I've been thinking about suicide multiple times a day probably for 7 years now. I get so caught up in my thought cycles that I hardly even realized that this isn't normal and would probably sound insane to normies.
Really it started with the onset of OCD around the age of 13. It runs in my family and I had it pretty bad for a while. I remember at my most abject, I thought to myself that there was nothing worse than the mental anguish of intrusive thoughts, and not even the pains of loneliness can compare. After some long, agonizing years, I was able to improve most of my symptoms with exposure response prevention. You would think that at that point things would be looking up for me. But looking back, I don't think anything really changed. It just freed my mind up to become more focused on my loneliness and sexual frustration. Eventually, my state of abjection became so unbearable that I had to get laid immediately. Nothing else in life seemed to even matter. So I went to europe for a whole month to find gigastacy escorts and frequent brothels. Losing my virginity and getting to fuck big boobs gigastacys was nowhere near the transformative experience I thought it was, however, and I came back to my empty and meaningless existence, the exact same as it was before.
Really, I think schopenhauer is right that the world is an unfolding suffering. Any temporary fulfillment of one desire just leads to the emergence of a new one, and we are never able to be truly satisfied. I don't think I've ever been truly happy once in my entire life. There's just no use in going on. My life is empty and devoid of any real meaning or purpose. I hate this world that is so hostile to me, and that I am so fundamentally disconnected from. Suicide seems to be the only escape from this world of unbearable suffering. It's honestly a minor miracle that I've even made it this far. I have my indecision to thank for that. If I was any more courageous I would probably be dead already.
Really it started with the onset of OCD around the age of 13. It runs in my family and I had it pretty bad for a while. I remember at my most abject, I thought to myself that there was nothing worse than the mental anguish of intrusive thoughts, and not even the pains of loneliness can compare. After some long, agonizing years, I was able to improve most of my symptoms with exposure response prevention. You would think that at that point things would be looking up for me. But looking back, I don't think anything really changed. It just freed my mind up to become more focused on my loneliness and sexual frustration. Eventually, my state of abjection became so unbearable that I had to get laid immediately. Nothing else in life seemed to even matter. So I went to europe for a whole month to find gigastacy escorts and frequent brothels. Losing my virginity and getting to fuck big boobs gigastacys was nowhere near the transformative experience I thought it was, however, and I came back to my empty and meaningless existence, the exact same as it was before.
Really, I think schopenhauer is right that the world is an unfolding suffering. Any temporary fulfillment of one desire just leads to the emergence of a new one, and we are never able to be truly satisfied. I don't think I've ever been truly happy once in my entire life. There's just no use in going on. My life is empty and devoid of any real meaning or purpose. I hate this world that is so hostile to me, and that I am so fundamentally disconnected from. Suicide seems to be the only escape from this world of unbearable suffering. It's honestly a minor miracle that I've even made it this far. I have my indecision to thank for that. If I was any more courageous I would probably be dead already.
