I need to get this out of the way before saying anything.

I don’t want your empathy or support. Before saying anything, consider that I have written many posts like this before, and I have received a lot of responses.

If you think that you actually have something different to say then please comment. Otherwise you’re just going to waste your time.

As the title says, I am not suicidal. I have no plans to end my life, at least for now. I guess you could say that if I had the guts to end my life then I wouldn’t be in the position that I am currently in anyway.

If I was to try and describe myself in a single sentence, I think it would be this: I am utterly helpless and incapable changing anything in my life for the better. I have proved this to myself, over the last two decades, again and again and again.

I literally can not think of a single deliberate action that I was able to take, in the last 26 years I have been on this planet, that has made my life better.

I think of myself as a football. People and life events kick me in a certain direction, and I can’t do anything to go against that. If there is a hill, I can’t climb it. If there is a hole, I can’t stop myself from falling in it.

Despite not being suicidal, I am trying to figure out why I should continue living. I guess, since I am not suicidal, it allows me to think about my desires and hopes in a more rational way. My life is not dependent upon whether or not I have a reason to live, so I am not desperate to cling to any simple, made up desire that will help me avoid ending it.

And at this point, it is kind of difficult to come up with anything.

There are a lot of reasons for this. There is a lot of “disillusionment” I think; a lot of the life we live, the society that we sustain, our morals, our principles... are a scam. We are scamming ourselves. I can’t make myself see thing any other way no matter how much I try it; there is a very thin veil between our “civil” society and the absolute horror that we inflict upon “others” to sustain it.

It’s as thin as the saran wrap that covers the chicken we buy from our store. And it takes very little to look behind the veil.

I don’t believe this is the main reason for this... unease, this sickness, or whatever it is, that I have in me.

I am 26. I have a lower-middle class family. A high school diploma. I guess I also have some experience with electronics but without a diploma to prove that it’s pretty much worthless. My country has become completely unlivable, things are getting worse daily.

I have some kind of bone marrow disorder which causes it to produce too many red blood cells. I also have IBS which makes me have panic attacks because of the pain it can cause from time to time. I guess one good thing it did was forcing me to lose about 100lbs. I have a hard time leaving my house because I can’t control when the flare ups come, and when they come I have to get to a toilet fast.

I did have anxiety before IBS as well. I’ve had panic attacks. Lately I have been noticing obsessive behavior as well. Some days, especially if something bad happens or I am in a bad mood for some reason, I start washing my hands repeatedly until I dehydrate and tear my skin. I mean I am always in a bad mood, but whatever. I’ve had derealization for the last 3-5 years. Tried many antidepressants, and also couldn’t try many others because of my emetophobia.

I’m not even going into depression.

I also have gender dysphoria. I can’t remember the last time I looked at myself in a mirror. I guess there are two reasons for that.

Part of me just can’t recognize the person it sees in the mirror. It’s completely alien. It kinda freaks me out, when I realize how detached I am from my outside appearance.

But I think, part of me also knows that what I am seeing in the mirror is that the my psyche, my inner world, is real, and is represented in the real world with the body I am seeing in the mirror. I am not a dream, I actually exist. And it doesn’t like that.

Because I am not adequate. I am not strong. I have hurt people, most of the time not because I did something that I shouldn’t do but because I didn’t do the things I should have done.

I am completely helpless and powerless over almost all aspects of my life.

I stopped thinking about life, analyzing it and making decisions because I realized that it’s all futile unless I act on those decisions.

This is not a self fulfilling prophecy; I demonstrated to myself that I am unable to change my behavior to better serve my desires and my goals, repeatedly, too many times to count.

The last decade, maybe even the decade before that, I have declined steadily, and I don’t see that trend changing, ever.

And I am not even sure how I can actually enjoy things again. I know that compared to most other people, I haven’t went through much, but the things I went through killed something in me, and I can’t enjoy things the way I used to. It all feels empty.

So... yeah. I don’t know what to say. I have no reason to live, but I can’t kill myself. Not sure what to do or what to live for. I am a failure. I will fail. At this point I don’t think I even care about success or happiness or whatever.

So what do I do?