Discussion in 'Mental Health Disorders' started by Mortal Moon, Dec 18, 2009.

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  1. Mortal Moon

    Mortal Moon Well-Known Member

    I'm so confused all the time. Everything seems distant and alien, like it's all part of a world that I'm just observing but not living in.

    I remember things while at the same time feeling like I've forgotten them, and I forget things that I know damn well I had remembered the day before.

    I'm filled with a powerful longing for "something", but I don't know what it is, and yet I am certain that it can never be fulfilled. I cling to ideas, to songs, to stories, trying to find some clue; I try to grasp what can't be grasped, and when I fail, I long for it all the more.

    I'm losing my mind. All I have left to hang onto is my own madness. That's why I'm not on meds anymore- such things kill the soul. I'm scared to death of the outside world. I shut myself in this little room and hope against hope that I can at least understand my longing. It's the only thing that matters anymore. I don't want to achieve anything in life, I don't want to grow old, I don't want to be this horrible broken person anymore. This desperate spiritual emptiness, this drive to find some unknown and perhaps unknowable "other" that will make my soul complete, is my single fixation and the only source of meaning in my existence.

    I live because the answer might be out there somewhere, but I'm starting to believe that I may never find it, and that even if I do, I won't like what I find.
  2. bubblin girl

    bubblin girl Well-Known Member

    I feel the same sometimes
  3. Disappear

    Disappear Well-Known Member

    You said that so well. I feel the same and it's scary...longing for the unknown, knowing you may never find it..then what?
  4. Mortal Moon

    Mortal Moon Well-Known Member

    I just wish I could find what it is. What am I so obsessed with? Death? Uniqueness? Sadness? Imagination? The past? The future? I can't pin it down and it's driving me insane. Maybe I'm just addicted to the longing itself. Maybe the act of satisfying that longing would be an insult to this deep emotion that seems so tragically real. It hurts like hell and it makes me want to die, but I just can't let go of it. It's just too beautiful.
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