Halken
Posts
- (no title) Post 1092
- Published 2021/12/25 at 21:22
- I want to live long enough to give everyone closure. I just don't know if I'll get that time. I don't have control.
- Published 2021/12/25 at 21:22
- Less than 1000 hours Post 1056
- Published 2021/12/06 at 08:29
- The closer the time comes, the more I am at peace with myself. Despite the fact that I'm still tormented by mental hell, the fact that I know it will be coming to a close precisely enough to keep me calm; in the anticipation sense, anyway. It hasn't even been 24 hours since my last public deterioration caused by nothing but thoughts. My psychiatrist suspects that the muscle flinches I have are psychogenic non-epileptic events. These are non-epileptic seizures which replicate the physical and visual features of a seizure, but with no abnormal brain activity according. I don't disagree, as symptoms align; being triggered with mental states is also a hallmark factor for PNEEs. In the beginning of the year, I have had an EEG done. This test failed to show any irregularities, further supporting this. When handling items, my hands jerk, which catches people by surprise (and me as well, since I have no idea when a thought is going to jump into my head, ergo, when my limbs will jerk). In the past 24 hours, during a single work shift, I broke down twice while thinking about certain people. For the record, since that post was made, there have been two other persons of interest who are not described in that post. These people are who I'm referencing in this scenario. When I recovered and went back to my job, I continued to flinch, and it was taking multiple customers by surprise. With what already happened in the context, it certainly did not contribute to my mental state that I was unable to anticipate and attempt to cull my own muscles from jerking while handling their products, making me feel powerless and reckless on top of everything else.
- Published 2021/12/06 at 08:29
Here, I mentioned how it's impossible to reasonably appear in public. At the current moment, everything I've feared is now playing out. In addition to the PNEEs, I tend to hit or choke myself, which is pathetic to attempt to explain when it happens in public, as I don't even fully know if it is a conscious movement on my end. It doesn't feel like it, and self-abusive motions would be odd to occur involuntarily. And if a person notices the action, it makes me only want to disappear. I don't want to be expected to have to provide a self-summary of every catalyst behind my actions whenever one of these attacks occur. As such, I've recently posted to people I know in person that I now lack the mental capacity to mirror conversational atmospheres / "vibes", and probably going to not appear as approachable as I sense this deterioration. Everything is playing out exactly how I knew it would, even after I've sought external help. My experience of living in the past few years can only be accurately described as stifling and suffocative. I have made many efforts to improve my scenario. These efforts do not remove or placate the issue. These attempts to cull them is only like putting a fire-smothering blanket on a forest fire. As years go by, I recognise that a number of these issues can only be pacified and not conquered. There's people who think that their clichéd life lessons justify spending a lifetime in hell. No, I am not interested in proving my "strength" to please you or "being a wiser person" after this. I'm doing this as a form of self-care. In or around the month of July, I started a hourly countdown to the day I intend to take my life. I have already the day, in my head. It is less than a thousand hours from the time this post is being written. There are two factors that are able to change this day. One is if I'm able to physically move from myself to another state. I feel as if that can soothe the mental pain dramatically, despite knowing that I'll carry a large amount of it regardless. The other is remaining private, even for here. In 2019, I gave myself the entirety of 2020 to determine whether staying around is worth it. It wasn't, and I regretted not going through with it back then. At the end of 2020, the same self-reflection occurred. Every time I used my device, I would see this countdown, and ask myself if anything improved and if my situation is any better. You can probably guess the answer. I wasn't intending to survive into this current year. Specific opportunities arose which gave me the chance to enhance the lives of myself and the people around me, and for the most part, these have been fulfilled. Those opportunities delayed this form of self-injury. I am satisfied that I have been able to provide to people who need it. Material things and fulfilling personal projects and goals have also pacified these desires to put a bullet through my skull. But they didn't remove it. Most of the positive memories I have are also corrupted by negative events with them. And the noted events aren't exaggerated, and I've made sure of that. They're equally as intense as the positive association, and often for good reason. I won't be able to go into detail for any of these, as I can't so much as think about them without going down into a mental hell and facing panic attacks. I'm looking forward to this day. And I can only hope other people will be happy for me. I don't want my body incinerated. I am not an organ donor. I'd just like my body preserved, intact, for the longest duration possible. Despite terrible memories