Content warning, I guess.
This is an emergency blog post. I have been either physically, emotionally, or technically incapable of accessing this blog for the past week or so. This is a status update for all none of you interested parties: Unbearably neutral things are happening to me. New school? It's fine. Getting dragged between two houses? I'm alright with it. Mental-emotional state? It's spiraling, baby. Spiraling like a mind-controlled pervert's hand down a garbage disposal. Every now and then, I've glimpsed death; People kill themselves. People are on the internet. It follows, then, that people on the internet kill themselves. A lot. That's depressing, especially since most of them were good, kindly, interesting people who always seemed to have a lot of life to take in one fell swoop. I've had to talk people out of bad situations before, thankfully nothing so extreme as imminent suicide, but I have come to accept that some day, some how, someone I know or love or look up to will crack, and I won't be able to stop them. I think it's healthy to conceptualize these people as just beyond your capabilities. If you couldn't help them, you couldn't. They were "too far gone." I'm very scared of this concept, as of now. I feel like I might be too far gone. I have a good life, a very above average life compared to most of the global populace, but it's never enough. I'm nearly always too tired, too depressed, too fucked in the head to feel good about anything. It shouldn't be hard to see the bright side of life. It is, after all, mostly bright sides at this point. I want very badly to intellectualize this. I want to make some genius argument to myself that will utterly convince me that my life is going to get more bearable and everything is going to okay if I just wait. I've been waiting too long. More and more as of late I've wondered if I was born to die, if maybe I am simply engineered by some thoughtless cascade of conceptual dice-rolls to be completely incapable of making it out of this alive. I feel like a tortured artist without being tortured or an artist. I think suicide is a stupid, awful decision, one of the worst a person can make, the decision that excludes all others. I so constantly relate to the kind of person who does it, though, I recognize how much I have, how much I have to lose, how many would mourn me and be completely lost as to how I could be so delusional, so ignorant, so fucking stupid as to leave everything behind. They were too far gone. I want to believe I'm not too far gone.
This isn't a "talking myself off the edge" post, or at least I hope not. I hope this is just more desperate, angst-y wankery. Honestly, I'm terrified. I want to tell myself to stick with it, but I'm just so fatigued. I only hope I'm strong enough to make it through this. People like me need real problems.
Normal posting will resume shortly.
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