Babies, I feel hopelessness most of the time.  I am so far under, I am usually sure I’ll never make it back to the surface.  Any period of time I don’t feel this way is due to distraction.

I don’t blame the world, or circumstances, or luck, or the devil, I blame myself.  Things are bad because of me and things will stay bad because of me, I think.

I’m not mentally ill in the sense you might have been told.  I’ve just learned to think the wrong way and now I don’t think it’s worth learning to think in a better way.

I’ve spent a lot of time convincing myself that life doesn’t matter and then recently a really powerful argument was made to me, one I’ve thought of before, but it made an impact this time: If when you’re dead, you’re gone, then how can you regret having killed yourself?

A counter argument: But if you’re in pain now and when you die you’re gone then how will you experience relief?

But, we’re all going to die… it’s just a matter of when.

Compounding my problem are thoughts of worthlessness.  I don’t feel I can produce and if I consume more than I produce then things will always get worse and it makes sense to just stop consuming.  Not being around would be an outright public service.

A friend of mine is considering suicide.  I couldn’t say anything constructive because any argument for life, from me, would be disingenuous.  Heck, I’d just be regurgitating things other people say, not things I feel.  

I did say that I would miss this person.

The frustrating thing for me is that I have a skill which is most likely to make an individual entrepreneur good money with little or no investment except labor.  I don’t need teams of people, I don’t need to build physical objects, I don’t need to convince a publisher to market a book.

I don’t do anything.

I won’t kill myself either.

I’m just being dramatic.  ๐Ÿ™‚


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