I have nothing to say anymore.
“This clock shows only mythical hours
These books show only fictional days
One system is only as good as another
I don't think you're listening
I think I'll tell you again
I just thought you'd like to know”
Comsat Angels - Postcard
My blogs are crap.
All I am doing is spewing out the malady, the emptiness and futility that are the basic elements of my very essence. Other than that there is nothing.
I have no aspirations or dreams. I have no skill sets to put in to use. No interests to pursue. My attempts to study(they are legion and have amounted to absolutely nothing) have shown to me that I will never amount to much. I drift through life aimlessly.
I have had anger issues most of m
Red pill/Blue pill. Matrix. Deja vu. I’m sure I have written about this before. Oh well. Rinse and repeat.
It wasn’t so much the actual movie as the concept of questioning reality.
When is life (not) worth living? What “reality” do we live in?
You see boys and girls, I can only see things in terms of Big Picture. The minutiae of life are actually lost to me. The details. Don’t. Interest me. Cause that is where the devil is.
Once you have seen the world/life/existence from
I've been angry and bitter most of my life. I don't live, I just exist. I have come to realize I don't like other people much either. I despise myself and humanity in general.
I have felt like this as long as I remember. I don't think life is worth the effort, I don't think I have ever felt anything really worth the effort.
I have just floated through existence. I feel no pull to anything, no passion for anything. I feel more alive than dead.
If it wasn't for this anger and pen
The scales have been dropping before my eyes and I see clearer than ever.
It's not that I suddenly lost interest in stuff like living, your job, wife, kids, day to day..
I have never been interested with the mundane in the first place. I realized a while back, that as I tried desperately to find a "reference group" in my youth, people I have something in common with, I lost a bit of myself. Later on I was desperately looking for someone. To share my life with. To not feel so .. isolate
The meaning of (my) life or lack thereof.
Every single answer seems to miss the point. Not that there really is answer to the "meaning of life".
NOTHING makes sense to me. Nothing seems real. Nothing speaks to me. Everything just begs for the additional question:"But Why????"
The thing is, I need a reason. I need a why. Because without that, I might as well be dead. In fact I AM dead.
Life, just doesn't stand to any kind of scrutiny.
"So stop (over) thinking".
I have mentioned this before, I believe.
One of my first memories was the Apollo 11 mission, Armstrong, Aldrin, Collins, June 1969. To be honest, I probably didn't see it live nor really remember it at the time. But my first long standing "what do you want to be when you grow up" - dream was to be an astronaut. To see the stars "up there", perhaps the rings of Saturn too and a galaxy or three á la Star Trek, cause surely we would be there by 2001!!
I would remember Aldrin or Armstrong
Back in the day I was lucky enough to see the gritty and realistic movie ”Made in Britain”. It’s a drama tragedy of a sixteen year old skinhead on a collision course with pretty much everything. Tim Roth is absolutely amazing as the angry young racist skinhead, Trevor. I believe it was his first major role.
I was drawn to the sheer intensity of Trevor. I felt sorry for him and even then I realized I had more in common with him than I would openly admit.
I was often confused as a s
The concept "core value" has never really made much sense to me.
I see nothing in my life, or indeed in anyone elses lives, or in the human populated world around us to think that something like "core values" could be anything other than a convinient umbrella term for a set of ad hoc rules we conjour to help us plod through our respective (pointless) existences.
Now all of the above is just me being.. well me, the perpetual pessimist, the "second guesser", the constant glass half empty
Depression. The catchphrase of our time. It explains everything and absolutely nothing at all (IMHO).
As long as we treat mental illness as something not “us”, we are missing the point entirely. There is ALWAYS an element of personal characteristics involved with mental health issues. There are always environmental aspects to so called mood disorders, “personality disorders”, schizophrenia and bipolar too.
I discovered something online(yes I know, the danger of self diagnosis bla
I believe a circle of sorts has just closed.
Today I met someone after five years. Someone who in fact sent me on the current path(in my head that is) I am now on, the path some of of you have witnessed these few years I have been posting on df. It was the same young woman I mentioned in one of my early threads.
Here's a link if anyone is interested:
Basically it was a work place infatuation that was one-sided and more to the point nothing happened. In fact she was probably unawa
Some of us will never have a chance for a better life. Some of us will be losers for the rest of our lives..
Sorry, I'll rephrase that. You reading this will NEVER be losers.
