Why is life so much suffering? (venting/valid anyway)

[lmfao]

None of this bullshit about self help is true for some of us, the best I can hope for is pump myself up full of anti depressant happy chemicals and live a life of an undead zombie. 

"Healing", "consciousness", this has done Jack shit for me. I've plunged to the depths of suffering, done a shit tonne of inquiry and contemplation, and it's made ZERO difference, in fact my life keeps getting worse and worse for the past year with no hope in sight. 

 "shadow work", this shit literally isn't real for me. Seems like I've spiralled down and that's that, literally nothing else. No such thing as "integration". 

I know I've fragmented myself, because I absolutely could not and cannot stand what I've been my entire life. That's why I don't let myself relax, why I don't take meds, because I'm having a borderline psychotic rage where I just don't give a fuck about anything anymore. 

For some reason I'm anxious and on edge constantly like some badly scarred war Vietnam veteran, when I fucking live in my room and jerk off to anime children. 

 

 

On top of basically neglecting myself recently, I caught a virus flu which is enough to make me snap in angony at how painful it is. Such a minor thing for someone else being enough to make me snap. 

I must be semi delirious from the stress because I was walking to the store to buy painkiller meds and I felt like I was walking in a dream outside.

 

But,I'm trying to relax now, no other choice. But then I know it will mean FUCK ALL in the long run about anything, there is no healing or training or development from this, maybe for others, but I'm way too far gone. 

Materialism, physicality, genetics and environment rule my domain, and I was simply given the worst hand I could possibly imagine. LITERALLY no good stats, just a narcissistic fagg0t who's tired of saying they want to kill themselves. Bitches don't care about the size of your absolutely pointless and useless psuedo-intellectual philosophy dick. 

The moment I relax I know ill have to face reality and SEE that I'm a weak nerd with no prospects, destined to be trampled on and spat on. I'm fucking done and I'm so fucking pissed. If the gods so destined it then so be it, I'll take a piss on what's left. 

--

I remember walking outside my home, just this one particular time it really struck me a couple weeks ago, about to go meet some friends. 

I was feeling like my normal self but my self felt like some completely fake costume and it got me all hysterical and angry in defensiveness thinking about it. This is truly fucked because I do not want to face myself, face reality, go through a million tribulations just to end up as paralysed scum at the very bottom again. 

 

Okay my throat stopped hurting thanks to paracetamol, only adrenaline left now 

This is literally like that time in morroco you had a throat infection and broke down in the desert 

Just high on adrenaline rn though 

Edited November 25, 2021 by lmfao

[mandyjw]

35 minutes ago, lmfao said:

I was feeling like my normal self but my self felt like some completely fake costume and it got me all hysterical and angry in defensiveness thinking about it. This is truly fucked because I do not want to face myself, face reality, go through a million tribulations just to end up as paralysed scum at the very bottom again. 

That's the difference between a thought that feels bad because it's wrong and feeling. You're owning feeling in order to keep on believing shitty thoughts. That feel bad. So it feels bad. 

Your expression of this inspired my own rant.

Imagine being able to see just how brilliant, loved and beautiful people are. Like... they just fucking glow. You know. You know. Even they feel it. The reason they feel negative emotion is because they keep insisting on believing thought about themselves to the contrary. They've got it entirely twisted around. Their relationship to self, to emotion. They think they are the opposite of what they really are. 

How the fuck, do you convince someone how loved they really are? When you are, all you feel for them, all you see that that brilliant love, how do you?

Imagine that you're Dumbledore or Hagrid, looking in on Harry Potter living with the Dursleys. You know he is magic. You love him. You know great things are in store for him, revelations, love, adventure. But he doesn't know this yet. His letter for Hogwarts hasn't arrived yet. It will. It gets better.  You aren't Harry Potter. You aren't a hero. You don't have to prove yourself. You're the author. 

What you don't know is that you wrote this. You wrote this. You know it, don't you? You wrote this.

You get to... YOU GET TO write your letter to Hogwarts. You get to write this how you want it to go. 

You don't know how powerful you really are. How loved, you really are. The love is in your love, the love of character is primarily love of/from author. You get to dis-cover it. There's no cover to this book. No beginning, no end. 

[Nahm]

Love to chat, anytime. (No cost)

Gap between ‘there’ and clarity kinda too big for text. 

Fair warning though, we shall inevitably be lofao. 

[Gesundheit2]

The darkest hour is just before the dawn.