My Current Situation

T.I. – Whatever You Like.

As of 1-5-17, I am 30, unemployed with a networth of approximately -6,000$, and depressed. The age, money, and work, have little to do with the depression; I simply mention it to filter out the imbeciles. I’m depressed because I’m alone; I’m alone because a varied life combined with good genes has made me supremely mature, and thus incompatible with most.

That aside, I moved approximately a month ago into a decent residence – from a real shithole. I share this home with the owner and his dog; the last room will soon be filled by his friend. The home is clean, modern, and orderly – much like the owner. Thus far, his attitude has been responsible, respectful, and mildly mature. We’ve bonded over having mutually been left by people whom we aimed to marry.

I’ve been crawling out of a rather heinous depression for 6 months, triggered by being left, but deepened by a recent epiphany of how savage humanity is; I fear the rest of my life will be spent in isolation. Though steadily recovering, the depression has eventually advanced to the point that psychosomatic physical issues are occurring: regular exhaustion, reduced sex drive, abdominal pain, reduced breathing rates, an odd numbness on the tips of right-hand’s fingers, etc.

With the chances of finding company seemingly approaching zero, I have very little will to live; the machinations of the insentient universe are simply uninteresting to me; only company, and the human condition, interest me. When allowing my emotions to rule me, the physical problems become much worse; I expect I would simply seek comfort and avoid effort, eventually choosing suicide when required to return to fulltime work.

Simply put: I have no reason to live except the possibility of a better future, but its not enough to keep me alive. And so, I have to resort to something I fear, and most people die before being capable of: extreme metacognition. It’s essentially intensive meditation, without all that superstitious bullshit; I conscious control my thoughts, body, and emotions; it’s dangerous.

Funny thing is, I’ve wanted to do it for 15 years; just never had the balls. Now, I’ve got nothing to lose, and am motivated by the constant physical pain, and mounting stress as my savings diminish. I have such a fucking weird life. Oh, right, I’m volunteering part-time at an animal shelter – I’m not an “animal lover” though.

My current plans are to regain my former vigor through metacognitive expertise, then take a low-demand [likely minimum-wage job], and spend my free time self-improving, testing the waters of writing, and looking for love. I highly doubt I’ll ever find it, but if I do, I’ll rearrange my life from there. Though, judging by the regular course of my life, I’m sure some random chaos will occur, forcing me to one again become stronger and less happy.


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~ by Louis Naughtic on September 13, 2016.

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