The World Is Too Sharp

My mind is always buzzing. I am happiest when I have something I can focus intensely on and concentrate, like a sketch for art class or a logic puzzle. I can usually find something to occupy my mind. For example, I can spend a while just studying the shape, depth, colors, and intricate details of a cloud. I can fascinate myself by moving my hand and thinking of the complex systems all working together to make it move, as well as imagining what it looks like below the surface. However, I get tired of things I found interesting fairly quickly, especially if I take a break from doing it.
I need need something to focus on that I can wrap myself up in or I get self-destructive and depressed. I think of how nothing really matters- you're going to be dead eventually, and when you are, what does it matter how much fun you had? You're dead. And eventually, all the good and bad you did will be forgotten. Besides, what does it matter to be remembered? It doesn't help you at all. And in the end, no progress we make as individuals or a society will matter, because eventually the sun will go out, the universe will stop expanding and then collapse in upon itself, and leave a void of nothingness. What will anything anyone does, or who or how anyone is, matter then? I think of how, no matter how well you get along with people or how large the crowd you are with is, everyone is alone. You're born, and no one understands what you're trying to communicate, nor you them. When you get older, you can convey what you mean, but since it has to be interpreted by the foreign mind of another person, you can never get exactly what you mean across- it's always altered by their filters. Everyone is alone in their minds, whether they realize it or not. You're born alone, you live alone, and you die alone. When I can't find something to distract and occupy my mind with, I get on this line of thought.
The world is too sharp and clear. I wish that sometimes, I could just escape it and rest in a gentle fog. Alcohol is a depressant, so it would do me little good. Drugs are tempting as an escape, but too detrimental in the long run. Self injury is just a temporary distraction.
I wish that I wasn't always thinking, that my brain wasn't always whirling, and that I wasn't always aware. It makes me lonely, resentful, irritable, bitter and depressed. I'm pretty smart, and am told I am lucky to be the way I am. I wish I wasn't, especially when I see normal people happy and connected.
Ignorance is bliss.

Feb 27, 2011

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  • You might be what is called a "highly sensitive person" which is fine, but you also have that mental delusion that too many HSPs have-- that only precious little you could possibly understand what living like this is like.

    HSPs could change the world for the better if they ever got over themselves long enough to function properly, which they can never do without assistance.

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