-----------------------------------------------------InfoFemale - 20At 8:43am Saturday, January 12th 2013 was the first real moment I actually seriously contemplated suicide.
To anyone who might be worried about my well being, I assure you that I will never and that I’m fine. In fact, therein lies the problem. I’m doing too fine. There’s something wrong here.
Maybe there’s a more accurate medical definition to describe what I’m going through. Perhaps a German word. They’ve got really good words for psychological things.
Everything is going right for me. I’ve got a job in a field that I love, I’ve recently got a brand new spankin’ phone which was the last thing I really wanted. I’ve got six guitars. I’ve got a bitchin’ musical studio that is worth over $5,000. I’m artistically directing and sound designing a video game that’s going amazingly so far.
Everything is… perfect.
Yet everything feels too empty. Saccharine.
The closest thing that I would describe it as would be a variant on the Paris Syndrome. This is life. This is my life. It’s perfect. But maybe I don’t want perfection. Maybe I’m not mature enough to handle this life yet, but I’ve been thrusted through the education system (I’m a senior in college going into a new major of Digital Media) to get this far and yet I’m not overwhelmed by the result yet.
I’ve spent all this time to get to this point, but it’s not what I expected.
Everything started going downhill since an attempt was made on my life at the age of 16.
Everything since then has been overwhelmingly good in the long run. And because of that fact, nothing has felt real.
I’m now 17 going on 18 and nearly ready to take my place as a cog in the world’s giant machine, but I just can’t handle it right now.
Everything is perfect.
Maybe I don’t want it to be.
