
alwaysbored
Member
- Dec 10, 2018
- 5
Lately I have been struggling with the will to complete tasks. Even menial things, cooking for myself and what not seem like a drag. I enjoy the fruits of the labor, when I take the time to preform my skin care routine I am prettier which makes me happier. When I take the time to cook myself a nice meal it tastes good and I enjoy myself for a brief moment. But it's not enough, I procrastinate towards everything. I have to force myself to do anything and the enjoyment of it is very hard to experience.
I have desires and goals I would like to complete but even beginning to do them and undertaking such effort to learn a skill or better myself in some way feels so impossible. The process makes me insanely bored, I just can't focus long enough to make myself do it. And even when I do inevitably give up I'm left with nothing to do. I could play video games, watch movies or random entertainment online but the act of doing so feels pointless and my awareness of my deteriorating situation in life with no purpose makes enjoying these "fun" activities very unfun. I am left to sit around waiting for the next day to come unable to enjoy anything.
When trying to convince myself to do certain things, I end up getting in these thought loops questioning their ability to give me happiness in the first place. If I learn to say play an instrument will doing so really improve my life at all? Will forcing myself to do this thing bring me any purpose? What is the purpose? To play for someone else? To fulfill myself with creativity? It slowly devolves into this awareness that it's all meaningless and I must make my own meaning. This life is just some sandbox game with the sole goal to convince myself of some happy reality my own little state of psychosis believing in a meaning that is in reality my own made up rationality. To know that my meaning is up to me, when I am living life in a state being unable to make anything feel meaningful I think to myself I might as well just die.
And yet.. I don't want to die. Every bit of my very being desires life, so obviously there is some primordial part of my being that is separate from my thoughts. How can one desire both life and death unless there is more than one me? I am a paradoxical biological system which is both calming and infuriating, as at least there is some piece of me that is happy that I'm alive. What even is alive? What is death? There is a deeper understanding to these things that I know I do not grasp. To think about my own consciousness and the fact that everyone else is barred by their own human state to see in truth of what this consciousness even is leaves me fearing what could be on the other end. Not to mention the task of doing it, to convince myself I should go through such effort is also dumb and pointless to me. If it truly is nothing when I die, why is nothing more meaningful than suffering? If I am just gone, is that really better? I cannot image what that is like because I cannot experience nothing. Why not trudge through life experiencing the little ups that will inevitably come my way the next time I decide to cook myself a meal for example? I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know how I'll conjure the magical reasoning to do something that some part of me thinks is meaningful. I hope I find meaning, or a will to meaning one of these days. I don't know anything really, I just know I'm unfulfilled and it's only up to me to fix it.
I have desires and goals I would like to complete but even beginning to do them and undertaking such effort to learn a skill or better myself in some way feels so impossible. The process makes me insanely bored, I just can't focus long enough to make myself do it. And even when I do inevitably give up I'm left with nothing to do. I could play video games, watch movies or random entertainment online but the act of doing so feels pointless and my awareness of my deteriorating situation in life with no purpose makes enjoying these "fun" activities very unfun. I am left to sit around waiting for the next day to come unable to enjoy anything.
When trying to convince myself to do certain things, I end up getting in these thought loops questioning their ability to give me happiness in the first place. If I learn to say play an instrument will doing so really improve my life at all? Will forcing myself to do this thing bring me any purpose? What is the purpose? To play for someone else? To fulfill myself with creativity? It slowly devolves into this awareness that it's all meaningless and I must make my own meaning. This life is just some sandbox game with the sole goal to convince myself of some happy reality my own little state of psychosis believing in a meaning that is in reality my own made up rationality. To know that my meaning is up to me, when I am living life in a state being unable to make anything feel meaningful I think to myself I might as well just die.
And yet.. I don't want to die. Every bit of my very being desires life, so obviously there is some primordial part of my being that is separate from my thoughts. How can one desire both life and death unless there is more than one me? I am a paradoxical biological system which is both calming and infuriating, as at least there is some piece of me that is happy that I'm alive. What even is alive? What is death? There is a deeper understanding to these things that I know I do not grasp. To think about my own consciousness and the fact that everyone else is barred by their own human state to see in truth of what this consciousness even is leaves me fearing what could be on the other end. Not to mention the task of doing it, to convince myself I should go through such effort is also dumb and pointless to me. If it truly is nothing when I die, why is nothing more meaningful than suffering? If I am just gone, is that really better? I cannot image what that is like because I cannot experience nothing. Why not trudge through life experiencing the little ups that will inevitably come my way the next time I decide to cook myself a meal for example? I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know how I'll conjure the magical reasoning to do something that some part of me thinks is meaningful. I hope I find meaning, or a will to meaning one of these days. I don't know anything really, I just know I'm unfulfilled and it's only up to me to fix it.