I Don’t Want to Relive My Life

Me: “I don’t want to reexperience this.”

Therapist: “Once you process it in therapy it’s never going to happen again.”

Okay, the conversation actually went a little different than that, and I’m still not sure what she really meant or was trying to say. So I just paraphrased what I thought she was saying.

Anyway, her words did not give me any encouragement. I mean, how is therapy going to make my whole life go away? I don’t just need one thing to change or go away. I need the whole thing to change. I need to be somewhere else. Around different people. Doing something else. With resources and capabilities I can’t get.

I need to be completely reincarnated into someone else’s body and someone else’s life.

I don’t need this life.

The whole thing. Not just parts.

How do you explain to people that life itself is the trauma? Somehow it seems that people always think it’s one or two things that causes unhappiness in life. Some incident or some tweak you have to change or go away or some bad memory that haunts you. But what if it is you, your life and circumstances beyond your control that you don’t want? And what if there’s nothing good in that mess, at least nothing worth living for?

I chip away at this life, trying to make little improvements here and there, trying to give me something to be happy about, but I still end up in the same place. I still wake up in the morning wondering why I’m alive. Wondering why I’m doing this. Trying desperately to find motivation to do the things I need to do to live a life that goes nowhere, a life I don’t care for.

As silly as it sounds, this is one reason why I wish I could date and find a romantic partner. It seems like something that would give me something to get excited and happy about in life. Someone to share joy and fun with. Something beautiful and fun. But I’m not sure that sort of thing really exists. I know that for people like me, life was reserved to be somber. I was never cool enough, fun enough, sexy enough or appealing enough to have fun friends or have boyfriends.

I was just too drained and quiet, I guess.

So I’m supposed to find motivation, drive and purpose in the somber life, the quiet life.

I can’t find it.

I want to be somewhere else where I can connect with people.

Where I don’t feel so claustrophobic, stuck in the same, small, overheated, oxygen-deprived room day after day.

Somewhere where I have control over my circumstances and not wait on comfort. Where I am around people who respect that and want me to be happy, healthy and comforatable.

I want heaven, basically. A life that doesn’t exist for people like me in today’s day and age.

And I keep thinking, maybe it does exist in today’s day and age. Maybe I’m just not good enough. Maybe if I work on myself. If I could be more attractive and lovable.

Or is that just a fantasy? Who’s going to treat me better? Where do I find people who treat you better? Or a world that treats you better?

I’m just stuck here in this room. It’s hard to imagine a life outside of this room.

And in this room, there’s no one. No friends. No wonderful fun lively people. No opportunity. Limited resources. Nothing to live for, to strive for, to look forward to. I just want to not be in this room but there’s nowhere to go.

What if I was amazing and people loved me? Sometimes I wonder that. Not that that would change anything. But somehow I think it would open doors or open up my life a little.

Why would anyone want me around? Why would I think that anyone could? If anything I feel like the whole world wants me as quiet as possible, that the whole world wants me to disappear.

That is my life.

I want out of my life. That is why.

I want cake with icing to cool down my body. I’m overheated. That’s really the only true motivation I can think of right now. Why does being hot make me crave icing? I’m not sure but I’m guessing it’s probably a common craving for people with my illness. It’s hard to deny.

I wish someone cared. I wish someone saw me miserable and said, “Hey, let me help you out with that so you can feel okay.” Just one little tweak and things would be okay.

Not being ignored like this. Like I don’t matter. Like I can’t have any faith in humanity. Like there really is no humanity, just annoying roommate making fun of me and acting like I’m annoying, like I’m just a joke to him.

Why take life seriously when it’s all just a joke? Why take people seriously when they’re just a joke and they’re there for your gratification?

I’m tired of being the whipping boy. I’m not the whipping boy in the most literal and direct sense. But others mistakes, laziness, poor character, etc. ultimately leads to me being punished with poor circumstances, pain or illness. Others don’t keep up with their responsibilities and I end up dealing with the brunt of it while they get a free pass. I’m the whipping boy. They feel no empathy. They don’t care. It seems more than anything that they like to see me down, they like to make sure I never get my head above water. They don’t want me free and strong. At least that’s what it looks like. Why would they have so many double standards? Why do they whine and complain at the slightest thing but expect me to have endless strength to put up with anything without making a sound?

I wish alcohol would save me from this heaviness that I feel. It seems to be what everyone else uses. But it never did anything for me. Maybe their problem is not the same type as mine. Maybe alcohol won’t help my discomfort like it does for their discomfort.

If anything, I feel like alcohol would just make me too hot, and I’m already too hot.

I want a cold bathtub and some cold drinks.

Will this list of phone calls I have to make for medical appointments and therapy help me get there?

Doesn’t seem like it.

I just want cake. It’s the simplest, most straightforward and intuitive solution.

I’m tired. This is what I get tired of. I’m tired of this.

This is all life is. I’m tired of this. Why would anyone want this?

And I want someone who cares. Someone who sympathizes. Not someone who expects me to put up with it. What kind of person is that who just expects you to put up with stuff when they would never put up with it?

I don’t want this. I don’t want to deal with this. The lack of sympathy. The deprivation. The feeling of my insides being sucked in, imploding, that comes from deprivation. Being barely able to lift my head off the bed and having to live me life hour after hour day after day like this.

I just want out. I want a way out of this. I want kind people. A safe comforting place to go. No weird creepy people that seem out of touch with reality like they’re in a cult or possessed or something.

I need something safe.

No more liars.

No more wordplay or weird logic that ultimately has the same effect as lying anyway.

Just something safe and comforting. People who really care. People who don’t treat me like I’m worthless.

No more of this drama and confusion and this game you can never win.

No more ownership or possession by another person.

I just want to win for once.

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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