Friday, 24 July 2015

When your mind tries to convince you life isn't worth living

How I get through a day is fully dependent on this little energy bar regulating my sense of well-being. Depending on how well I slept, it can be either pretty much full, or pretty drained. Subsequently every stressful and negative thing during the day knocks off a bit from this bar. When the energy level becomes low, I have trouble staying positive and engaging with others. When it hits zero, life isn't worth suffering through any more. Unfortunately for me, 'stressful' means most noises depending on the situation, especially when I try to concentrate or relax.

Today started off pretty okay. I even got an appointment with my family doctor for next week as after a month things at my gynaecologist's office finally seem to have trickled through. That's when the negative stuff happened, though. Mostly it involved getting hit by some finances-related letters, which I know are unfair/incorrect, but which I'll have to slowly work my way through over the coming weeks most likely until matters are resolved there.

Suffice it to say that my starting energy levels have been rather low the past weeks. I had to call in sick on Monday because I was barely able to get out of bed. Tuesday was okay and on Wednesday I even managed a work-related trip to Munich which went very well and had me feeling quite positive. On Thursday I felt extremely dizzy as I got up, but persisted and things went okay afterwards. Today I just mostly feel exhausted.

Throughout it all aside from a few moments I could feel part of my mind being occupied with just pain. The pain of living, of existing, and lamenting how unfair everything is in life. I so loathe this part of my mind. The more negative things happened and the lower my energy levels got, the more persistent it got. Right now I know it's very strong because the threshold for self-mutilation is very low. Basically it takes very little for me to use fists and such on myself. I can only resist the action, but I do not actually control the motivation behind it. Most of that motivation is simply the urge to destroy this body and with it end my existence.

I think I wish most of all that I didn't live in this apartment where I simply cannot get the rest I need to feel safe and recharge my energy, and that this whole medical/intersex business finally bothered to resolve itself. I'm sick of both items and through it, sadly, somewhat sick of being alive as well. Maybe there are ways for me to not feel so utterly powerless to resolve such points in my life.

As I have mentioned before: merely surviving doesn't make a life worth living. It's just stressful, day to day survival with only major accomplishing being the fact that one hasn't died or become too maimed yet. It also makes me resort to venting on my blog like this far too much and making others feel worse in the process.

I'm sorry.


No comments: