Can I say something without you thinking I want to die?
Sometimes the thought, “I can’t wait to die,” crosses my mind. Not because I want to die now, or because I hate my life, or because I’m miserable. It’s more that I feel like nothing is ever going to be enough. At least when I die, I can’t do any more. I just cease to exist. And I know it sounds sad and depressing, but it doesn’t feel that way to me.
I just feel like I’ll never live up to all the expectations my brain is constantly making for me. I ran a marathon on Sunday, and all I can think about now is, What’s next? What’s the next big thing I’ll put myself through to feel something? An Ironman? A triathlon? A doctorate? I don’t know, but I wish my brain would just chill.
And I know my brain isn’t helping, and maybe I should just learn to be fulfilled with where I’m at. I’ve read plenty about how living a good life means being content with where you are now. And, honestly, if I died today, I would be content with everything I’ve done. I’ve lived a great life, with many accomplishments and plenty of hard work.
But I don’t get to die today, so I have so much more potential to fulfill.
I know I sound crazy, and none of this will probably make sense to anyone, but sometimes I just wish I were dead. Then all the effort, striving, and constant need to improve would finally be over.
But I probably just need therapy.