I still feel afflicted by my mind in many ways. I try to focus on the present, and distract myself by trying to live life in my fullest possible manner, but once in while I still notice that sinking feeling that has plagued me since I have known consciousness.
Intellectually I know it is just a sensation, yet why does it affect me so much, so much that if I am not careful I’ll spiral into some deep drowning darkness? I feel like there is some primal part of me I cannot understand with language or with the definitions taught to me by civilisation. A part of me that feels too raw to exist in this world, as though just by being alive it hurts.
That there is always some part of me who doesn’t wish to live: this feels extremely terrible when there are so many people fighting to see another day. It adds to my existential guilt – why am I able to exist? I should be careful what I wish for. The part of me who wants to witness life till the very end has been growing as I age and love, but that part of me that wishes I don’t have to endure all these feelings does not reduce. Sometimes it grows as well, along with the confusion I feel from this disjointed conflict.
I think I am handicapped in many ways, or at least in the current state of this society. I can’t function or operate like most people, I would admit readily that I am so emotionally fragile that I wouldn’t be able to withstand setbacks that many people go through. I am always ready to give up, allergic to the word resilience. I feel like I am not meant for this world, and perhaps if I was born in a tribe a thousand years ago I would have been left to die.
Most of the time I am deluded that I am just like any normal person, and harsh internal judgment arises when I am unable to function like them. Thanks to the progression of society I now know I have internalised ablelism. But I am still a product of the 80s, that I don’t know how to divorce myself from the part of me that keeps judging and shaming.
Is it worth keeping me alive, I find myself wondering a lot. If I am not a productive person by societal standards am I just taking up valuable space? Is this sort of thinking human nature because the nature of humans have been so inevitably shaped by our harsh survival conditions that only the fittest can survive when we were hunter gatherers, or is it the fault of modern capitalism that we are conditioned to think that we have to be useful in order to be worthy of life?
The fact that I am writing this. These are my thoughts every day. That I really have to fight against being not swallowed up entirely by them. That in order to continue living I have to keep learning how to ignore this primal sadness that exists in me. I am like a child that keeps having to have toys shoved in the core of my attention in order to distract me from crying.
