I’ve been getting worse every day of my life. I can go through the detailed laundry list of excuses and try to convince you (for my sake) how i logically came to this point in time with the towel thrown in, but the truth is I’m not special. I’ve somehow come to terms with not being special. Deep down that probably makes me mad. We’ve all been harshly dropped into this existential crisis, under this millennial context of mutated sewage we must come to terms with. Where I personally stray is this unwillingness deep down to lie about our reality: a lack of emotional control/intelligence to reframe/reinterpret this narrative before me. Going off the deep end in every stage of my life, it appears I cannot justify my belief in the world and develop the confidence to pull myself beyond this arrested development to move forward. All I have is my authenticity to identify with. Most people will repeat the right things to others by saying they want to do better and be better, but i for some reason want to actually do worse. I can attribute this moving backwards mentality to the usual first world problems and the toxic playing field of having to navigate through these technological/hedonistic side effects, but honestly I’ve never stopped suffering. So now I take this suffering and twist it into a therapy as I practice ego suppression. It hurts me that this is the only way I’ve been able to cope with life: by forcing myself to be nothing, to constantly put death to all this fantasy. This is how I pushed through the constant suffering of the last decade. I latch onto this delusion out of necessity and try to make sense of why I’m hurting. I have to activate my personal authenticity to get myself through this shit. Any time i find myself becoming a person I have to remind myself that those are merely DREAMS of being a person. I have to be nobody and force myself to center and accept that being nobody — by breaking down my ego — is the only true way to get in touch with my authenticity. Because finding that very little solace in accepting this trainwreck and encouraging it to be content with going sideways is key. This is how I’ve dealt with this existential depression. I’ve come a long way, and I’m going to be upfront about all the bridges I’ve burned and how I’ve been an absolute POS to people who never deserved it. I feel like I’ve evolved in a sideways manner, and ever since I hit 30 I’ve been aware enough to control the damage around me by learning that every thing you do follows the basic principle of cause and effect. The last few years I’ve been able to get where I’m at without the collateral. I try to keep it contained so there’s no karmic blowback. Ive managed to minimize the negative “effect” by keeping the cause strictly self inflicted. Long story short I minimized the trouble I’ve always seemed to get myself involved in; however, there’s still a Russian Roulette side to how I approach the world. Learning to find peace in being nobody and learning I’ve been backed into the proverbial corner: is from a place of deep despair inadvertently crafting this defense mechanism to do what I can to suffer less; by actually caring that nobody else is in this self inflicted line of fire if only to lessen the consequences that the basic laws of cause and effect would produce. Right now this is what I’ve evolved into: pretty much my life has turned into a 24/7 game of dodge ball. Yeah I’d get joy dominating others and “winning” in life, but there will always come that point where I’m not capable of managing a fair balance. Because as a conductor of the train, the wreck is inevitable. I’m better off just existing in this game of dodgeball, carefully avoiding the “cause and effect” trip wire. Because I can’t necessarily control other people and the inevitable domino “effect”, but I certainly can influence the direction and how the boomerang plays into these “causes”.  So I been asking myself do I really want to die? Or do I just feel an overwhelming lack of self-control of my destiny. I’ll tell you something right now- we all have this inner psychopath that wants to be pet like a doggy. What’s the point in existing in this sheer mental torture and its bleak future of a repeated Groundhog Day of suffering in cue with the schedule of 24/7 dodgeball.

