Still Can’t See a Point to Being Alive for People Who Don’t Get to Feel Alive

I can pet cats. That’s nice.

I can watch youtube videos of animals or babies. That’s nice.

It’s okay, really. It’s okay. It’s comforting when you’re sick or in pain or your nervous system won’t behave.

So, you’re comforted. Now what? Sleep is also comforting. The absence of living, waking life is comforting. So what? If anything, it’s all more like a drug that gives you a reprieve, a drug you need all the time to help deal with pain, sickness and discomfort. But is that what cute animals are put on this earth for?

This post is about more than just that. But it’s my attempt at providing an illustration of this concept: What’s the point in being alive if you can’t feel alive? You can try to think of all the nice things and try to offer them as answers, but they don’t really answer the question.

Maybe this is something only people with depersonalization or chronic dissociation understand. Or people who are living in poverty, isolation, housebound, etc can understand.

You can’t do much with your life, so what? You can celebrate your small achievements, but so what? It gets tiring after a while.

Day 1: Yay, I brushed my teeth.

Day 2: Yay, I did it again.

Day 3: I just don’t care anymore.

Okay, I accomplish bigger things than brushing my teeth, but that’s just an example of how boring and pointless things get to be. Even the bigger things I accomplish don’t seem to get me anywhere and land me back at this same place. And I’ll forget them all, anyway.

And maybe I just don’t know because I’ve had depersonalization for such a long time, I can’t at all remember what “normal” feels like.

The point is, are we supposed to philosophize meaning? I mean, to try to create meaning out of nothing when we can’t feel anything?

It just gets to be a joke to try to think that way after a while. And really just makes the dissociation worse trying to intellectualize meaning because it’s not how you really feel.

What I really feel, is that I’m just sitting here waiting for something to come along in my life, that will give me some spark and make it all worthwhile. I’m waiting for something fun to happen. I’m waiting to really feel alive. I’ve tried pursuing it, but learned that it just doesn’t work that way. It’s really not worth it. The best things happen when you least expect it, not when you’re looking for it.

So I’m just sitting here waiting.

I get antsy. I just try to hold onto okay. Things are okay. I can handle this. Things are okay. I can handle this… Day after day.

I’m just barely existing. I’m just barely a person.

I used to have more brain fog, and things have gotten better. I am more aware of things and more clear-headed. But that just makes me more aware of the nothingness. It’s almost like brain fog was fun compared to this. It kept me preoccupied, albeit in a painful and unpleasant way.

I have a million ideas in my head of things I can do. I can’t do all of them. I can do some of them, but none of them feels like much of anything. Just more things to do. More drivel. Maybe one of them will lead me somewhere. Do I google ____? Do I go on this forum? Should I try ___?

I guess that’s why it’s so hard for me to do physical therapy exercises that I’m supposed to do. It just all feels like it’s leading nowhere. Deep down inside, I can’t get any feeling of satisfaction from doing it.

So here I am writing on my blog. It’s a little fun. But it really just feels like procrastination, like I’m not accomplishing anything.

Published by illnessislife

Sick of being so sick I can't live life. But it's been so long like this that I accept it. Illness is life. I have no other life.

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