Some of us are dead within and stay that way until we are also physically gone. Because some of us are spiritually, intellectually and some of us also physically impoverished and handicapped for life in a world that strives for conformity and compliance and doesn't give a rats ass as to who we truly are or who we
I realized yesterday how much people drain me. How much I get pis sed off with people.
It is the interaction I find taxing. The more I have to be involved, the harder it gets.
I have no idea what I want.
The Saints got it right.
In essence this is how I perceive my life. Every choice in the world open for me is either meaningless or the lesser evil.
I just sent a memo to parties concerned about career development at work just an hour ago. Thing is I don’t want to work there at all anymore. But finding another job, a job that I would finally be comfortable with is impossible. I’m too old. Age discrimination is a reality, especially for someone without a decent degree, ambition or passion for anything. I still have
That's what I do. There is an Urge within me.. a Want That Has No Name.
Don't get me wrong. I AM making an effort. I'm trying to come to terms with this Hunger. The emptiness i feel is raging. It needs to be filled. I'm at a loss as to what with. I AM active. I even socialize, even though it's against my nature. People..I don't really understand them. Neither do I really understand myself. If there even is a "me".
As it stands, I don't know who I am. What I am here for. What my dreams
I've been told I am not a failure by quite a few good people on df.
The thing is I KNOW I am a failure. Here's why.
I'm as insecure and with as little self esteem at 51 as I was at 15. I began to realize then how I wasn't really cut out for school or for anything else for that matter. I wasn't good at anything. Though I half heartedly sticked to studying or whatever hobby that happened to catch my lack-lustre interest, I was never more than lower average in anything I did. I never qu
Not that I ever feel I'm not alone. I feel isolated, stranded, even in company. There is no point opening my heart to people. After they realize the extent of my pessimism and nihilism people back off. I don't blame them. So from now on I keep my mouth shut. I don't see much point hanging around on df either. All I do is repeat myself. Either I find other means to get out of hell or I just f....off, out of this life. I've had it.
Self-hate/loathing/ alternate. If not that, I feel empty.
Self-acceptance..how the ff does that work when the "me" is the problem? I see my life as non-descript and boring at best, void of anything resembling fulfillment and/or satisfaction. I am a failure and a drop-out of life. No interests, no passion, no drive. A non existent attention span and at this age lost any sense of hope, if it was there in the first place. I have no self-esteem to speak of.
I've said this before, I am emp
A diagnosis of sorts.
Mixed personality disorder (borderline and depressive with a dash of who knows what). A year ago my doc at the time was pretty sure I was suffering from a version of bipolar or cyclothymia. This could, in fact, still be the case. Personality disorders and bipolar/cyclothymia aren't mutually exclusive.
Nevertheless, personality disorder it is (whatever that really means) for the time being. I need to get a therapist next, apparently.
There are so many contrad
Sometimes life is like a new bar
Plastic seats, alcohol below par
Food with no taste, music grates
I'm living too late
Once talking was my favourite while
But now I know a conversation's end
Before it's done
Maybe I'm living too long
Living too Late
I can swallow it down Keep it all inside I define myself By how well I hide Feel it coming apart Well, at least I tried I can win this war By knowing not to fight If I take it all back Someway, somehow If I knew back then What I know right now
Nine inch nails
Me, I'm not
Dissatisfaction. Emptiness. Unhappiness. Disquiet.
But empty sums up what actually consitutes me. I wouldn't even know what "getting better" means in my case. I don't really want anything. I don't have passion or drive for anything. All there is is a greyness and a sense of being stuck in a dead end. I don't know who I am. I don't like this non-person writing these words.
I don't want to live. I don't really value life. If you can't give meaning to life yourself you are pretty much scr
It's where I always end up.
It's one of the main reasons I feel i'm a loser. I have no prospects being the age I am. I have no interests and no drive for anything. I also suffer from a form of attention deficiency and I have no stamina for long term studying. So no degree or diploma to speak of.
I'm constantly dissatisfied.
People are happy enough with my performance at work but it's become apparent they want to keep me where I am- in the dead-endness. It's mostly blue collar wor
I don't know if this is permenant. But I've had enough. I'm sorry to say that being on df is triggering me to no end.
I have bouts of paranoia and there are times when I think some of you aren't real. Other times it's just the fact that so many of us are not getting any better despite the treatment we are getting.
Then there is the travesty of my so called treatment. four psychiatrists in 9 months and the only consistent factor about the "help" I'm getting is that the appointments were