breaking me at times, the only thing I'll regret is the fact that many of the better memories will be lost to time and irrecoverable. When a person dies, you're irreversibly losing a lifetime of information. Like crushing a hard disk drive, or burning a journal. This is why I tried to do what I could with the wiki site meant to document everything I know. But this soon proved to be an excessively large task that would be impossible to complete within a year. Inline within those efforts, I'm okay with losing my body for the rest of time, but I don't want to lose myself. I don't want to be gone with no chance of returning to experience the future that I've been anticipating ever since I was a toddler. I value, somewhat, my abilities and knowledge. If I could enter a coma for the next 2-5 years, even if my body decayed into a weak mass of bones and organs, I would take it immediately. Please trust me, I've already done so and had to relearn how to walk. Those experiences in and shortly after the hospital, after losing my mind in almost every medical sense aside from brain death, in and of itself houses nearly half of the memories that I can't escape. But I'd at least get a break. It's unfortunate, but over continuing to live as I have been, this is my only option. I severely apologise to the people I've helped mentally, and those who broke out of their shell with me, the people who consider and have mentioned me as their "one good friend". I want to mention my family as well, but those thought processes are inaccessible in the same manner of the ones about "specific people" up above, so I similarly enter mental hell as soon as I dive any deeper.
I just really, truly need to die, and there is no escaping that fact. Even coming face to face with death in 2018 wasn't enough; it needs to be done.
- Man, time flies Post 1029
- Published 2021/10/26 at 12:48
- Been over a year since I started posting on this site. There are many posts on this very site that are on a private page. There are a chain of events any public user can go through to view these posts. These posts semi-privately documented the progression of my issues within the past few years. And I'm still not even an ounce better. I'm still dealing with medication, I've done the lifestyle changes I could, which weren't a small feat. I hate every medical call after call for my physical cardiac and physiological issues and the mental hell on top of it doesn't make it better. If I have to force myself to the point where living is going to have to be unenjoyable in the first place... then what's the point. What is the actual benefit. Because hey. I didn't go through with it last year, no matter how much I wanted to. The thought of being disposed of still permeates my mind before I even open my eyes in the morning, but I'm still here. I've progressed to the point where I can recognise and categorise the reasons I cannot interact with society on any sustained level, but I'm still here. It's more or less destroyed my appearance in public. Which in turn... makes me hate appearing in public, as it is now an embarrassment, since I feel as if I've lost control of myself and am mentally detached from the outside. I have normalised self-harmful jokes and gestures as part of my every day life and have uncontrollable panic attacks. Coworkers distance themselves as a result, a few disgustedly telling me to get help in response. And despite the ""help"" (I've been making phone calls for new counseling as recently as yesterday), nothing has changed. And there are no happy endings no matter which path I take, through the most objective judgement possible. If I avoid hurting myself, it will come at the expense of others. It's like an unescapable black hole. Fighting to change the world so that people actually find life worth living is cool and all, but good luck getting me to stay motivated for a lifetime doing so when there's always another shackle added to the permanent ones that have existed before. It's not fulfilling. This isn't a game where it's self-contained and a minor setback only matters in the screen's universe. Knowing daily that while the past is in the past, it will never stop being my history and will always appear painstakingly when I least expect it to. Who said that I have to change the world? Absolutely no one. The world is not out to get me. It doesn't make it any less difficult to navigate due to societal norms. Maintaining a façade of sanity is no different than mimicking an movie character in public. It's false, seemingly exaggerated, and tiring. I've not been in school in three years due to having suicidal urges after nearly every class, both due to forced social interaction and my own incompetence. Some of my friends have already graduated. But, you know. I'm still here. Like they said, it gets better just because my brain just hopes it does. Who knows, maybe these platitudes actually do help some people. Can't even talk about this without dragging others down in my sorrows. I don't want to die alone, but I can't just ask someone to witness me while I leave. Potential legal liability for them and trauma on top of it. Can't stay silent and act against my ideals just so the persons immediately in front of me don't interpret my actions as a negative. I hate how for every few new friend I've tried to make, they've individually been exposed to and pointed out my "oddities". Even though we've gotten along before, it's "better if I just stay in the screen". Another reason to be cast aside and disposed of.
