I'm losing my mind

It feels like pieces of my soul are dying away, day after day.

The truth is, there isn’t much of "me" left—honestly, I don't think there ever really was. It’s just a repetitive loop of behavioral patterns driven by emotional compulsions... unravelling habits, unravelling actions. A little bit of fear pushes me into a corner, a little shame drags me into a hole, a flicker of anger or rage sends me spiraling in the wrong direction. Every single day feels like waking up from a strange dream; every day is some entirely new reality, inhabited by a version of myself that is shrinking—someone who is becoming increasingly incapable of navigating the world.

It terrifies me because I can see how irrational I’ve become. I can't even rely on my own judgment anymore, let alone predict the things happening around me—or the things that have already passed. Each day dictates its own reality, governed entirely by raw emotion... my reason serves as nothing more than a processor in a projector, nothing more.

I can't make sense of the person I was two weeks ago—if I could, I’d beat him senseless and curse his very existence. And I can't get back the person I was six months ago; I’d embrace him now and beg him not to leave. Every weekend I seem to manufacture a new trauma... every day I feel like wet cement being churned in a mixer.

Week after week, I watch myself making mistakes that I simply cannot explain. I see them happening, yet I am powerless to stop them—there was no "other me" there to step in and intervene. A wave of horror and grief hits me whenever I realize how good things could have been... how much better I could have done.

I can't see a future. Any plan I try to make feels like a delusional fantasy that will inevitably wreck me if I actually commit to it. I am terrified of my own stupidity... terrified of the fury and the hatred, because they always lead me straight into deeper messes.

I am deeply, profoundly afraid.

I'm going through the exact same thing. I’m only 24, yet I feel like my time is running out already. I spend all my energy overanalyzing past mistakes instead of actually living in the moment.

I think the beauty lies in how every day is just... reality. That sense of security and peace comes from your idea about reason acting like a processor in a projector—that’s such a killer line! 👍
To me, one of those "newly discovered" life lessons is actually learning how to live in the moment. I feel like people get this wrong all the time; they think living in the moment means you have to be constantly chasing stuff—traveling, partying, being social, hitting milestones—just a massive checklist of activities. But for me? Living in the moment is about understanding my emotions—where they're coming from, why they're there, and what triggered them (you know, that two-layer thing where you have the surface emotion and then the deeper layer underneath), regardless of whether the feeling is "good" or "bad."

The hard part is dealing with that split. Every day is different, emotions are constantly shifting, and logic usually shows up way too late—everything feels totally out of my control. But by leaning into reason, I think I've hit this kind of "sync"—now, the feeling of the moment and the logical explanation happen at the same time. It’s allowed me to finally let go and trust that I won't "mess up."
If you keep tripping over the same stone, you've gotta learn something. The real nonsense is not knowing "why," because that’s exactly what drives people into those frustrating cycles of self-blame.

Guilt isn't meant to be a sentence; it's just a compass pointing toward where you need to grow internally 🙂 It's not there to judge you or "destroy" you.

Peter Murphy6 said:I think the beauty lies in how every day is just... reality. That sense of security and peace comes from your idea about reason acting like a processor in a projector—that’s such a killer line! 👍
To me, one of those "newly discovered" life lessons is actually learning how to live in the moment. I feel like people get this wrong all the time; they think living in the moment means you have to be constantly chasing stuff—traveling, partying, being social, hitting milestones—just a massive checklist of activities. But for me? Living in the moment is about understanding my emotions—where they're coming from, why they're there, and what triggered them (you know, that two-layer thing where you have the surface emotion and then the deeper layer underneath), regardless of whether the feeling is "good" or "bad."

The hard part is dealing with that split. Every day is different, emotions are constantly shifting, and logic usually shows up way too late—everything feels totally out of my control. But by leaning into reason, I think I've hit this kind of "sync"—now, the feeling of the moment and the logical explanation happen at the same time. It’s allowed me to finally let go and trust that I won't "mess up."
If you keep tripping over the same stone, you've gotta learn something. The real nonsense is not knowing "why," because that’s exactly what drives people into those frustrating cycles of self-blame.

Guilt isn't meant to be a sentence; it's just a compass pointing toward where you need to grow internally 🙂 It's not there to judge you or "destroy" you.

