. But damn, would it be nice if there was a pill that could simply erase my mental health problems. Or erase the negative feedback loop I barrage my mentality in.

Every night, I think about how my life has been full of lies. I think about the fuck ups, and that I am deserving of the position I’m in. All the achievements I’ve “accomplished”, I ponder if those were even authentic or done just for the sake of accomplishing something. Sure, this could be seen as imposter syndrome, but who knows, maybe I am an imposter. As outlandish as this sounds, I sit in limbo between wanting to die and not wanting to because of the consequences.

On one end, I want to die but on another, I will end up harming a lot of loved ones just because I took the “permanent solution to a temporary phase.” I think about how if I even tried to want to commit to it, I will back out because it’s “too painful” or that my inconsistent willpower will kick in. The fact I’m talking about this, I feel crazy. Whatever, I’m fucking crazy.

Here I am though. Simply existing, and living with my parents feeling like a worthless, pathetic freeloader. I just want it to stop. I just want to not be scared of living. I guess this is karma for all the bullshit I’ve done in the past. Well, I’m paying the price, and I hope everyone is happy about it. At least, I can fade into the unknown. I can finally conform into an identity that no one will understand. I don’t know anymore. I’ll see what happens. For now, I stay floating and drifting on a life that I regret. Maybe I can wake up from this somber nightmare. Maybe I can peacefully sleep in a bliss that I don’t need to wake up from. I’ll see.

November 2, 2020

17:36:30 PM