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The schizoid who wants to get well but knows therapy won t cut it for them. Because relationships feel like a cage, commitment feels like a cage, their brain and body feel like a cage, and so they fantasize of freedom in the form of death. What will a therapist even understand of this. At my core, I am a void.
The schizoid who fought against their schizoid their whole life because they desperately want to want something different from what they actually want - which really is to stop existing, disappear, not be bothered by anything or anyone. The void is relief.
They want to be a person that they are not. But no matter what they try to join, they are always, always on the outside of things.
Outsiderness is their whole life, is what they look for, what they flee from what they fight against, what they keep encountering, what they wear as a badge of honour, what makes them cry. It is their gender and their political identity, their spirituality, their law, their life story.
The schizoid who wonders why they were born if they can't even be on the content side of schizoid, and they have to suffer the pains of hell on the tormented side of it.
They suffer from profound depression because they *want* to be a normal person, able to build connection, attachment, belonging, a family, able to *feel* feel, but they aren't. So what's the point. Don't you all feel lonely...?
The schizoid who as a result doesn't quite fit into schizoid but doesn't quite fully fit among autistic people either, doesn't quite fit anywhere like they are just a single-person spieces of their own. A puzzle to myself really, I can't blame those who don't approach me.
The schizoid who wonders how to fix it, who feels the missing piece, who ticks all the boxes except the indifference, who wants to get rid of themselves so they can live, really live and feel human, real, normal.
They wonder if ending their life will do the trick. If I become a statistic just no one will understand. I really have always felt like I will just finally wake up. Just a gut feeling. I will wake up and I will finally match. Myself will match who I am finally. My life will actually be my life finally. I will be able to love finally, my chest won't be a black hole, my brain will work right, the world will be real.
Until then, I am just borrowing time.
After like a month so it's really cured?
I have this beautiful solid mango table, applied pre stain conditioner and a high quality oil stain but sadly, I wasn't able to achieve the colour I was really going for (dark brown) - I have a "walnut" colour water based stain, does it make any sense at all to try and apply on top?
I wouldn't use any gel stain because this piece has the most beautiful grain
I have this clearly but I need a good assessment and a diagnosis. I don't have tachycardia so tilt table test shouldnt be needed I believe
I need someone specialised in dysautonomia rather than just Pots.
Thank you 🙏
I woke up in a rare good mood, positive and all.
It took 3 conversations with my flatmates to make me feel absolutely horrible about my life.
Awkward conversation #1 not flowing between me and my flatmate
Other flatmate walks in, they immediately get talking, about their weekend, the gigs they went to, "you know that place?" "Yes of course!" (I don't)
I spent the weekend at home I struggle to leave the house at all, noisy and unknown environments kill me. I hate it 😭
Then, conversation #2 with one of them, I expressed being overwhelmed (using other words) by 2 weddings I will have to attend, said it will be exhausting, flatmate could not relate, she loves weddings. I felt awful
Conversation #3 re an event I am organizing, people don't seem really to find it interesting, I feel like everything I do is kinda stupid and irrelevant
Unlike real people who do fun stuff and go to gigs together
I just want to disappear now