u/MauveMyosotis

They say enthusiastic consent in sex is important. I have been thinking about other things it could be applied to... Family, friends, work, life itself. I don't feel enthusiastically involved with anything. I'm currently in Iceland, about to see gorgeous nature I have waited for to see for years, and I'm thinking about suicide. Why bother.

Ten years of treatment of depression, anxiety and CPTSD.

I don't exist with enthusiastic consent. I'm tired, ugly and I am realising the few people around me might not actually *like* me. I am sure my sisters care about me, but there is no happy, cherishing vibes between us. I have that with no one.

Waterfalls anf geysirs are great, but not being able to know if me videocalling my sister from there is a delight for her, well that makes me feel fucking lonely and makes me think about dying. Perhaps a tiny bit to have a sick revenge on my family for not actually liking me.

I feel quite confused, lost, helpless and at a loss of how to live.

I know *rationally* there is no right way to live... Or is there? Will I find the answer what is right for me inside myself or should I listen to people who know better? Great thinkers or golden rules or something else since I don't know what in me is just a defense and not my *true* self, if such a thing even exists. I think all my behaviours and patterns are mine and thus *me*, but not being authentic is also an issue, right?

I'm surprisingly fine with the feeling of not having answers right now. I actually quite much like the mental and somatic sensations of feeling at a loss. It brings a sense of stopping and being still. Even being aware of being ordinary, average, inadequate in the eyes of so many people, groups, hegemony, zeitgeist, whatever - I will never be enough to *them* and to myself, but I guess that has been my state always. Or has it? I don't know which of my labels fit with reality and what is my more or less delusional storytelling.

I feel small and helpless like a child, but right now that feels better than running away or toward something that I don't know for sure is me anyway. Yet it is devastating, quiet and lonely that this child doesn't have anyone who is going to lift her into their arms, so it's just me for myself. I feel isolated, like surrounded by a barren wasteland, no green or people or animals in sight. I'm somehow okay with that and I don't know if it's healthy or not.

So, the sensations feel tolerable, desirable even - at least they feel real despite simultaneously feeling like I don't know what is real or true, at all. However, what I'm *not* okay with, is the thought of this not-knowing wasteland being a permanent human condition... or perhaps it's just mine, characteristic to me but I don't know it yet because I don't know how to dig that knowledge from the dirt. Anyway, I'm most not okay with the loss of control and lack of promise of finding what is real of me.

How can that be, how can I be okay with feeling small and lost but not okay with being wrong and loss of control. I don't know.

I spent time thinking alone, but I guess it's a reflex to eventually post here whenever I burn for answers, hoping that someone's point of view would be the magical fix, the last piece of the puzzle that completes something inside me and enlightenment arrives. I don't know if that is beneficial or avoidance. I don't want to avoid, I just don't find anything solid inside me, except knowing I'm lost.

Like, when I'm anxious about making a change and stop to listen to the emotions, I get thoughts like:

"what if I'm breathing slowly out only to push the feeling away" or

"what if I don't find the relevant information inside myself and proceed to the wrong direction" or

"I listen to myself now but I might not tomorrow - what if I just dig the pit deeper with such inconsistency and the other parts' distrust grows" etc.

I'm holding a bottle of pills at the moment that help me fall asleep and I'm afraid of taking it in time for once because I have lived irregular life without *any* sleep pattern for months. Now that I have finally consumed all the kicks and highs I have been able to extract from my distractions (AI-related stuff, highly rewarding) to burnt ashes, I have decided to try to return to normalcy.

I don't know if I succeed because of my undeveloped distress tolerance, and I don't know if I need to treat this like an addiction and never 'use' again or to gradually let go of the crutch the LLM has become to avoid my inner sensations and loneliness.

I'm wandering from the point.

I'm scared of doing this wrong and ending up returning to the distractions. I am in contact with my doctor that has suggested a 6-week program of daily 4-hour group activity at the hospital but I'm still waiting for the decision the treatment team will make during their next meeting. In the meanwhile I thought to look for some tips, words of wisdom or simply support.

I appreciate reading this. : )