It’s a nightmare... you can't renounce it, you can't switch it off, and you certainly can't detach from it. Emotional states dictate whatever the intellect tries to concoct; reason is essentially blind, merely rearranging the deck chairs while being completely unaware of anything else. It’s just this endless, frantic dance where you can't think of anything else, can't see anything else... a momentary, semi-conscious motivation dictates the entire experience of the present, animating your whole body toward certain directions—some half-formed, chaotic internal force dreams up some nonsense, and your entire physical being just blindly follows it

Peter Murphy6 said:I think the beauty lies in how every day is just... reality. That sense of security and peace comes from your idea about reason acting like a processor in a projector—that’s such a killer line! 👍
To me, one of those "newly discovered" life lessons is actually learning how to live in the moment. I feel like people get this wrong all the time; they think living in the moment means you have to be constantly chasing stuff—traveling, partying, being social, hitting milestones—just a massive checklist of activities. But for me? Living in the moment is about understanding my emotions—where they're coming from, why they're there, and what triggered them (you know, that two-layer thing where you have the surface emotion and then the deeper layer underneath), regardless of whether the feeling is "good" or "bad."

The hard part is dealing with that split. Every day is different, emotions are constantly shifting, and logic usually shows up way too late—everything feels totally out of my control. But by leaning into reason, I think I've hit this kind of "sync"—now, the feeling of the moment and the logical explanation happen at the same time. It’s allowed me to finally let go and trust that I won't "mess up."
If you keep tripping over the same stone, you've gotta learn something. The real nonsense is not knowing "why," because that’s exactly what drives people into those frustrating cycles of self-blame.

Guilt isn't meant to be a sentence; it's just a compass pointing toward where you need to grow internally 🙂 It's not there to judge you or "destroy" you.

But that is exactly where the problem lies—everything is lived in the moment because there is no "self" outside of that complex assembly of things that isn't currently happening. You can't stop yourself; you can't make the wind blow in reverse, you can't make the water flow uphill... you simply cannot prevent yourself

Peter Murphy6 said:I think the beauty lies in how every day is just... reality. That sense of security and peace comes from your idea about reason acting like a processor in a projector—that’s such a killer line! 👍
To me, one of those "newly discovered" life lessons is actually learning how to live in the moment. I feel like people get this wrong all the time; they think living in the moment means you have to be constantly chasing stuff—traveling, partying, being social, hitting milestones—just a massive checklist of activities. But for me? Living in the moment is about understanding my emotions—where they're coming from, why they're there, and what triggered them (you know, that two-layer thing where you have the surface emotion and then the deeper layer underneath), regardless of whether the feeling is "good" or "bad."

The hard part is dealing with that split. Every day is different, emotions are constantly shifting, and logic usually shows up way too late—everything feels totally out of my control. But by leaning into reason, I think I've hit this kind of "sync"—now, the feeling of the moment and the logical explanation happen at the same time. It’s allowed me to finally let go and trust that I won't "mess up."
If you keep tripping over the same stone, you've gotta learn something. The real nonsense is not knowing "why," because that’s exactly what drives people into those frustrating cycles of self-blame.

Guilt isn't meant to be a sentence; it's just a compass pointing toward where you need to grow internally 🙂 It's not there to judge you or "destroy" you.

It isn't "difficult," per se; it is terrifying how easily the process unfolds—how easily we stumble, trip, and collide with life. It is hard, perhaps impossible, to hold onto anything or prevent anything—to restrain oneself or guard against our own stupidity, which is as blinding as it is massive
A person might feel the urge to decide to follow the exact same routine every single day just to avoid falling apart every few days, but that is an impossibility because control cannot be established. It’s a total oxymoron... memory does function to some extent, providing a record of mistakes, wrong turns, and those moments of confusion, negligence, or arrogance toward reality. There are fleeting ideas from one moment to the next about what one *should* want or do, but what one actually wants, or doesn't want—and the resulting directions and conclusions drawn from feeling, thinking, and then acting or speaking—it all shifts from morning to night as if simmering in a pot. Something your entire being recoils from in the morning is exactly what you embrace with your whole soul by evening... even the contradictions are felt. This lack of control in the process is maddening; a person realizes clearly that they aren't a "person," that a cohesive self doesn't exist, and that they cannot rely on their own actions or consciousness. At times, even the simple idea of leaving the house creates fear and dread... how can you take a single step when the step itself is taking you somewhere apart from yourself? And yet, you *are* that step, and there is no other "you" beyond the very movement that defines you.

