I am done – Embracing the Ego Death

I am done…

Done feeling sorry for myself. Done simply existing instead of living. Done rotting away in every hole I dig for myself. Done fighting battles that I fabricate in my head. Done taking the easy option. Done being lazy. Done waiting for somebody to “save” me. Done convincing myself I’m suicidal and depressed because it’s easier than facing my problems.

I am 35 years old and have nothing to show for it, and I’ve spent my whole life blaming everyone and everything around me, blind to the fact I was doing it to myself.

No more.

A few months ago I had a very public mental health episode that lasted the span of 3-4 weeks. At the time I thought it was a manic episode, but in retrospect, it’s more likely to have been a cannabis induced psychosis. I broke myself on such a deep level, that I came out the other side completely alienated and lost. I was suddenly awake to all the things I had blinded myself to in order to make my life tolerable. I hated everything about who I was, the situation I was in, all the memories I had banked away in my head without feelings or emotions attached to them, now flooding back, each time exposing me to a world of emotion I had ignored my whole life. A friend of mine sent me some reading material that cleared up what I was going through. I had managed to scatter my brain so much that I essentially killed off the ego that I had been hiding behind for so long, and I was seeing the world through a new lens.

Coming to terms with life after that was a rollercoaster of an experience. Some days I would wake up having it all figured out, convinced I knew what I needed to do to “fix” myself and live a fulfilling life. Then the next day I’d wake up instantly slipping back into old routines and thought patterns.

I wish this was the part of the story where I told you how I came to terms with the experience, how I learned from it and moved on with my life, finally taking control and doing something productive. Nothing is ever that simple. I’m still all kinds of broken. I’m still not sure where I go from here. No idea what I want to do with my life. All I know is I’m clutching at straws, grabbing on to anything that might give me some purpose. Some drive. Something to live for.

I already made the decision that I’m not suicidal. Sitting over the bathroom sink with a knife to my wrist, ready to actually commit for the first time in my life, and not being able to go through with it, then spending the next hour screaming and crying for people who would never come, made me realise that I want to live. I just don’t want to live like this.

I’ve no idea what I’m going to do. No idea if I’ll commit to this diary/blog. All I know is whatever I’ve been doing isn’t working.

So far I’ve impulsively sold my PC (my main source of entertainment and income) in order to buy a puppy, wasted every penny I get my hands on purchasing impulse buys I didn’t need as a distraction, prioritised cannabis over food, managed to expose myself and my apartment to some dangerous people (resolved, for now), and land myself in a bunch of trouble with the police. Oh, and I broke up with my girlfriend of 10 years. That’s a whole thing on its own.

But, I’m trying. For the first time in my life I’m getting off my ass and doing something about it, instead of waiting for the world to offer me yet another easy out.

Wish me luck.

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