I'm experiencing somewhat of an existential crisis at the moment. Emotionally I fail to see the point of everything, basically based on nothing working out, being pointless and emotional stuff being useless when it comes down to it. Why waste so much energy on things which don't matter?
Besides, I'm burdened with a body I simply can not live with, that much is becoming clear to me these past few weeks. If I didn't keep myself in check rationally, I'd have done the most horrible things to my body and probably committed suicide already. There just isn't any point in living when it comes to emotional stuff.
Earlier today I had a discussion with Pieter on this topic, and he really can't see my point, let alone understand my situation. I have had to deal with an in my eyes useless body which is always frustratingly beyond understanding. At this point it's pretty clear that I'll never get any answers to my questions about it. I don't expect to hear back from the US hospitals and I don't expect anyone else to help me. I do not expect anyone to happen, ever, to help me understand what kind of freakish body I ended up with.
These thoughts lead to a rejection of emotions due to self-protection, a very negative outlook on things other people consider normal and even pleasant, yet which fill me with loathing and even disgust. And what I'm going through these past few days is absolutely nothing compared to any time before. At any point before this I had the thin, but ever-present security blanket of the hospitals in this country to deal with, and the hope that if I got famous enough someone, somewhere in this country would step forward and offer some kind of help. The first is gone, the second has proven to be another deceitful illusion.
The short version is that if I let my mind wander on topics like these, I will become depressed and I will end up killing myself. For the simple fact that it is more than I can bear. Only by ignoring it, my emotions and my body and all troubles associated with it can I prevent doing anything like that. This also means that anything which may lead me to start thinking about those dangerous topics is off-limits.
At least I'm feeling very numb about many topics which used to upset me. When Pieter announced earlier that he was going to his girlfriend again Friday through Saturday night, I first felt the all too familiar shock, like a knife being twisted around inside my chest, after that I realized that I really don't give a damn. Because it doesn't matter. Pieter doesn't matter. His gf doesn't matter. Anything they say or do doesn't matter. Life doesn't care about them. Life doesn't care about me. Life doesn't care about anyone. it just tramples over everything and the only way to escape it is to die. Or become immortal and rid oneself of this nuisance of being human.
In the end I'm more tired, mentally, than I have ever been before. I really should have been dead already, as I truly can't endure any more of this, yet it's this whole 'killing oneself' thing standing between me and escape.
Depressing, yes. But also the culmination of over twenty years of frustrations, pain, traumas and crushed expectations. Say the word 'happy', or show me something innocent and cute like a Hello Kitty plushie and all I can do is cry in helplessness.
I hate life so much...