Peter Murphy6 said:I think the beauty lies in how every day is just... reality. That sense of security and peace comes from your idea about reason acting like a processor in a projector—that’s such a killer line! 👍
To me, one of those "newly discovered" life lessons is actually learning how to live in the moment. I feel like people get this wrong all the time; they think living in the moment means you have to be constantly chasing stuff—traveling, partying, being social, hitting milestones—just a massive checklist of activities. But for me? Living in the moment is about understanding my emotions—where they're coming from, why they're there, and what triggered them (you know, that two-layer thing where you have the surface emotion and then the deeper layer underneath), regardless of whether the feeling is "good" or "bad."

The hard part is dealing with that split. Every day is different, emotions are constantly shifting, and logic usually shows up way too late—everything feels totally out of my control. But by leaning into reason, I think I've hit this kind of "sync"—now, the feeling of the moment and the logical explanation happen at the same time. It’s allowed me to finally let go and trust that I won't "mess up."
If you keep tripping over the same stone, you've gotta learn something. The real nonsense is not knowing "why," because that’s exactly what drives people into those frustrating cycles of self-blame.

Guilt isn't meant to be a sentence; it's just a compass pointing toward where you need to grow internally 🙂 It's not there to judge you or "destroy" you.

As I understand it, guilt, shame, and rage all function as the underlying reason my muscles tense up during the workday—to the point where I can't stop compulsively ruminating on things until I eventually start talking out loud to myself...

I suppose what I'm experiencing is a physiological process through which the body attempts to process an issue, but it is incredibly difficult to sustain; it triggers violence, then flight, then paralysis, then spasms... and once that cycle passes, it just collapses back into depression, passivity, and sudden eruptions of fury.

In reality, everything is driven by hatred and rage—some kind of deep-seated resentment—and a profound disgust with oneself, as if various personas are being forced to align just to perform some task or articulate some nonsense intended to satisfy some endless neurotic loop.

I could tell myself a hundred times that I need to practice acceptance, but it isn't a conscious process... inside me, everything is hating, fleeing, snarling, biting, and constantly rejecting, denying, refusing, denying... I can be as intelligent or wise as I want, but the subconscious process is simply hijacked by that resentment and hatred; I cannot choose otherwise. When the part of me decides, "To hell with this, I'm going to go get high," I go get high. When it decides, "I don't care, I'm just going to wallow in this mess," I wallow. When it decides, "I'll play the intellectual now and pretend to be someone important," I play the part. The intellect always serves the impulse perfectly—much like running a poorly optimized game on an old PC... it stutters and lags, but it executes the command flawlessly right up until the moment it crashes.

After all that, there is nothing left but even deeper self-loathing and pure horror at one's own emptiness beyond these patterns... it is like watching your own limbs carry out entire actions independent of your will or supervision, or listening to yourself utter full sentences while realizing that "you" aren't actually the one speaking them. And it isn't just about isolated actions or words; it's about entire processes and sequences unfolding day after day... leaving behind nothing but dread, terror, and shame.

I see myself just chilling, kicked back in an armchair made of pure consciousness, somewhere in that half-formed meta-mess ( 🤣 ) that’s convinced it holds all the cards and runs the whole show. But look—control is a two-way street, just like delusions are. Power doesn't actually exist outside of how we perceive it as a value. We drag morality into everything about our existence, including using it as the starting point to explain what "power" even is.
When power isn't in the picture, you’re basically on vacation—just leaning back and enjoying the ride, trusting the driver. Think of it like this: if you—the "customer"—didn't exist, the driver wouldn't have a job either.
There are two drivers in play here: one is wise, the other is a total loose cannon. A person "needs" to learn how to tell which one is "talking" and stirring up desire. That’s the control part—you get to choose. But to make a choice, you first "have" to trust yourself. You have to find yourself in that armchair and just let go.
Honestly, you’re the one holding yourself back. "They" or "it" is just playing in a sandbox during a storm while you sit there wondering whether to throw "it" entirely into the washing machine or just toss in the laundry.
Try thinking a bit harder about how to pull "him" away from all those metal-iron-whatever-conducts-electricity poles stuck in the sand meant to protect "him." If that's not control, I don't know what is.
And I'm telling you, you're just you without "morality" or responsibility—it’s not about that, it’s about levels of power that you either aren't aware of yet or are just temporarily ignoring.

