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COmplete ReTARD
May. 7th, 2010 05:28 am
I have days, like today, where I sometimes think I'm actually dead. That I never came back after that car accident, and everything I'm experiencing is my brain's last gasps of consciousness. It feels like it's been 25 years, but in actuality the synapses are fizzling out one by one in the cascading shut down of brain death. It would be an appropriate afterlife considering my presence of mind when I was 11. It would explain why all my suicide attempts never work - you can't die if you're dead. Or why certain drugs have no effect on me, like tobacco. Can't get addicted to anything if you're dead. Can't use drugs or alcohol for escaping because there really is nowhere to go. No hopes, no dreams, no expectations because, well, dead is pretty much the end of the line. It would also explain why I can't seem to get past the feeling that I got stuck on the idea I wouldn't make it to 18 and haven't been able to figure out what to do for the rest of my life. Of course I can talk to dead people, because I'm one of them. If I'm dead, this is pretty much all I'll be doing until I get unstuck from this particularly crappy afterlife and move the fuck on. It's kind of a pervasive suspicion that I've been harboring all these years. I have no soul and I'm actually dead, and this is Hell, or limbo or purgatory or heaven or the Elysian Fields or She'ol or Hades or Helheim or wherever I'm meant to go seeing as I'm dead. It also explains why my memories are so slippery - I'm losing more & more sectors of my hard-drive.
I don't think I'm a ghost. I'm not walking around like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense, a spirit in the world of the living, interacting with living beings. I just think my dying brain has fabricated this entire universe around me to entertain me in the millennia ahead.
Some days, I don't even think I'm 'real' at all. I think I'm Rob's delusion. At the bottom of it all, it sounds funny, and completely in line with my sense of humor. But, not trying to be dramatic or emo, I honestly believe these things to be true. I tell Rob he should have conjured me up as thin and talented, and on the bad days I get these surges of resentment towards him because of how he imagined me this way, and it's all his fault. It's a horrible thing to do to your imaginary friend. I could have been a big ball of blue lint with razor-sharp teeth or something instead of a dumpy woman with no future.
Now come to find out, there's a mental disorder in which you think you're actually dead. Called Cotard's Syndrome. Some people think they're rotting, or they've had organs putrefy or be removed. Some sufferers believe they've lost their souls. The case studies all seem familiar.
I'm not self-diagnosing. Even if I do have some form of Cotard's syndrome, it isn't treated much differently than regular ol' depression. I can't afford a shrink & don't even know if a shrink is worth it. Can't afford the drugs - even though I had a few good days the month I was on that other antidepressant that I now cannot think of the name for. Knowing that there is a delusional syndrome out there like that doesn't change the fact that today, I just don't think I'm alive.
I don't think I'm a ghost. I'm not walking around like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense, a spirit in the world of the living, interacting with living beings. I just think my dying brain has fabricated this entire universe around me to entertain me in the millennia ahead.
Some days, I don't even think I'm 'real' at all. I think I'm Rob's delusion. At the bottom of it all, it sounds funny, and completely in line with my sense of humor. But, not trying to be dramatic or emo, I honestly believe these things to be true. I tell Rob he should have conjured me up as thin and talented, and on the bad days I get these surges of resentment towards him because of how he imagined me this way, and it's all his fault. It's a horrible thing to do to your imaginary friend. I could have been a big ball of blue lint with razor-sharp teeth or something instead of a dumpy woman with no future.
Now come to find out, there's a mental disorder in which you think you're actually dead. Called Cotard's Syndrome. Some people think they're rotting, or they've had organs putrefy or be removed. Some sufferers believe they've lost their souls. The case studies all seem familiar.
I'm not self-diagnosing. Even if I do have some form of Cotard's syndrome, it isn't treated much differently than regular ol' depression. I can't afford a shrink & don't even know if a shrink is worth it. Can't afford the drugs - even though I had a few good days the month I was on that other antidepressant that I now cannot think of the name for. Knowing that there is a delusional syndrome out there like that doesn't change the fact that today, I just don't think I'm alive.
