I have gotten to the point where I no longer care about school, if I fail or not. I don't know if it is because I am so simply so fed up with the feeling that I know what I want to do with my life but my current academic trajectory is nowhere near my goal, that my current degree path is leading me slowly towards a life of "quiet desperation", monotony, and the functional alcoholism of my father. That should I fail, I will be subjected to the whim of fate, hoping that some driven enough and foolish enough lifts me from my willful trek towards hopelessness, the alternate fate of my mother. It may simply be a result of my lazy nature coupled with my disconsolate disposition. In reality I may simply be suffering from depression.
At any rate this is how the story goes. About a month ago I started noticing it was harder to focus. I have AD/HD and focus is hard to come by as it is but the inability was novel. No matter how hard I tried, nothing I attempted could manage to bring my focus in long enough to be productive. Even when I could strong arm my mind into focusing my brain seemed incapable of comprehending the most simple tasks. I couldn't read. There has been several dozen situations in the last month where I would sit down for a minimum of an hour and get nothing done, whether it was reading, writing, researching. WHATEVER. The closest thing I'd gotten to success was with "reading". I would stare at some form of written material and bounce my eyes from one word to the next but it was as though I was reading some foreign language.
School is almost over(in 2 weeks) I dont think I can call for an incomplete and I am spending all of my energy just trying to just stay alive, not run away, not relapse into drugs. I can't do amy work anymore but I feel like I can't tell anyone because they would just dismiss it as being lazy. And I am afraid they would be right.
I just don't know what to do anymore and as I move forward I often find my myself contemplating how such an inability will play itself out moving forawrd. It usually starts off in my mind as failing a class, then failing multiple classes, then dropping out of school as a result of lack of motivation, and then getting a deadend/minimum wage job at mcdonalds, followed some time down the line by an eclipsing depression based in the fact that my life has become the punch line of some tragic joke, and eventually commiting suicide. This is all to say that by that point I have not already relapsed into major drug abuse and am either in jail, fatally overdosed, or trapped in some form of permanent psychosis as a result of drug abuse or the degenerative nature of schizophrenia.
I do not want to commit suicide but life is beginning to seem progressively more and more pointless and I fear my already lacking willpower will not be enough to prevent me from acting out of impulse. Although I hate the idea of me living no more would the world stop turning? Even if the lives of several hundered (a liberal estimate) were affected by my self destruction would the world not someday and someday soon move on and forget about me as it does with most everyone else. Even if it were just my family to feel the pain would whatever family I have whereever down the line not feel the pain? One way or another we are all headed there eventually, and our loved ones should we be so fortunate will all feel it eventually. What is the point of enduring so much pain and senseless confusion and agony for only a relatively minor amount of joy/satisfaction of the course of such time?
In my mind if one cannot positively and significantly effect a number of lives that sums up to a number greater than they would hurt if they were dead is a waste of resources. I hate the fact that I look at life so mathematically, black/white, emotionally irrelevant, but it is how I truly view the world and it terrifies me. But what terrifies me even more is the fact that I am growing to accept this way of thinking as fact, no longer as simply the whimperings of my poor depressed soul.
At any rate this is how the story goes. About a month ago I started noticing it was harder to focus. I have AD/HD and focus is hard to come by as it is but the inability was novel. No matter how hard I tried, nothing I attempted could manage to bring my focus in long enough to be productive. Even when I could strong arm my mind into focusing my brain seemed incapable of comprehending the most simple tasks. I couldn't read. There has been several dozen situations in the last month where I would sit down for a minimum of an hour and get nothing done, whether it was reading, writing, researching. WHATEVER. The closest thing I'd gotten to success was with "reading". I would stare at some form of written material and bounce my eyes from one word to the next but it was as though I was reading some foreign language.
School is almost over(in 2 weeks) I dont think I can call for an incomplete and I am spending all of my energy just trying to just stay alive, not run away, not relapse into drugs. I can't do amy work anymore but I feel like I can't tell anyone because they would just dismiss it as being lazy. And I am afraid they would be right.
I just don't know what to do anymore and as I move forward I often find my myself contemplating how such an inability will play itself out moving forawrd. It usually starts off in my mind as failing a class, then failing multiple classes, then dropping out of school as a result of lack of motivation, and then getting a deadend/minimum wage job at mcdonalds, followed some time down the line by an eclipsing depression based in the fact that my life has become the punch line of some tragic joke, and eventually commiting suicide. This is all to say that by that point I have not already relapsed into major drug abuse and am either in jail, fatally overdosed, or trapped in some form of permanent psychosis as a result of drug abuse or the degenerative nature of schizophrenia.
I do not want to commit suicide but life is beginning to seem progressively more and more pointless and I fear my already lacking willpower will not be enough to prevent me from acting out of impulse. Although I hate the idea of me living no more would the world stop turning? Even if the lives of several hundered (a liberal estimate) were affected by my self destruction would the world not someday and someday soon move on and forget about me as it does with most everyone else. Even if it were just my family to feel the pain would whatever family I have whereever down the line not feel the pain? One way or another we are all headed there eventually, and our loved ones should we be so fortunate will all feel it eventually. What is the point of enduring so much pain and senseless confusion and agony for only a relatively minor amount of joy/satisfaction of the course of such time?
In my mind if one cannot positively and significantly effect a number of lives that sums up to a number greater than they would hurt if they were dead is a waste of resources. I hate the fact that I look at life so mathematically, black/white, emotionally irrelevant, but it is how I truly view the world and it terrifies me. But what terrifies me even more is the fact that I am growing to accept this way of thinking as fact, no longer as simply the whimperings of my poor depressed soul.
s*