Sure, you can tell yourself a hundred times to accept something. But you’ll just suppress it until you snap and need an outlet—another mess. There’s no point in saying "no" to yourself because the very next thought after that firm decision—well, a stronger need will just hit, and nothing will change.

So why are you pissed off? Is it at yourself or at whatever dragged you here? Who are you making excuses for, or who are you pinning the blame on? All of that is just a brake on objectivity—on progress. It’s the cause-and-effect stuff that messes with your ability to decide in the moment to just grab a drink. It messes with your will.
Willpower isn't automatic in these kinds of spirals; you have to anticipate it and "program" it, and over time, it pays off. If you don't want to remember, if you feel like you aren't ready and you're still angry, try programming specific moments to release the tension that you already know is building up. And don't beat yourself up for doing "stupid things" (to a certain extent, anyway 😬 ); you decided to do it and you planned it, so you're gaining power. That way, you're being responsible to yourself. You aren't giving yourself too much freedom—the key is in the planning and organizing, having control over the urge.

Later on, you slowly start uncovering more about that urge, with a calmer soul and zero guilt. Why did it start? When did it happen? What was it serving "back then," and what is it serving now? Once you cover that, you catch the consequences—both for yourself and for the people around you. You start seeing patterns and repetitions and asking the same questions: why, when, how. Cover the consequence, then the consequence of the consequence—the effect. See if it impacted some other event. Basically—start connecting the dots 🙂
You can do this superficially, covering maybe the last 5 years, or you can go way deeper—that’s up to you.

If you start feeling panic, try swapping it out for excitement—something like butterflies. Then, try to remember a time you felt positive nerves in your life that actually led to great results.
The power of self-persuasion can serve you incredibly well, provided you're aware you're using it.

Also, the brain has this little trap. Sometimes you're thinking about something and suddenly this "perfect" logic and sense seems to emerge. The feeling is so subtle it's almost invisible, and then suddenly everything falls apart and you're hit with this misery of failure and a sense of panic because you're afraid of being stuck. I interpreted this to myself as that "loose cannon" driver not wanting progress, so he invents a loophole, throws in some confusion—a temporary "virus" to muddle things up and actually block the "truth."
When that happens to me, I step away completely. I shift my focus because I realize that anything following that moment makes zero sense—it just creates dizzying spirals. I just grab onto the first thing that pops into my head because I believe the "wise" driver is the one making the call (pure logic; he's just confused because he didn't get what he wanted, so he gives the other guy enough time and space to whisper which direction to go). Once that reaches a saturation point, I go back to where I started.

All those "my" ways I process info—that whole semi-rational approach thing—I've worked through over time. Maybe you can grab a few bits from there and plug them into "your" own way of doing things.
Life’s got its ups and downs—just like how a recliner rocks right along with ya.🤷
Maybe instead of just jumping straight into learning how to drive a car, we should first learn how to just... be ourselves behind the wheel.🐔

placidwolf27, placidwolf27
You’ve been absolutely cornered by the Stitcher!
How are you holding up regarding laughter and humor
as those genuine, good friends in your life?
A little bit of levity is necessary to cushion the blow of all this gloom.

This damn anxiety has been riding my back for years now—it gives me a gift every single day, I swear. There isn't a force in heaven or on earth capable of setting things right... everything just falls apart, everything spirals into total chaos, while the powers that be just sit up there, watching it all go south and twiddling their thumbs

Honestly, what a joke—those guys aren't delivering anything at all!🕺

Shame is a truly revolting sensation—it feels as though the psyche is rejecting fragments of one’s own identity, much like a body rejects a transplanted organ... or like something is rotting from within and simply refuses to be purged.

It creates this profound internal friction that stifles any sense of agency; it drains your strength and completely wrecks your focus. It’s almost physical—you try to work, but you just stop because your muscles refuse to cooperate. You desperately want to project some semblance of calm, but you can't control the emotional outbursts... you can only hope to suppress the occasional flare-up.

