Fun Thought at 3:25 AM in the morning

[Ex-User (12972)]

Please refrain from pointing out any Grammatical discrepancies. This is just a rant- not a book I intend on publishing.
And yes.. ~sigh
I realize I might have mixed up the conscious-subconscious part. I'll edit it later.

Fun thought upon waking up from a borderline nightmare at 3:25 AM in the morning:
"I am honestly tired of my existence."

Not really in the angsty, suicidal sense. I felt no ill feelings or personal sadness about it. It was just more of an observation; an honest-to-goodness, heart-to-heart word with myself, even. A part of me speaking to myself as a whole.

In the "dream", I was on a plane (more like a contemporary starship, honestly). I'm not entirely sure why - I failed to write that part down. However, it was filled with various family members including my father, grandmother, biological brother, little stepbrother, little cousin, stepmother, and possibly someone else. Tensions were high and a certain individual was angry at me. He was acting very cold and nasty toward me, but later tried "making it up with me" by trying to kiss me and expecting that I would join him in some corner somewhere and possibly do other things as well. I was revolted and felt trapped, as usual. /Of course/ he would try to go somewhere on the plane/starship with no one around for that very reason. He had also dissed my little cousin with racism, to which my grandmother was greatly upset, and completely ignored my biological brother - acting as though my brother wasn't even his son.

We were very high in the air and in my distraught state of mind, I rushed to the other side of the plane/starship to try to get away from everything. I failed to realize, however, that this slight shift to the left in weight disrupted the plane's equilibrium and henceforth explained why everyone sat in an unmoving position, refraining from getting up if they didn't have to. And yet I was certain it hadn't been this way prior.

In any event, true to the disrupted weight distribution, the plane started tipping to the left. This wasn't something we could really help and unfortunately it was crucial that it remained level in the air. Furthermore, this wasn't something we could bounce back from and we realized that as soon as it tipped completely upside down, it would drop. There were no parachutes, air masks, or anything of the like, so we were going to die.

I was absolutely terrified of dying and desperately wanted to figure out a way to escape it. During the last few minutes of my life, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of disappointed and regret- in myself. I had, quite literally, wasted my life. And therefore, was there any real point to my existence in the first place if this was going to be the outcome? Did I even have control over my life in the first place? Or was it all predestined? Why was I brought here for a fleeting amount of time just to be taken back again?

Mind you, these memories did not stem from my "dream". They actually stemmed from real life, which is incredibly unusual for me as my dreams almost never have any connection to real life, save for the people in it. This inexplicable mixing of memories was akin to two realities merging into one. It was the simple things that began to get to me: not studying French or German enough to truly learn it, not writing more and expressing my innermost feelings, not contacting my brother after years (even though in the dream my brother was with me.) Then it gradually got worse as I took into account all the other, more long-term goals I had wanted to accomplish, and yet never succeeding in doing so. "I want to do this by age ____" Never did it. I spent my entire life dreaming and never doing. So many ideas and plans that were never brought to life. I was going to die without any real credit to my name. My tombstone wouldn't say "she did this, this, and this". It would victimize me. The people would say, "poor girl, she was so sweet, but never got to truly live her life." They would pity me. "Poor girl, she went through so much hell." Oh? Is that what I want to be known for? A victim of my circumstances, when I could have made so much more of myself?

In reality, I live every day thinking there's always a possibility it could be my last. I live my life in the future and past- not the present. I hate going to the Doctor's office and having them check my blood pressure as I can't stand to hear my heart beating. It isn't a reminder of life; it's a reminder that with every second that passes, my life is ticking away. I put myself under constant pressure to achieve, achieve, achieve. But for what? My life is finally in my hands and yet I have achieved nothing, beyond surviving a shitty situation and the chaos that surrounded me. Time has since passed and I have accomplished nothing. What is the point in anything, really? I'm just one person and with time will be forgotten just like everybody else.

