Requiem for a Dream

(TW: a lot)

It’s no physical substance that you put in your body

But dopamine addiction mixed with mental illness is one hell of a ride.  I don’t have a desire to be alive.  I choose to have goals because I feel like I have to, because I have to be alive, so I might as well set goals to make me eventually achieve success.  And music really does make me happy

But not all the time

Sometimes I just don’t feel like doing anything at all

I have to force myself to even breathe

How can I concentrate on what I want to practice when I have to focus just to keep myself alive 

And then there’s dopamine

The easy way out 

The instant gratification 

I don’t have to do anything, AND I can be happy?

In the moment, yes

Eventually I start getting resistant to the things that used to gratify me

I turn to anything that will give me that rush of satisfaction 

Scrolling for an entire day

Reading/watching porn

Masturbating

Binge eating

I feel so helpless against my situation as well

I go to therapy every other week

But nothing ever changes 

I’m forced to be completely isolated 

At least it feels like it

To my mother, even basic human needs are a privilege to be earned

I don’t deserve to socialize if I don’t do what she wants, when she wants and then some

I’m struggling to meet demands because of mental illness

And apparently the only way to fix that is to lock the thing that will help my mental health behind more demands

I have no discipline

I was never tought discipline 

The biggest thing my mother has ever taught me is that it’s easier to do nothing all day

She stays in her room watching ai slop all day

And we fend for ourselves 

She doesn’t even eat

But gets mad at us when we don’t 

Or when we don’t have our rooms clean 

Or when we’re not doing dishes

Et cetera

Et cetera

I fucking hate myself

Every time I think something’s getting better, it’s not

I feel like I’ll never do anything with my life no matter my talents 

I already don’t want to be here

And that doesn’t help 

I really don’t know what to do

I wanted to go into the military 

But I can’t trust the government not to send be to fight for a cause nobody should believe in 

The US Marines would’ve fixed my ass up real quick

I would’ve learned how to take care of myself

Instead of constantly succumbing to myself over and over

I don’t know how to deal with myself at all

No idea what to do

Or even where to start

I don’t even ever think of running away

Because it’s so much simpler not to think at all

Or move at all

My mother does what she’s legally required to do

But I can’t help but feel neglected anyway

What little relationship I have with her is bad

And my relationships with my siblings are even worse

Because we have to live with each other 24/7 with no guidance on how to do anything

They’re probably going to cut contact with me when I move out

If I even make it that far

I know I shouldn’t 

I wear the paper clip

I’ve made promises

But sometimes it’s unbearably hard to see any way forward 

I see death all around m

What if I overdose on those pills 

What if I cut myself with that knife

What if I get hit by a car going down the highway

It makes me so anxious 

My anxiety is awful

Like genuinely

If anything were to drive me to substance abuse 

It would be my anxiety 

I see so many people around me doing it

It’s sad

But at the same time somehow seems better than the way I exist every single day 

I don’t live

Time doesn’t progress for me 

I just live the same day over and over

With slightly different events happening each time

I don’t see it getting any better

That’s why I named this post “Requiem for a Dream” 

Because my “life” feels just like the movie

I’m at the lowest time of my life 

Everyone knows the downward spiral ain’t stopping any time soon

And the screen cuts to black