I am completely paralyzed right now. My muscles are cramping, my thoughts have become compulsive, and I can't find a single coherent direction to head in. Everything feels broken. I can't accept myself like this—and what makes it worse is that I knew better, yet I didn't act better. There is no forgiveness here, no letting go, no acceptance... there is only this spasm, this disgrace, this misery... it persists through the entire workday until I finally sit down with a beer—probably four of them—just to numb it all.

I can be as intelligent as anyone else, and I can explain all of this quite articulately during those fleeting moments when I am calm enough to speak my mind, but it doesn't matter once the bite sets in. Once it takes hold, it isn't up to me anymore. I cannot think differently, I cannot behave differently, and I cannot find my way back. It’s devastating... it truly, deeply hurts.

There is no "I" within this...

I simply am not here.

What exists are patterns, structures, mechanisms—but there is no soul inhabiting them.

I don't even know who is typing these words—honestly, I have no idea.

Beyond the immediate execution of some programmed pattern, I do not exist...

I possess no awareness of anything that isn't a fleeting, momentary state.

It is impossible for me to articulate anything that isn't merely a byproduct of that instantaneous condition.

States shift constantly through the day—from morning to noon, from noon to night—and I lose track of who I am, what I’m thinking, or why I’m doing any of it. One moment is one thing, the next is entirely another...

I am not here. I don't exist.

I truly don't know who is at the keyboard.

So, when did this whole thing actually start happening to you?

placidwolf27 said:There is no "I" within this...

I simply am not here.

What exists are patterns, structures, mechanisms—but there is no soul inhabiting them.

I don't even know who is typing these words—honestly, I have no idea.

Beyond the immediate execution of some programmed pattern, I do not exist...

I possess no awareness of anything that isn't a fleeting, momentary state.

It is impossible for me to articulate anything that isn't merely a byproduct of that instantaneous condition.

States shift constantly through the day—from morning to noon, from noon to night—and I lose track of who I am, what I’m thinking, or why I’m doing any of it. One moment is one thing, the next is entirely another...

I am not here. I don't exist.

I truly don't know who is at the keyboard.

It feels to me like you're starting to notice the way you've been operating for a while now. Just observe.

Elizabeth Castillo87 said:So, when did this whole thing actually start happening to you?

I’ve been seeing this for quite a few years now—actually, it’s been several years...

I see myself as nothing more than a series of processes—and while control might be an inherent part of the system, it isn't *my* control. There is no "someone" at the helm. Willpower might be active within the machinery, but it isn't my will; there is no singular agent behind it. Behaviors just occur. I think, I speak, I act—that constitutes the "me"—but the core is absent. It’s just processes unfolding. There is no choice involved, no sense of agency... it’s as if there is no one to choose.

Mostly, there are these narratives—complete bullshit, naturally—that the brain churns through, allowing some sort of ego construct to float along just enough to make the state sustainable. It even hallucinates a sense of direction, much like when one is dreaming...

However, every so often, that little delusion collapses. Either the ego construct loses its buoyancy, or the delusion gains too much momentum and shatters the construct entirely. And then, it truly hurts—in the sense of rage, shame, disgust, suicidality, aggression... an utter inability to orient oneself or assemble any concept of what tomorrow holds or why today exists. Because there is no one there, no way, no means, no actor... there is simply nothing inside.

That is the essence of "what started happening"... it recurs periodically.

It is roughly like that feeling when you wake up from a dream and feel fine, but then you suddenly remember what happened during the dream while still half-asleep, and it just crushes you—taking hold of you until you don't know what's what. It is that sensation, merely reproduced over a span of months instead of minutes...

Or, it is like those moments when you realize a certain train of thought—some sort of mindless drift—has carried you away from something negative you were feeling, or allowed you to momentarily forget something unpleasant. You realize you are moving like a unit in a specific direction, but that "unit" is merely an imagined persona. The moment you snap back to reality, or the moment that absence stumbles or collides with something, that persona disintegrates. You never had control over it, nor did you consciously intend to stop it, and that is precisely what carries you off in the wrong direction...