 

[Ex-User (14663)]

On one hand you seem to be tired of existence because of the pressures it imposes on you. On the other hand you also seem to be saying that even if you lived up to the pressures and achieved what you wanted, it would all be meaningless. These two notions are in some sense incompatible with each other.

I also struggle with this, but to me the problem is: even if you achieve whatever you want to achieve, you will always have to deal with all the filth of human life. You can never hide from all the stupidity, cruelty, barbarism of humanity. You cannot hide from your own biology – you will always be a bag of liquids and mushy biological stuff. You will always have to eat, sleep, shit, satisfy your silly little evolutionary-designed drives. These things impose themselves on you – like you're stuck in a movie theater watching a shitty movie.

 

[Black Rose]

You can take control of your circumstances.
You can do so by changing yourself on the inside.
External asperations will happen if you know who you are internally.
The biggest problem in life I see in people is: They need to find themselves.

 

[QuickTwist]

I was absolutely terrified of dying and desperately wanted to figure out a way to escape it. During the last few minutes of my life, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of disappointed and regret- in myself. I had, quite literally, wasted my life. And therefore, was there any real point to my existence in the first place if this was going to be the outcome? Did I even have control over my life in the first place? Or was it all predestined? Why was I brought here for a fleeting amount of time just to be taken back again?

I can relate to this like you cannot believe.

I have these kinds of thoughts very consciously many times a day.

 

[Ex-User (13503)]

Maybe this is an "ego check” of sorts (I mean ego in terms of positive disintegration). Do you think it's realistic to believe that most people fail to achieve because they don't dream, or they aren't capable? In that respect, maybe the exceptional really aren't much different from everyone else. That's a real and legitimate fear for those with relatively unique gifts, but what if it's true? When I realized it was, I experienced what I can only describe as a dissociative state of ego death. You might, too?

But this might also open a new door, per se, by re-framing your goals within a different modality, producing a paradigm shift and providing new motivation for what are ultimately the same goals with a different meaning and an arrangement that's not necessarily a hierarchy, but, say, holarchical, or beyond.

Having discovered that many or most, if not all others share the same struggle as I, just with different individual manifestations reflective of the interactions between their intrinsic qualities and subjective individual value structures, my "ego" re-established itself by integrating others into my self-identity in a very "Buddhist"-reciprocal-causality-every-action-has-immense-yet-simultaneously-meaningless-but-experientially-valuable-consequences kind of way, and associating itself with higher order phenomenal goals that not only play with these newfound commonalities, but incorporate a degree of observation sufficient to make life a participatory scavenger hunt.

In a way, it's like having rediscovered the "play" of childhood. There is no stress. The pressure is gone. The “filth” of human life and what it means to be human are understood and embraced. You start being grateful for each heartbeat instead. It develops into a strange, new wonder, and a different kind of curiosity, as if you and the world are whole again. The “How does this work?” gets replaced by “What happens next?”

But it might just be me. I honestly don’t know. Hope not.

 

[Niclmaki]

Yeah - I relate to the general felings of this post from time to time. It’s kind of nihlistic. It can really bring me down sometimes, but I just have to remind myself of a couple statements.

Everything you do is objectively meaningless. But you, yourself, create meaningfulness. Whether that is getting totally engrossed in playing Risk with friends, or “succeeding” in life. Something commonly seen as trivial vs ‘seriousness of life’. (Think of that good ol’ fable of Sisyphus - and the Buddhist idea of creating your ego.)

I’ve sidelined “being happy” as a goal. As well as “being successful”. I just want to learn new things and find things that spark my interests. My brother has done similarly, but what he wants to do is essentially experience new sensations. (Trying tons of different coffees, cigars, foods. Things like that)

Contentment FEELS better than being happy to me, if that makes any sense.

 

[redbaron]

sounds like depression

trust me i'm an engineer

 

[Ex-User (8886)]

What age are you?