It’s weird to be 15 different people in a week
I (18M) genuinely have coping mechanisms so complex that I create an alternate reality full of existencial “fetishes” and obsessions that I think I will miraculously get rid of someday, but in reality it does feel like I am repeating every day the same day (?). Boredom does not bother me, but lack of direction and perceiving myself as worthless does and I put myself in an endless cycle of needless suffering only to “prove” myself “there is no way out”, my mood swings are so violent that I might believe for 2 days that I won’t ever feel that feeling that “everyone else but me must have and somehow lacks in me because of my sick and ill spirit” but then a tad bit of validation from the opposite sex could make me feel like I’m finally “here and now” again, delusionally and manically. I’ve been on drug recovery for more than a year and I’m having a lot of questions torwards life and if there should be a “goal” or if I should “take care of myself in order to find someone that only then will like me”, but when I realize how stupid I am and I kinda feel like I am just a bad person who chooses to behave that way and ”always did”. Why do I put myself in situations that I have to face so much confusion to a point where I can’t just accept that I’m flawed? Why does feeling like “fuck it I’m and insane/evil person” feel so much better than saying “I’m a borderline and I do need help.”? I feel like there is a fog polluting my vision and senses so much that only the warmth of another person in suffering can make me acknowledge that there might not be a need for meaning, but a need for presence and community instead of a state of a never-ending daydreaming and isolation behaviour.