Yes, exactly that, but on a much larger scale. It isn't just a momentary lapse in presence; it is the entire superstructure. It is the whole narrative of life that allows one to map out an internal topography of emotions and impulses, imagining a "tomorrow" that one feels compelled to pursue. Without it, all that remains is raw, negative emotion and physical exertion, without anyone to understand the what or the why. You are reduced to the memory of what you shouldn't do now, and the shame and fear that allow you to cling to that avoidance...

The concept of things—the framework that allows one to move from day to day without negative emotions causing constant derailments—simply breaks down. When the system jumps the tracks, there is no one left to steer. The thing steers itself via some narrative, some script, some story told about yesterday and tomorrow. When that stops working, everything falls apart. Some ego is left drifting in a void, with no way to reconstruct an operational identity or a set of reasons for or against anything. Everything just boils down to carrying the weight of negative emotions and the sheer necessity of daily survival...

Based on everything you've posted before, I know you’re a total skeptic when it comes to meditation and all that zen stuff, though honestly, I think it might actually do you some good.
Have you even thought about reaching out to a professional for some help?

Elizabeth Castillo87 said:Based on everything you've posted before, I know you’re a total skeptic when it comes to meditation and all that zen stuff, though honestly, I think it might actually do you some good.
Have you even thought about reaching out to a professional for some help?

I don't need to "believe" in meditation... I know it works, and I understand the mechanics behind it quite well—both from practical experience and a bit of theoretical study—but the issue is a total lack of self-discipline to actually make it a habit. I can barely manage to finish a book, let alone commit to a regular meditation practice just because I imagine it would be beneficial...

As for professional help—I have zero interest in pursuing it. I haven't stepped foot in a psychiatrist's office since 2015 and I don't intend to ever go back. They simply don't know how to help... at most, they'll prescribe some medication to get me through the absolute worst moments, but that isn't a real long-term solution...

If I find myself truly hitting a breaking point, I can always head to the ER—and I keep a supply of meds on hand for that exact reason, mostly because I don't take them regularly; they aren't even necessary most days, and frankly, the side effects are a nuisance...

I know I won't take my own life—I just know, intuitively, that I am incapable of it, and a lot of irrational anxieties act as a deterrent... perhaps the subconscious is just protecting itself from itself. So, I suppose I have no choice but to process all of this somehow...

I feel like I'm actually learning something, though I haven't figured out what it is yet. I don't understand why I can't be different, and that's where the fear sets in—knowing I have to get up in the morning, go to work, and come home without completely falling apart in the interim. At the same time, I realize there is no one to monitor my behavior or dictate my state of mind hour by hour. I never know what's coming next... I never know who I'll be when I finally walk through my front door, or what I'll be enduring while I'm on the clock. Conscious decision-making isn't a factor here... it isn't up to me. There is no "me"...

If your goal is to nip a certain pattern of behavior in the bud—one that, if I’m reading your history correctly, ends up causing you significant grief down the road—then you have a choice to make. If you find yourself lacking the courage, the specific toolkit, or even just the raw willpower to tackle this head-on by yourself, then you absolutely must seek outside assistance.
I suspect you already have a very clear picture of what you want to avoid and what keeps you up at night. You are quite adept at observing and documenting the inner mechanics of your own psyche, but I fear you might be getting too caught up in the theoretical. In reality, these issues are often quite practical and grounded; they can be resolved quite tangibly if you simply allow yourself to take that step. We all share that universal hesitation—that paralyzing fear of actually stepping up and making a move.
I truly want to see you experience a positive transformation!

Man, you’ve clearly had some kind of awakening and just tore everything down. From what you’re saying, it sounds like you’re going through a "dark night of the soul"—you know, that stage people hit right after they reach enlightenment. An enlightened person usually struggles to deal with most things for a while.

You described reality with perfect lucidity, though I suppose you might have leaned a bit too hard into guilt and negativity. I guess I’m curious about how objectively big of a mess this mistake actually is—like, if someone else you knew did the exact same thing, what would you honestly think of their actions back then?

It’s almost as if, in the absence of ego, you were buried under that bag of ash we all carry on our backs, just uselessly sprinkling it over ourselves. But we carry it, and we sprinkle it, regularly. So, if you could maybe include a few details for illustration—what exactly is it that you messed up so badly? It might help us try to offer some more concrete help.

