thoughts i cant share with anyone else.

I recognise that im not the most burdened human in the entirety of the world. I understand that people have suffered through wars, famine, and several other atrocities, far more macabre than i could even think of, and yet they somehow find the will to live. And then theres me, sad. I still see no point in living. Every day of mine is spent doing absolutely nothing. I cant communicate my troubles well to anyone else but myself. But i cant show this shit to my therapist. Its too candid. Its vulnerable.

I just wish i hadnt taken the liberty to exist. Its cliche to say, but im a waste of space.

Humans scare me. Its like we dont even realise we’re all dying. Despite witnessing ageing, death, everyone lives like its forever. It fucking pisses me off. How are people happy? why cant i just flip a switch in my brain and be happy, instead of always being sad? Isnt that a much better, probably more productive use of time? Why cant i use absurdism to define my life, instead of nihilism. Why cant i accept that life is meaningless, and that i should live anyway?

I wish my brain didnt think so fucking much. I cant do anything right. Ive lost interest in everything. I just want to get terminal cancer and die. I really dont give a shit of not being able to experience the beauties in life when most people dont get a chance to either.

I stopped taking zoloft again. Its probably affecting my mood again, but honestly, i feel the same, so fuck it. I think ive cursed myself with a lifetime of unstoppable dreams by withdrawing. My bad. But you know, at least dreams make my life a little more interesting.