Repeating Myself

Wednesday, May 24th, 2023

The more I write down my thoughts and emotions. The more I feel like I’m repeating myself.  As if I’m using different words to describe the same thing.

It feels like I’m dealing with more than one mental issue but at the same time they can all be summed up into one fixable issue.

Maybe I really am being overdramatic. Maybe there is truly nothing wrong with me. Maybe I should find someone to love. Maybe I should reach out. Then everything will be fine. I just need to rely on people more for me to feel better. But then I would be the very person I don’t want to be come.

So will I be able to find the balance between relying on people and not be that on toxic narcissist.

I have no future goals. Just current projects. I have no career aspirations. Just hobbies I falsely hope will take me some where. To live a happier life.

I complain too much about myself. I complain about the littlest things. I don’t have the right to complain. My life is perfect.

I have everything I want. I have food that I don’t care about. I have a job. I have money. I have a roof over my head. I have clothes that I wear only indoors since I only go outside once every blue moon.

I have everything.

I should be grateful for everything that I have while also striving for more.

I should just man up.

Am I just that void of emotions?

Is there really something wrong with me?

I am always telling myself I wish I could get it over with, I wish I could just die. I repeat this phrase everyday in my own head to no stop and yet I am still alive. I want to end it all but instead write how I feel in the false hope that my thoughts won’t be the death of me.

I just wish I could finally get it over with. I want to finally end the constant spiraling of emotions. Not knowing how to deal with them by myself.

These entries are from my thoughts, a word I see, the drama I hear, or going back to one of my previous entries and elaborating on a specific line. Almost each one saying how much I want to die, whether or not it’s by my hand or someone else’s. I would sometimes have reassuring nightmare of someone putting a bullet in me. It would feel so real. Each time my body would fight to stay alive, but I would force my mind to relax and let it go.

It’s like I am giving myself a reason to complain on how shitty my life is when there are people suffering far more than me and the people who are doing better in life and keep reminding me as if I sound feel good that I am doing through what they are. Like it’s some sort of sick accomplishment.

Well if people are going through worse. Then what’s the point of me breathing then. If people are going through worse then I do you want me to live then. If I am so ungrateful then just have another child. It’s as simple as one, two, three.

You know the saying, “I brought you into this world and I can take you out.”

Well if you really feel that way, then let me save you from doing time behind bars.

Every waking day and sleepless night I think about ending all the second I am alone. So why don’t I get it over with already instead of complaining so much. Instead of being in this constant cycle of mental exhaustion and taking a blade to my arms just so I can feel something else. It’s because I still have people to lose.

I just want to know when does it end. When will I finally come to terms with this and finally seek therapy? When will I finally gain the courage to end it all? This constant cycle complaining back and forth to no but myself.

Word Count: 687