Stricture of the mind and body consumes all logic and leaves only the debilitating tension of thought. Ideas tangled in doubt. Webs of theory woven by synaptical spiders. Uncertainty in the brain induces both tangible and nauseating knots in the stomach. To dull the physical feelings a plagued mind wishes to express, the mind must be conquered.
Next
The problem lies in the lack of a single right answer to,
“What should I do next?”
The more I wonder, the less certain I am.
And, if I am not certain, how can I proceed?
Sitting. Paralyzed by the thoughts.
Mind speeding ahead leaving the body behind.
Tightening of the chest and constriction of airways when I think,
“What should I do next?”
Thoughts About Thoughts: Part 8
Right now I don’t mind writing down what I’m thinking because it just feels like this is the time to write them down. It feels okay now but I am afraid that like almost all other things, I will exhaust myself by doing it too many times to the point that just the thought of doing that thing another time is aversive. It would be nice to have a better record of my thoughts to see what I tend to think when certain things are or aren’t going my way. I know that if I tell myself to write “once a day” or “just whenever I feel like it” I will probably never write in here again after today. I feel like I have no willpower to follow through with any plans anymore. It seems like my drive and ambition has deteriorated. If I can’t even get myself to be honest with myself on paper every once in a while, how do I plan to reinvest myself in medical school? I think this scares me to think about, but I know that I could do very well if I ever got into medical school.
Thoughts About Thoughts: Part 7
During the week I can hardly find or think of anything that seems appetizing. I crave nothing. Foods that are generally my “go to” snacks sit in the fridge while I think if there is anything at all that I could go buy that would be tasty. However, during the weekends, I eat constantly. There have been several nights where I go to bed with a belly ache and labored breathing due to my stomach cavity having expanded so much. It legitimately hurts, and I hate myself while I do it, but that doesn’t stop me. I continue to stuff my face with all the food, healthy and unhealthy alike until I feel so full that I have to lie down and digest or at least try to. Then Mondy comes around and I totally loathe myself for gorging myself shamelessly the whole weekend and feel like I should workout but wonder if it’s enough to make up for the caloric damage. I feel like I keep binging, but I never purge, and I think this goes for my feelings as well. I hold them in.
Thoughts About Thoughts: Part 6
I think of myself as a person who likes to be alone, but I am so lonely. Too lonely, and any social interaction I have seems to ease not only the loneliness but the sense of doom I tend to feel. When I think about my future, I really don’t see anything. Does that mean that I have no future? No ambition? No goal for a future life? I guess I don’t see a romantic future for myself, judging by how things have gone so far, and that is what I would want, but because I don’t see it happening, I can’t think of the future I want. My present loneliness has me convinced that I will always be lonely. This is still confusing for me. It is hard to articulate some thoughts more than others. How do you tell someone that you see no future for yourself? Now especially, my future is an abyss as medical school becomes a less likely possibility. It is scary to think that the one purpose I thought I had might not even be a possibility and after that, what purpose would I have to keep existing?
Thoughts About Thoughts: Part 5
This is interesting to me, for I have tried numerous times to express these ideas but this is the first time I have gotten past just thinking about writing it. In the past years, I have thought these things several times. Often long, elaborate, multi-part situational scenes in which I could make a series of decisions to change the outcome of the social event’s path in my favor. An example could be me thinking about going to hang out with a group of people and imagining/determining how the interaction would play out but then never participate when such a possible event occurred in reality. It was more fun I thought to have the idea of the social interaction that I could replay over and over in my head instead of going to the event and it not meeting the expectations I had in my mind. The idealized world in my head has made all my real interactions inferior to the imagined experience that felt so real in my head. I have set my own standards for society so high that reality itself cannot compare. I am numb.
On the Precipice of Cowardice
My dad thinks people who kill themselves are cowards, and I am not sure if he tells himself that because the last thing he would want to be is a coward and that helped motivate him to persevere, or if because he knows that one can bring himself up out of the deepest trenches to overcome the nightmares of yesterday as he has done, that he truly would see me as a coward should I decide to end my life. I fear being a coward too. But what is cowardly about ending a misery that seems will extend through one’s lifetime? Wouldn’t the prolonged pain make the good feelings and memories of the past become bitter as the distance between the happiness and despair grow? I think it can be brave to end your life, in a sense that one has no guarantee that the future will hold the same dissatisfaction of the present and could, in fact, maybe even improve. Hope is a mirage that guides daydreams, and without that hope for a more fantastical future, daydreams and nightmares are one in the same. Believing that the path ahead only leads further into the valley of the patheticism and shame, isn’t wanting to die with any fragments of dignity one have left courageous? Depression slowly sucks away your life force and will to live. Is it brave to want everyone who has ever cared about you see progressively deteriorate into a numb shell of the person you once were?
Thoughts About Thoughts: Part 4
I hate knowing that I’ll regret all the time I’ve wasted, knowing that I already do regret wasting each passing minute. But still, I find myself trapped in the same time-sucking paralysis day after day. My mind makes up for the lack of physical motion. As soon as I put the pen down, the thoughts keep spilling out into the forefront of my mind. I could write all day about the incessant thoughts. I wish I could have a transcript of my thoughts to look back on because often I have good ideas get lost because I don’t want to stop to write it down while I’m on a productive train of thought. My mind moves far faster than my hand does writing or typing. I think I have a lot of thought-provoking and original ideas, I just don’t know how to express them to others as elaborately or as vividly as they are in my mind.
Thoughts About Thoughts: Part 3
I think I see patterns, and I want to see patterns in everything. I want to believe things are connected on a higher order that requires my analytical skills to uncover. I never want it to be the simplest answer. That’s too simple, and non-anxiety provoking so there isn’t the same thrill as feeling you discovered something deeper. I find purpose in going beyond the surface of an answer like an archaeologist uncovering the first bone of a dinosaur. I want to spend more time making answers more complex so that I don’t have to answer other questions more pertinent to me at the time being. This is why I do so many crosswords, I feel good succeeding in answering the questions and solving puzzles which allows me to justify putting off answering questions in my own life, provoking more anxiety. Even though I realize this, I can’t stop doing the puzzles. I feel stuck.
Thoughts About Thoughts: Part 2
I feel like I see/know things about other people, not because they ever told me, but it’s almost like a sense that I get after evaluating all the available information I have about said person. I think I perceive other’s “true feelings” and thoughts, but how am I to know that I am right? Considering how poorly I socialize and maintain relationships, it is likely that I am completely wrong. It’s funny. It’s like being ignorant to my own social ignorance helps me cope. By allowing myself to think I already know about another person, I reason there is no need to further interact with them. I really think that I am scared. By making up other people’s thoughts, I save myself from considering the reality of their feelings/opinions about me because under it all, I really think they don’t like me. The scariest part is not knowing what is so unlikeable about me? Are there too many things wrong with me?
letdarkdaysbringlight 