I want to go

I don’t want to hurt you, but I want to go. You want me to keep on going in the pattern that is usual, that is normal, because then you can keep on believing that there is progress; you can keep on believing that I haven’t fallen outside the system and outside society. You want me not to go because then you can be safe, then you can be in control. I don’t want you to judge, be unsafe or worrying, or even missing me, but I want to go. I can stay, keep on going, get old, reminisce about the past, but I want to go. I can stay while I wait for death, but I want to go. I want to go because I believe in life. I don’t want to live half way, because that’s not life. Life is full and whole. I believe in a life where you’re alive. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want you to spend time wondering and worrying, but I want to go. Live knowing that I am better now. I don’t want to be in a prison where I’m just waiting to die .. therefore I’m going. Don’t be afraid. I’m not alone, but I want to go. I want to find life.

I wrote this October 2011, which is nearly one and a half year ago. I still want to go. I never did. I was too stuck on living by the rules. The only way I would ever break them was to write something like this. But this was real, and it still is. The only difference is now maybe I’m brave enough to go do. I want to go, I want to find life, and be alive.

Doesn’t it piss you off when someone says that you choose to feel miserable?

When people tell you that you choose to be depressed and miserable, and that you should just get over it already.
This is one of the worst things! I mean it’s nothing compared to murder and cancer and wars and starving and all that stuff. But it’s one of those mindsets that just ticks me off. I get so mad, and frustrated. And hurt.

If I could choose how to feel I would choose to feel happy and satisfied and fulfilled every single day! (Or maybe I wouldn’t .. I don’t really know, because I don’t know how it is to be feeling like that for a longer period than some hours.) I would NEVER choose to be miserable, apathetic, hopeless and similar. Sometimes I would probably be sad or frustrated, because those are healthy feelings! but feeling depressed and feeling sad are two ENTIRELY different things. And I wish people who have never experienced it could realize that too. I mean it sucks that it ‘takes one to know one’.

Really it shouldn’t even matter what the people around you say. And I know that. I know that those who matters don’t mind and those who mind don’t matter and so on and so forth. But it gets to me still. Because I just don’t understand how anyone could even say that. Where is the logic.

I mean, I see that someone can be afraid of getting better. And that someone is afraid of being happy. I see that. But I would never go that far as to assume and accuse them of not wanting to get better. Or that their misery is their own fault.

YES, I take responsibility for my own life. YES, I work towards getting better. YES, I want to get better and be happy with all my heart. But no matter how much I want it, or work on it, or realize that it’s all on me: it doesn’t make it happen overnight! It just doesn’t!

Honestly I sometimes tell myself this too, because I feel like the majority of people think like this, and they can’t be wrong, right? So I tell myself I can choose to be happy and choose to not be sick anymore … and how delusional is that!? It’s like believing a broken leg will heal just because you snapped your fingers. And hey, it’s not many who will believe that!
So I tell myself, do all that stuff that a healthy and wellbeing person would do, and that you really want to do, and that you are so disappointed that you haven’t been able to do, just DO IT! And you know what happens? I crash! Same way a person with a broken leg won’t be able to walk on it, I’m not able to do those things. And in stead of helping me, thinking like that actually disappoints me even more. And it sets me back.

To hear someone say: Just pull it together! makes me wanna die. Because hey, I don’t manage to pull it together, but I obviously should be able to, and I’m not so, probably this life isn’t for me right? No it’s wrong. It is for me. It’s just that you can’t just pull yourself together from being sick and miserable.
Yeah sure you can stop whining and being sad about your boyfriend breaking up with you (I mean you could be depressed about that too, but you know what I mean) and you can realize one week on the couch after getting laid off that it’s time to get out there again. But it’s not like you can snap out of a depression or a really low low.

I wish you could though…

Existential shit

I have been thinking a lot lately. Honestly I believe I’ve been thinking a lot my entire life. But anyroads … You know how my last post was that I kept realizing that it’s all just bullshit. That this life is just fuck. I mean, I’m not saying that the world is just a bad place, because it’s a wonderful place. But still it’s just nothing you know. But I felt like the realization of this world being just bullshit, was something that told me to die. Or just like another reason to give up on life. Another reason to not want to pull through this. I felt like the world being meaningless was a surefire reason to just get the hell out of life.

But then someone says something to me, something they had been told when they were feeling the same way I was feeling. “Yeah, life is meaningless, and isn’t that nice?” And I’m like, wtf? EXACTLY, it is meaningless and therefore we all can just go jump off a cliff you know. And she tells me that she felt the same way at first, and had been like, ‘what is your problem?’. And that is basically what I’m feeling towards her, that she obviously doesn’t understand since she can say something SO STUPID. But you know what I realize now? I’m the stupid one.

I’m so darn hung up on finding meaning in this shit that I spend my life, I spend my days, my hours, my minutes being miserable. And maybe there is a meaning and maybe there’s not. But no matter which one is right, we got this life. And we can do what we want to do with it. We can kill ourselves trying to figure out what it’s all about, or we can just fucking live.

I’m not saying I can chose the depression to disappear or that I can chose that my functionality in my life just goes from 20% to 110% just within the blink of an eye because I made a choice or had a thought. I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying that realizing that you will never really know what the point is, and that YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE for your own life, can make something snap inside of you. Why are we dreaming about dying, is it because we are hoping to find more meaning and reason and purpose there? Maybe there’s no point in life, but there sure aren’t any point in death either as far as we know.

I don’t know. Seriously I don’t know. I don’t know where I’m gonna go. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t know who I am! I don’t know any of the existential shit that you keep worrying, wondering and nagging yourself about. But does it matter. I am and I breathe and I live even though I don’t know.