The theory of Depressive Realism states that people who are depressed have been shown to make more realistic inferences with available data, and it is the normal people who are actually putting a positive bias on their interpretations of data. Basically, this suggests that depression gives you a more accurate world view which means life is ultimately pointless and we as a species need to pretend life is better and more meaningful than it is in order to convince ourselves that living is worth the effort, probably as an evolutionary survival mechanism, i.e. people are kidding themselves that their lives are worth it.
I bring this up because I am struggling to see the point lately. I live alone now, actually surprisingly isolated and a little overworked. I stand on the precipice of one of the biggest decisions of my life (trying to buy a home so I can afford to live within reasonable distance of my work) and I keep coming back to "killing yourself would be just so much... easier."
A quote from a not so great film, sums it up for me at the moment: "Its circular, you exist to continue your existence, what's the point?" Quite simply, that is me at the moment, I am living in order to keep living, and I'm not actually getting much of anything out of being alive, and I'm not achieving much either. I'm 30 years old and I have achieved nothing, about 35%-40% of my life is spent and I have achieved nothing, no enjoyment, no goals, and and the sum amount of my life that I have felt a sense of contentment was about 1 week. I am even less than I once was, I keep looking at myself and I see less worth than I do in my memories of me as a teenager, anything special I had back then seems to have dried up. My intelligence, my motivation, my ambition, my curiosity, all gone.
Im not suicidal, not yet anyway, I am recognising a certain murky darkness to some of my thoughts today which suggests my thinking may wander that way eventually, but at the moment, I am, as ever, simply tired. Tired of trying, tired of hoping, tired of putting that positive bias on the world, and constructing ever more desperate fantasies that I am in any way worth preserving. I don't even want any supportive messages to this, because I am tired of them too. I am just tired of the act. I cry for help, people dig deep and answer as best they can and I draw some courage from this and keep going, rinse repeat.
Fuck I want to get drunk, but if I do I'll just end up breaking down and hurting myself and crying about that too and that's all just another act I'm tired of which leaves me feeling more broken than before and leaves me more marks I have to hide until they eventually fade enough that people wont notice in a year or two.
This isn't even a self-pity-party, I'm just like a man who has been walking for way too long. My feet hurt, my legs are sluggish, and my breathing is laboured. I'm not thinking "oh woe is me", no one is making me walk, I'm doing this on my own, but I'm just hoping that at some point in my endless journey, I can find somewhere lie down, stop moving and rest.
I bring this up because I am struggling to see the point lately. I live alone now, actually surprisingly isolated and a little overworked. I stand on the precipice of one of the biggest decisions of my life (trying to buy a home so I can afford to live within reasonable distance of my work) and I keep coming back to "killing yourself would be just so much... easier."
A quote from a not so great film, sums it up for me at the moment: "Its circular, you exist to continue your existence, what's the point?" Quite simply, that is me at the moment, I am living in order to keep living, and I'm not actually getting much of anything out of being alive, and I'm not achieving much either. I'm 30 years old and I have achieved nothing, about 35%-40% of my life is spent and I have achieved nothing, no enjoyment, no goals, and and the sum amount of my life that I have felt a sense of contentment was about 1 week. I am even less than I once was, I keep looking at myself and I see less worth than I do in my memories of me as a teenager, anything special I had back then seems to have dried up. My intelligence, my motivation, my ambition, my curiosity, all gone.
Im not suicidal, not yet anyway, I am recognising a certain murky darkness to some of my thoughts today which suggests my thinking may wander that way eventually, but at the moment, I am, as ever, simply tired. Tired of trying, tired of hoping, tired of putting that positive bias on the world, and constructing ever more desperate fantasies that I am in any way worth preserving. I don't even want any supportive messages to this, because I am tired of them too. I am just tired of the act. I cry for help, people dig deep and answer as best they can and I draw some courage from this and keep going, rinse repeat.
Fuck I want to get drunk, but if I do I'll just end up breaking down and hurting myself and crying about that too and that's all just another act I'm tired of which leaves me feeling more broken than before and leaves me more marks I have to hide until they eventually fade enough that people wont notice in a year or two.
This isn't even a self-pity-party, I'm just like a man who has been walking for way too long. My feet hurt, my legs are sluggish, and my breathing is laboured. I'm not thinking "oh woe is me", no one is making me walk, I'm doing this on my own, but I'm just hoping that at some point in my endless journey, I can find somewhere lie down, stop moving and rest.