When that feeling hits me—that regret over something I did or didn't do—I’m lucky enough that a part of me still says, "Who cares? This is my life. Who's actually looking at me?" I find a weird sort of comfort in my own insignificance. It’s such a powerful kind of freedom. If I don't judge myself, then nobody else can really judge me either. People are far too preoccupied with themselves to truly notice me, so they don't even see my stupid mistakes; it's just me seeing them. And I’m not going to throw the first stone, not even if I wanted to. You shouldn't either!

But that thing you mentioned—about when you're building something up, getting too carried away, and then the whole construct just collapses... man, I remember that so vividly. It hurts, more than anything. Well, it hurt more before the "flatline" phase. Now, I’ve reached a point where I appreciate that you can actually rise again, and I even value the fact that something can actually hurt me and make me feel something, since it's been nothing for a long time. So, let it collapse, whatever happens. The construct isn't really the point. Anything is better than a flatline.

Though, I guess it feels like the male psyche might be different, and that maybe you can't quite reach the bottom. When a person is incredibly patient and endures everything, there is no bottom.

So, if you could be just a tiny bit more specific about which behaviors you find unacceptable.
It might help if you found an activity involving kneading clay or touching soil, just to bleed off that negative charge. Maybe working with your hands, like gardening, or even walking barefoot if you have a dirt path nearby or something like that. But definitely something involving earth.

Hey, when you said, "I don't have to believe—I know!"—that is basically my life motto.🙂

Michael Ramirez11 said:Man, you’ve clearly had some kind of awakening and just tore everything down. From what you’re saying, it sounds like you’re going through a "dark night of the soul"—you know, that stage people hit right after they reach enlightenment. An enlightened person usually struggles to deal with most things for a while.

You described reality with perfect lucidity, though I suppose you might have leaned a bit too hard into guilt and negativity. I guess I’m curious about how objectively big of a mess this mistake actually is—like, if someone else you knew did the exact same thing, what would you honestly think of their actions back then?

It’s almost as if, in the absence of ego, you were buried under that bag of ash we all carry on our backs, just uselessly sprinkling it over ourselves. But we carry it, and we sprinkle it, regularly. So, if you could maybe include a few details for illustration—what exactly is it that you messed up so badly? It might help us try to offer some more concrete help.

When that feeling hits me—that regret over something I did or didn't do—I’m lucky enough that a part of me still says, "Who cares? This is my life. Who's actually looking at me?" I find a weird sort of comfort in my own insignificance. It’s such a powerful kind of freedom. If I don't judge myself, then nobody else can really judge me either. People are far too preoccupied with themselves to truly notice me, so they don't even see my stupid mistakes; it's just me seeing them. And I’m not going to throw the first stone, not even if I wanted to. You shouldn't either!

But that thing you mentioned—about when you're building something up, getting too carried away, and then the whole construct just collapses... man, I remember that so vividly. It hurts, more than anything. Well, it hurt more before the "flatline" phase. Now, I’ve reached a point where I appreciate that you can actually rise again, and I even value the fact that something can actually hurt me and make me feel something, since it's been nothing for a long time. So, let it collapse, whatever happens. The construct isn't really the point. Anything is better than a flatline.

Though, I guess it feels like the male psyche might be different, and that maybe you can't quite reach the bottom. When a person is incredibly patient and endures everything, there is no bottom.

So, if you could be just a tiny bit more specific about which behaviors you find unacceptable.
It might help if you found an activity involving kneading clay or touching soil, just to bleed off that negative charge. Maybe working with your hands, like gardening, or even walking barefoot if you have a dirt path nearby or something like that. But definitely something involving earth.

Hey, when you said, "I don't have to believe—I know!"—that is basically my life motto.🙂

The real sting comes from that first collapse, when the reality you thought was solid just dissolves. After that, you start building the next version just so you can get through the day. When that one eventually breaks, there isn't that same sense of lost, disoriented despair—just a bit of regular frustration. By then, you're approaching the next thing with a bit of an ironic distance, viewing it as a temporary setup. It lasts as long as it lasts.

The issue isn't really about ego; it's about becoming pathologically attached to it. And in the end, everything passes.