It directly makes me happy to know that people won't have to be dragged down by my problems anymore, just like it directly makes me happy that I know when other people are enjoying my company. I knew that if I didn't get better, I'd end up hating the world more intensely each passing day. I never wanted that to happen. I'd feel sorry for myself, but you can ask my own mother if I'm capable of feeling that emotion in the first place. Just take care not to speak for me in any circumstance. There has been little to no correlation between my desires and my actions as of the past few years. I don't even want a funeral. I don't want a funeral. I want to be forgotten. And I want to eventually be able to forget about myself, too. おやすみ。 I'm hoping to sleep forever.
- Been over a year since I started posting on this site. There are many posts on this very site that are on a private page. There are a chain of events any public user can go through to view these posts. These posts semi-privately documented the progression of my issues within the past few years. And I'm still not even an ounce better. I'm still dealing with medication, I've done the lifestyle changes I could, which weren't a small feat. I hate every medical call after call for my physical cardiac and physiological issues and the mental hell on top of it doesn't make it better. If I have to force myself to the point where living is going to have to be unenjoyable in the first place... then what's the point. What is the actual benefit. Because hey. I didn't go through with it last year, no matter how much I wanted to. The thought of being disposed of still permeates my mind before I even open my eyes in the morning, but I'm still here. I've progressed to the point where I can recognise and categorise the reasons I cannot interact with society on any sustained level, but I'm still here. It's more or less destroyed my appearance in public. Which in turn... makes me hate appearing in public, as it is now an embarrassment, since I feel as if I've lost control of myself and am mentally detached from the outside. I have normalised self-harmful jokes and gestures as part of my every day life and have uncontrollable panic attacks. Coworkers distance themselves as a result, a few disgustedly telling me to get help in response. And despite the ""help"" (I've been making phone calls for new counseling as recently as yesterday), nothing has changed. And there are no happy endings no matter which path I take, through the most objective judgement possible. If I avoid hurting myself, it will come at the expense of others. It's like an unescapable black hole. Fighting to change the world so that people actually find life worth living is cool and all, but good luck getting me to stay motivated for a lifetime doing so when there's always another shackle added to the permanent ones that have existed before. It's not fulfilling. This isn't a game where it's self-contained and a minor setback only matters in the screen's universe. Knowing daily that while the past is in the past, it will never stop being my history and will always appear painstakingly when I least expect it to. Who said that I have to change the world? Absolutely no one. The world is not out to get me. It doesn't make it any less difficult to navigate due to societal norms. Maintaining a façade of sanity is no different than mimicking an movie character in public. It's false, seemingly exaggerated, and tiring. I've not been in school in three years due to having suicidal urges after nearly every class, both due to forced social interaction and my own incompetence. Some of my friends have already graduated. But, you know. I'm still here. Like they said, it gets better just because my brain just hopes it does. Who knows, maybe these platitudes actually do help some people. Can't even talk about this without dragging others down in my sorrows. I don't want to die alone, but I can't just ask someone to witness me while I leave. Potential legal liability for them and trauma on top of it. Can't stay silent and act against my ideals just so the persons immediately in front of me don't interpret my actions as a negative. I hate how for every few new friend I've tried to make, they've individually been exposed to and pointed out my "oddities". Even though we've gotten along before, it's "better if I just stay in the screen". Another reason to be cast aside and disposed of.
- Published 2021/10/26 at 12:48
- the other side
- help
- So then..
- Languages
- Distractions
- (no title) - Private
- (no title) - Private
- Talk to me, as if I'm not there. - Private
- Tortured by myself
- weights
- broken
- 21:07
- what
- bullet
- Exceptions
- (no title) - Private
- Uncategorised
- Published 2020/11/06 at 03:28
- Uncategorised
- Published 2020/10/27 at 07:13
- Disclaimer - Sticky
- Uncategorised
- Documentation
- Sept
- What if we just stopped fragmenting ourselves
- (no title)
- 海わ遠くない
- Taste, what a bittersweet
- Repetitive Representation
- June 8. 2020