u/Kekus32

I am not a psychopath, i know i can feel happiness, sadness, empathy, but I just dont.

It happened maybe a couple of years ago, my late teenage years. I think I entered a very deep episode of depression, there was no reason for it, it just happened. I dont think I felt sad for most of the time, actually, It was this crawling feeling of lost purpose, realising there was something wrong with me.

A year ago i was diagnosed with autism, later with depression, which with my first hypomanic episode turned into bipolar2. But I just didnt believe it, sure i didnt sleep, i was more active, but i wasnt happy, i wasnt happy for a long long time, it also made me notice that i wasnt sad either, I even cherished and clawed for those moments when I did feel sad and horrible. This horrible emptiness, lack of suffering sufficient enough for my disfunction, it kills me. I am losing friends, half cut me off, the other half are getting ready to do so, they have nothing to lose, I am scared to admit that i dont care.

They have it so much worse but keep on trucking, developing. Panic attacks, anxiety, halucinations and raging emotions, I started to long for those horrible things, to just feel sick enough, for me to finally understand what the fuck is wrong with me, finally burn and have it decided.

But it never comes, because I am not suffering, I am not sad and I am not scared, just inhuman, fundamentaly broken, what a boring form of madness.

No matter what I do, no matter what notes I play together it sound awful, clashing muddy, if I play more than one single note on any octave between one and three itdrives me insane WHY DOES IT HAVE TO SOUND SO GOD AWFUL? Maybe it's just digital piano things but it discouraged me from using left hand at all. Triads? Shells? God forbid seven chords help me lord.

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I am a male in his early twenties, recently diagnosed with bipolar2, I ve got a doctor and I am medicated, lamictal seems to have raised a lot of dissociation and brain fog and now I am forced to confront my emotions head on which can be amazing, but more often than not is quite painful.

I've been doing art for as long as I can remember, mostly digital painting, recently (attempting) piano and music in general. The most horrible days, weeks or even months coincided with periods of time where I gave up any artistic expression. Giving up follows right after a single bad night painting or otherwise, ending in hysterics. It was always like that, not sure if anything will ever get better, it's a cycle.

Tortured artist is a myth, I didnt get a neatly packaged gift of artistic genius along with this illness for which only god is to blame.

Not sure if it's generally a good idea to post something like that on internet of all places or if it's a selfish pursuit of pity but it feels just a tiny bit good to throw something like this out there. Take care.

I am not suffering. For the longest time this was a feeling that I never quite managed to place in my body, or if it's even real to begin with. And it happens every time my mood switches, it turns out my past experience was made up, unreal, another way to trick myself into finding my authentic 'me", to the point that I am constantly trying to cling upon the part of myself that I see the most human, the disease, whatever it may be. I feel the need to be overwhelmed, emotionally unstable to simply feel like my experience is real, that I am a feeling being made of flesh and bone, neurons and electrons, and it never worked, I never felt as sick as I need to be. I've hurt myself many times, maybe as a way to ground myself or to trick myself into believing my sickness is real, I am desperate, I feel so inhuman and detached from my emotions, I need to hit the ground running to just orient myself around the concept of me, masks upon masks upon constructed authenticity, getting bored of my type of madness, hoping to finally find something that will finally tip me over. I am clinging to people. I want to discover myself through their view of me, I feel like they would understand more than I can, I trust their subjective before mine. This feels odd, I KNOW something is wrong but I fail to care, life past the next hour is meaningless and intangible. Please somebody help me, I am stuck within myself so deep and I can't claw out of my chrysalis, that may not even be real. This feels horrible and at the same time feels like nothing and tastes bland, even when I cry I am not sure if I force myself or not. And even at times like this, I am somewhat trying to make this entertaining to read. Sorry

Edit: I don't need a fucking god, my whole existence is lacking in spirituality, Jesus had no hand in this. I am looking for attention, and I would gladly care