Less than 1000 hours

The closer the time comes, the more I am at peace with myself. Despite the fact that I’m still tormented by mental hell, the fact that I know it will be coming to a close precisely enough to keep me calm; in the anticipation sense, anyway. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since my last public deterioration caused by nothing but thoughts.

My psychiatrist suspects that the muscle flinches I have are psychogenic non-epileptic events. These are non-epileptic seizures which replicate the physical and visual features of a seizure, but with no abnormal brain activity according. I don’t disagree, as symptoms align; being triggered with mental states is also a hallmark factor for PNEEs. In the beginning of the year, I have had an EEG done. This test failed to show any irregularities, further supporting this.
When handling items, my hands jerk, which catches people by surprise (and me as well, since I have no idea when a thought is going to jump into my head, ergo, when my limbs will jerk). In the past 24 hours, during a single work shift, I broke down twice while thinking about certain people. For the record, since that post was made, there have been two other persons of interest who are not described in that post. These people are who I’m referencing in this scenario.
When I recovered and went back to my job, I continued to flinch, and it was taking multiple customers by surprise. With what already happened in the context, it certainly did not contribute to my mental state that I was unable to anticipate and attempt to cull my own muscles from jerking while handling their products, making me feel powerless and reckless on top of everything else.

Here, I mentioned how it’s impossible to reasonably appear in public. At the current moment, everything I’ve feared is now playing out. In addition to the PNEEs, I tend to hit or choke myself, which is pathetic to attempt to explain when it happens in public, as I don’t even fully know if it is a conscious movement on my end. It doesn’t feel like it, and self-abusive motions would be odd to occur involuntarily. And if a person notices the action, it makes me only want to disappear. I don’t want to be expected to have to provide a self-summary of every catalyst behind my actions whenever one of these attacks occur.

As such, I’ve recently posted to people I know in person that I now lack the mental capacity to mirror conversational atmospheres / “vibes”, and probably going to not appear as approachable as I sense this deterioration.

Everything is playing out exactly how I knew it would, even after I’ve sought external help. My experience of living in the past few years can only be accurately described as stifling and suffocative. I have made many efforts to improve my scenario. These efforts do not remove or placate the issue. These attempts to cull them is only like putting a fire-smothering blanket on a forest fire. As years go by, I recognise that a number of these issues can only be pacified and not conquered. There’s people who think that their clichéd life lessons justify spending a lifetime in hell. No, I am not interested in proving my “strength” to please you or “being a wiser person” after this.

I’m doing this as a form of self-care.

In or around the month of July, I started a hourly countdown to the day I intend to take my life. I have already the day, in my head. It is less than a thousand hours from the time this post is being written.

There are two factors that are able to change this day. One is if I’m able to physically move from myself to another state. I feel as if that can soothe the mental pain dramatically, despite knowing that I’ll carry a large amount of it regardless. The other is remaining private, even for here.

In 2019, I gave myself the entirety of 2020 to determine whether staying around is worth it. It wasn’t, and I regretted not going through with it back then. At the end of 2020, the same self-reflection occurred. Every time I used my device, I would see this countdown, and ask myself if anything improved and if my situation is any better. You can probably guess the answer.
I wasn’t intending to survive into this current year. Specific opportunities arose which gave me the chance to enhance the lives of myself and the people around me, and for the most part, these have been fulfilled. Those opportunities delayed this form of self-injury. I am satisfied that I have been able to provide to people who need it. Material things and fulfilling personal projects and goals have also pacified these desires to put a bullet through my skull. But they didn’t remove it.

Most of the positive memories I have are also corrupted by negative events with them. And the noted events aren’t exaggerated, and I’ve made sure of that. They’re equally as intense as the positive association, and often for good reason. I won’t be able to go into detail for any of these, as I can’t so much as think about them without going down into a mental hell and facing panic attacks.

I’m looking forward to this day. And I can only hope other people will be happy for me.
I don’t want my body incinerated. I am not an organ donor.
I’d just like my body preserved, intact, for the longest duration possible.

Despite terrible memories breaking me at times, the only thing I’ll regret is the fact that many of the better memories will be lost to time and irrecoverable. When a person dies, you’re irreversibly losing a lifetime of information. Like crushing a hard disk drive, or burning a journal. This is why I tried to do what I could with the wiki site meant to document everything I know. But this soon proved to be an excessively large task that would be impossible to complete within a year. Inline within those efforts, I’m okay with losing my body for the rest of time, but I don’t want to lose myself. I don’t want to be gone with no chance of returning to experience the future that I’ve been anticipating ever since I was a toddler. I value, somewhat, my abilities and knowledge. If I could enter a coma for the next 2-5 years, even if my body decayed into a weak mass of bones and organs, I would take it immediately. Please trust me, I’ve already done so and had to relearn how to walk. Those experiences in and shortly after the hospital, after losing my mind in almost every medical sense aside from brain death, in and of itself houses nearly half of the memories that I can’t escape. But I’d at least get a break.

It’s unfortunate, but over continuing to live as I have been, this is my only option.
I severely apologise to the people I’ve helped mentally, and those who broke out of their shell with me, the people who consider and have mentioned me as their “one good friend”. I want to mention my family as well, but those thought processes are inaccessible in the same manner of the ones about “specific people” up above, so I similarly enter mental hell as soon as I dive any deeper.

I just really, truly need to die, and there is no escaping that fact. Even coming face to face with death in 2018 wasn’t enough; it needs to be done.