I suppose I should address this... though I suspect my perspective might be viewed as somewhat antiquated by the more spirited members of this forum—it’s a common enough critique, I suppose... There is an undeniable, if rather exhausting, weight to the way things are currently unfolding in the States. One watches the headlines, one observes the shifting tides of our institutions, and one can't help but feel a certain sense of weary inevitability—as if we are all just circling a drain that was greased decades ago... It isn't necessarily that things are "bad"—that's too simplistic a term—but rather that they have become predictably, almost tediously, complicated. I find myself looking at the current state of our civic discourse and wondering if anyone actually remembers how to hold a conversation without retreating into immediate, reflexive hostility... It’s a tiring spectacle, truly. We trade barbs like currency, yet somehow, we remain perpetually bankrupt of actual substance. It makes one wonder if the pursuit of progress was ever anything more than a polite fiction we maintained to keep the machinery running... But then again, perhaps that is simply the nature of the beast. We build, we break, and then we sit amidst the rubble, wondering why the dust won't settle... placidwolf27 says:
You’ve laid out the reality with perfect lucidity—I'll give you that—but you’ve veered quite sharply into blame and negativity... It makes me wonder, though—just how massive of a blunder was it really to get this wrong? I’m genuinely curious... If someone else you actually knew committed the exact same error, what would your honest assessment of their actions be back then?

Well, I’ve gone and done it—I’ve managed to screw myself over. Or rather, someone else played me for a fool, which effectively means I screwed myself... it's that kind of circular, self-inflicted disaster where you can't tell where the sabotage ends and my own stupidity begins. I almost hit rock bottom, though not quite—not that anyone would really care, given how insignificant my little catastrophes are in the grand scheme of things... but still, it is an absolute embarrassment. A total disgrace, through and through. Now, I'm just left sitting here with this mounting frustration, a creeping sense of depression, and the realization that I have to go back to square one... again.

I knew deep down I was being an absolute fool—just a complete, spineless pushover—but I simply couldn't face that reality... so instead, I played the part of someone who actually had it together. Naturally, the whole charade fell apart, and now? Now I’m left with absolutely nothing. Something like that...

nimblemoose2 said:I'm going through the exact same thing. I’m only 24, yet I feel like my time is running out already. I spend all my energy overanalyzing past mistakes instead of actually living in the moment.

Well, just be careful with that... it’s all too easy to become so preoccupied with avoiding any kind of friction that you end up inadvertently dodging life itself...

Yesterday stays etched into the psyche—it’s permanent, at least in the mind—because that information is already woven into the very fabric of our consciousness... whereas today is fleeting. Yesterday is always "now" in a sense; the brain is constantly trying to find its footing by referencing the past because today feels novel and disorienting, while tomorrow hasn't even arrived yet. We are perpetually processing yesterday because we have no other choice... and so, yesterday ends up consuming today, leaving nothing left for tomorrow...

One really ought to be constantly embracing the damn process—staying painfully, acutely aware of it in the present moment, and simply existing within it... otherwise, you aren't actually living. You’re just performing some sort of elaborate avoidance maneuver—a desperate little dance that can drag on for a month, a year, or even thirty years...

I am aware that fear provides the green light—it’s the catalyst... I know that hatred and rage serve as the primary compasses, while pleasure simply programs our behavioral patterns. Love? Love is nothing more than a mechanism for total compulsion. It is all quite clear to me—how these internal forces animate the organism like some sort of stop-motion puppet... that much, I know...

Everything eventually settles into a mechanism—though it’s not even like a set of gears working in unison... it’s more about the teeth, individual tooth by tooth, day by day. A sensation, a thought, a word, an action... situation after situation, one small notch at a time, and then the whole thing begins to turn. The machine runs—it simply cannot function any other way...

Joseph Bailey41 said:The real sting comes from that first collapse, when the reality you thought was solid just dissolves. After that, you start building the next version just so you can get through the day. When that one eventually breaks, there isn't that same sense of lost, disoriented despair—just a bit of regular frustration. By then, you're approaching the next thing with a bit of an ironic distance, viewing it as a temporary setup. It lasts as long as it lasts.

The issue isn't really about ego; it's about becoming pathologically attached to it. And in the end, everything passes.

Well, that’s the fundamental question, isn't it—how one actually goes about building something... what exactly is the foundation, the core structural point around which this whole endeavor revolves?