Readers discretion is advised, the following text contains, mention of suicidal thoughts and death.
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When was the last time I enjoyed something? When was it that I truly had fun doing anything? I can't remember anymore. The frivolous days of gaming, enjoying every moment, whether it be alone or with friends, has long come to an end. The joy and anticipation of what's to come, a long awaited concert or a series, too has come to end. It's as if I have covid, everything is "bland".
When do you lose yourself? Is it when you lose purpose or is it when you no longer see a path? What does it mean to have a purpose? Is it the thrill of achievement? I am gonna accomplish this and that. I will reach this particular point in life. That's the purpose, and the way you achieve it, is the path. What happens when you lose them? When you don't know what to be or when you don't know how to be. Have we lost ourselves then? If so, how do we find ourselves back?
Today I sit here and wonder what life would have been like if I was different. If I was more accomplished. A person with greater capabilities. I never had a long term purpose, but I have had immediate ones. Be closer to your friends, be a good person, be more confident, and most importantly survive.
The path to getting closer to your friends was something I easily understood a few years ago. When they need you, be there for them. Know the right words to say when you need to. But lately I have been losing that path. With petty delusions like "Are the feelings they express to me what they really feel about me? Am I actually doing a good job or are they just pretending? Do they really hate me and are bearing with me?" It is a foul thought, one of those which cling onto you like a sloth on a branch.
Since the age of 15 I have never felt confidence in anything I did. That path was long lost and no matter how much I tried, I could never find it. The whole experience is a suffocation. Failure in every try, whether it be going to college, talking to my classmates or sometimes even talking to my family. There is nothing of greater frustration than my inability to do anything because of my lack of self confidence.
The most important purpose of all is to survive, and the path to that had never been muddy to me. It is clear what I have to do. Just give it time, and work step by step and everything will become alright. It is a path of great patience. Yet when you keep losing yourself again and again, when the paths you know start to disappear, when you are left stranded under a palm tree alone as a kid, and when everything around you is dark and silent, a hoarse voice calls your name. It echoes closer to you and pins you down, strangling and drowning you in its mirage, showing you a path with a clear purpose. A path which leads to eternal happiness. A path so easy that it takes a mere second, no patience, no time to waste, all it takes is one move. When the intoxication of the voice gets to your head, no other path makes sense, and that's when you lose your last purpose. The will to live, and comes the greatest disaster you would ever face. Death.