Right now I’m beyond glorifying or using my suffering to benefit myself in anyway. But at the same time what’s the purpose in drifting through life if it’s a constant dodgeball from one session of suffering to the next. I also realize here that the foundation from which my thinking originated came from cracked beginnings. I never really activated that humble side of me. All I know right now is that I still more than ever want to die. I really do. And I actually was mentally worse off before this pandemic. Because the real pandemic is the existential one we try to rationalize our suffering with. Overall im more grateful, but after a thorough risk assessment of every aspect of my life or lack thereof, it’s just not worth pulling through by “hanging in there because it’ll get better.” That right there is a terrible illusion that makes somebody who wholeheartedly wants out just feel stupid when you tell them that. I want to die and I’m not going to sugarcoat anything anymore. All I really have to improve on which makes me feel “good” is aligning better with my authenticity. This life is a cruel joke but I take responsibility because I am aware of all the bad choices or “wrong turns” I’ve made. However, wanting to die and actually effecting that death are 2 different animals. I get it— someone somewhere out there whether you see them or not will be effected by your death, and that’s selfish to put that want in motion if you care about who your death will really impact. Also, would I really still want to die if I got everything I wanted and had more control of my destiny and were efficiently able to dodge the constant shrapnel of suffering? I’m pretty sure I would opt in on dying. Why? Feeling like this is a dysfunctional way of coping with suffering; however, it’s the only way I know how to survive and find solace in the twisted joke of this so called “life.” We live and then we die: it’s just a cruel pointless design we’ve been forced to pursue and engage in, piloting a consciousness we never asked to steer. I think everyone is dealt their cards differently, of course. And I could totally identify the logic in why a pilot would want to fly drunk. What all this comes down to is do the reasons why you should continue to live outweigh the logic behind why you want to die? and is attempting to live even worth the burden of the suffering you have to shoulder through life? It’s subjective. But quite frankly I cannot get behind anyone that lie to themselves “just pull through this one day it’ll better.” But what if you’ve come to the conclusion that — in terms of it being worth to continue to live coupled with a genuine assessment of how your death would impact others — you are better off dead? It comes down to stubborn people dismissing and flat out not giving another individual due weight/value in their opinion. As of today there are some glimmers of hope that this thing I call life would actually be worth “pulling through.” But I truly believe I fell way too deep that the suffering I would have to endure to pull through in the end doesn’t coexist with the subjective logic in my cockpit. There’s no coming back; and in no way am I saying my suffering is unique and should be more empathized with, all I’m saying is I’ve thrown in the towel long ago. I’m pretty much ready to die if the circumstances and timing of those impacted align with the stars. And I haven’t went into any real detail here with what’s really in my laundry bag. But that’s because I’m just tired thus accepting of my new reality without struggle.

In terms of sobriety, at this point I would rather kill my self than make a millionth attempt just to relapse 6 months down the line. I rather die right now than withdraw from the heavy dose of fentanyl I’ve established tissue-damaging tolerance for. There’s a middle ground to everything: of course swallow razor blades all day long let alone not attempt to lower my dose. The point I’m making is the details and the tragedies to how I’ve gotten this deep and far gone in terms of digging myself out of this death hole are just excuses to convince fearful people against euthanasia. What I just realized is that I can’t control other people and I really shouldn’t have to prove why I feel what I feel. It’s scary and it’s not like I woke up one day selfish “I totally won at tennis at the country club today” then later same day “all my veins collapsed thus bound to inject in my feet and when I miss that both my feet will look like a pair of balloons.” There are many rationalizations to how I got from point A 15 years ago to this hopelessness now (point B) for any real significant change to occur in my life; however I’ve come to this point following a linear timeline that made sense to me. Tho for people not as in tune with their true authenticity I can see how they would get lost if I gave them a map rationalizing how this sickness and my down fall follows a linear timeline where every conclusion drawn or justification for the mapping of the pros/cons favor the decision to die. This entire explanation — to why I think the way I do and not ashamed to write it out to helping others think critically and being called a selfish idiot for thinking the way I do — shows why I’m at this point of despair. Good things can only come from drawing your thoughts from a place of authenticity. Thank you. This was not worth writing out but I’m glad I did so and I’m glad I avoided accidentally deleting this 3 times while typing it. Thank you for taking the time to read. This is not something I’m at all proud for sharing and my thinking is probably still flawed but this is where I’m at in the journey of death. Sorry if the inflated view count pisses people off but I was pissed off the entire hour editing as I sat here rationalizing my point B on this map of death blueprinted.