Quien cree que gane? Yo creo que Francia o Marruecos. Los argentinos los noto con menos hambre de victoria que en el mundial pasado. Y los españoles menos. Y a los otros no les tengo confianza
I’ve been dealing with extreme anxiety for weeks; I’ve lost the desire to do everything I used to enjoy—eating, working out, playing video games, listening to music or podcasts, and so on, no longer bring me any pleasure. Today, despite my problems, my overwhelming and stressful fear of death—along with the accompanying existential crisis and constant feelings of derealization—I managed to clean the house and wash the dishes. It’s something I hadn’t done in a week. It was a huge struggle, but I got it done; now I just need to get back to eating properly.
I think about death daily, it scares me, and I don't know if it's death itself or reaching that final day without being happy or achieving my dream. I don't know if my true fear lies in those final moments, in which I will feel my life fading away bit by bit. Every second that passes, every minute, every hour, increases my anxiety because I don't know if I am enjoying it well or badly, or if I am simply distracting myself from the harsh truth: that I am going to die. The only thing that brings me relief is thinking that it will happen in 90 or 100 years—or less, 80 maybe. I have hope that science will advance, but sooner or later death catches up to us all, and that scares me. Every morning that passes, every afternoon that passes, every night that I go to sleep, I go to sleep with fear. I don't know how others do it, how they live without paying attention to the harsh truth, how they manage not to think every minute, second, or hour about the passage of time and the end of life. Thinking that I am 23 relieves me, but at the same time, I wonder if I will feel this way or worse at 31.
I don't know if this fear of death/existential crisis is due to my age, the stress collapse I suffered, the medications, the anxiety, or a combination of everything. This is one of the darkest and most depressive pits I have been in since I was 9 or 10 years old. Death has always been close to me, but I think just like to anyone else. Although my suicidal days and my anxiety started at 9/10 years of age.
It relaxes me to think that there is something beyond death, like a paradise. Or staying on this earth but as ghosts, or reincarnating into something else. Or perhaps another life beyond, like a Valhalla. But on one hand, my logical side says I am being ridiculous and that obviously there is nothing else, because science does not back those theories, and the light at the end of the tunnel is confirmed to be a process of the brain dying. I wish I had been born in a religious country; they at least cling to the idea that their gods await them on the other side, but my logical side won't allow me to go that route, and even if I tried, that logical side will haunt me forever.
Seeing life as an adventure or an experience instead of a race against the clock relaxes me, until I remember again that the last stop of that adventure is death.
I really like the theory of thermodynamics, the first law, which states that energy cannot be destroyed or created, only transformed. Perhaps thermodynamics is great proof of the existence of reincarnation.
Also, it calms me to think that there is a 'something' or someone who created everything, because the universe is too perfect in many ways, although my logical side says that is just the evolution of the cosmos and of life.
I don't know, how to face this fear, and I am afraid it will follow me until my death.
Es un post rarísimo, si. Pero quiero saber, alguno de ustedes conoce a alguien que enseñe lucha?. Porque buscando en internet hay muy pocas alternativas y me parece raro que en un país con tanto extranjero, no haya más profesores de lucha
This anxiety thing is so hard. You feel like you're getting better, like everything's going well, and then suddenly, bam, a stress-induced collapse. And you go back to square one, almost starting from scratch. You take one step forward and three steps back. It's like a whirlpool, and the more you try to escape, the stronger the whirlpool spins, trying to pull you under and drown you again. I'm tired. But I have hope that I'll get better, hope that everything will be like it was before, and hope that neuroplasticity will work. But hope lives in the future, and the future is uncertain. Who knows if that change, that improvement I'm hoping for, that improvement that lives within hope, will ever be real? Maybe it's just an empty hope, something that will only drift further and further away. And I'll stay in the same place, forever. But one reality that no one can deny is that the future is inevitable. It will arrive sooner or later, whether we like it or not; that's what makes it inevitable. And if that future is inevitable, if it comes no matter what I do, no matter what happens, I will fight to be able to face it with the best version of myself. It will come, whether I stay where I am or try to move forward. It will come, regardless of whether I'm in the middle of the whirlpool or swimming with all my might to get out of it, or, why not, outside of it altogether. I know I can be better, I just don't know how. And that's something I'm trying to figure out. (translated with a translator)
Estoy en la busqueda de laburo, y pensé en tirar cvs en los call Center. Que tan difícil es entrar en uno? Que piden? Es difícil trabajar en esos lugares?