Slippery Slope
Posted: Thu Jan 20, 2022 12:56 pm
My life is one big petri dish of emotions, revolving around feeling punished/burdened and feeling rewarded/accepted for things that I can't control whether they are admirable or not. If I were to be graded on a scholarly assignment, I would get a C- while not trying hard enough, and I'd get a C+ for devoting my life to that assignment.
I went through a very long and numerous set of ECT treatments. It was my last resort effort to find some state of health that could be livable. Things were looking promising for about 2 years, while there was evidence warranting optimism. I sit here now facing this haunting music as my baseline genetic inheritance is rearing its ugly face again. I do a wonderful job finding and implementing methods to endure and survive, but I think I'm trying to change the stripes of a zebra.
I should be feeling very suicidal right now, but I've learned how to see that urge as frivolous and a waste to consider reasonable. I'm concerned that I've hit a threshold I know very, very well. All the "pep talk" things said to me in my lifetime are on a playlist of thoughts right now. I can almost hear now people saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry this isn't helping. Well, you are doing a very good job anyhow". I feel to be a cancer patient getting chemo treatments, not getting better nor getting worse. Where is that line showing the threshold for purpose in life?
We always require definitions. Without definitions, there is only gibberish. With my condition, definitions are debatable and may soon become gibberish again. I am haunted by the most dependable things in my life, maybes, and shallow optimism.
I'm so very sorry for all the people who feel similarly plagued.
I went through a very long and numerous set of ECT treatments. It was my last resort effort to find some state of health that could be livable. Things were looking promising for about 2 years, while there was evidence warranting optimism. I sit here now facing this haunting music as my baseline genetic inheritance is rearing its ugly face again. I do a wonderful job finding and implementing methods to endure and survive, but I think I'm trying to change the stripes of a zebra.
I should be feeling very suicidal right now, but I've learned how to see that urge as frivolous and a waste to consider reasonable. I'm concerned that I've hit a threshold I know very, very well. All the "pep talk" things said to me in my lifetime are on a playlist of thoughts right now. I can almost hear now people saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry this isn't helping. Well, you are doing a very good job anyhow". I feel to be a cancer patient getting chemo treatments, not getting better nor getting worse. Where is that line showing the threshold for purpose in life?
We always require definitions. Without definitions, there is only gibberish. With my condition, definitions are debatable and may soon become gibberish again. I am haunted by the most dependable things in my life, maybes, and shallow optimism.
I'm so very sorry for all the people who feel similarly plagued.