Struggling with illness and existential despair.

[Eclair_de_XII]

I've been remembering things about a couple of people I once knew. To be specific, I've been remembering horror stories about them; not all of them are real. I'm afraid of mentioning those stories on here. In any case, I feel like I've got two separate sets of memories now: my regular memories, and my memories / confabulations that were born out of fear, horror, and potential trauma that I can't even remember correctly anymore. I know it's pointless to fixate on any of it, but I just can't help it. It's like I have this instinct to make myself relive it all until I become numb and immune to it. It hurts too much. I don't try to seek out others for help with my memories, except my mother, because I know I'll have no one to rely on but myself one day. I've been dissociating throughout the day for weeks, possibly months. I have only a vague recollection of what I've been doing for that time period. It's because I've been too immersed in my memories and nightmares. I feel like I've been in a trance all this time, from which I can awaken for only moments at a time. I wish I could be fully present in the moment. Then again, there's really nothing in my present-day life to be wholly enthusiastic about.

Back when I was in school, all I ever thought about was moving abroad and escaping my family. It was only after I moved abroad that I started to realize that living alone wasn't what I had envisioned it would be. It was also then when I realized the dangers of living alone, and with my being not too mentally stable anymore. About the only benefit I reaped from being abroad and having time to myself was my beginning to be aware of my trances, of waking up, of realizing what I've been doing, and of gaining a better idea, albeit not a clear one, of what I want to do with my life. Now, though, I just don't know what I want to do anymore. I'm too numb to feel; I'm too numb to want. It's always been this way. I suspect it's partly the reason why I had so much trouble deciding what I wanted to do for a living. Before, I always spoke of aspiring to rather lofty careers; but really, I only did so in order to stave off the despair of having no tangible ambitions; I did so in order to convince myself that I wasn't really heading down an uncertain path in life. I also spoke of having ambitions so as to not get an inferiority complex about people younger than me and the same age as me having a clearer idea of what they want from life. Now the thought of people my age being better than me haunts my every waking step; it's what saps me of my energy, prevents me from getting near anything done, makes me realize how pointless everything I do is. I always tell myself it's because I was too emotionally numb and ill to figure out what career to pursue and what sort of living would make me happy. Even now I don't know what I live for. Why do I want a house of my own? Why do I want anything? Why do I strive for so-and-so? I'm starting to get the feeling I've been brainwashed by society into thinking I am obligated to want things. The truth is that I'm too emotionally numb to want things. I don't see the point in anything. I don't know what I live for, and I don't know what sort of life I want for myself. Adult life is too hard. Sometimes I wish I could be a kid again.

I always tell myself I plan on reviewing math books, but every time I try to, I'm put off. I don't know; maybe it's because I just have no passion for it anymore. Maybe I've read them enough times; maybe I know them already to the point that it just seems utterly pointless, moreso since there isn't really anything for me to apply my studies to anymore. It's just pen-and-pencil work that hasn't got any value. It's not going to be graded, assessed, evaluated, or reviewed by any professionals. It's not going to serve any purpose. I like the idea of my studying math books in my free time. But the hopelessness and pointlessness of it all just overwhelms me too much, since I already have so many other things to worry about. For example, I'm taking two online courses in copyediting and web-development. But lately, I've been having trouble finding the point and joy in either. I get that work isn't supposed to be fun. But I wish something were. I wish I could have something that gave my life meaning, something I could be immersed into, something I actually cared about, something that will allow me to attain flow-state.

Before anyone advises me to seek it out, therapy for me has been just one big waste of time. Usually, therapists talk over me until time is up. Either that or they listen / pretend to listen, then start twisting my words into stories that are easier for them to believe. Then they'll start giving advice that I end up pretending applies to me. I end up getting bored out of my mind, listening to lectures about imaginary things because people suck and will believe damn near anything except the truth.

 

[marcusl]

You’ve been seeing the wrong therapists, then. Keep looking until you find one who works for you.

 

[Dale]

Before anyone advises me to seek it out, therapy for me has been just one big waste of time.

Maybe you need a psychiatrist instead of a psychologist. Many mental illnesses begin to manifest severe symptoms at around your age. Many of them need medication, not just therapy

I wish I could have something that gave my life meaning, something I could be immersed into, something I actually cared about

For me volunteering and service to others provide that sense of meaning. I do that through my church. If you are religious you could get involved in your church’s charitable activities. If you are not religious then there are many secular service organizations you can join.

But don’t do that instead of medical treatment. Do both.