#huggingtentacles lore

I've been saying this <- I haven't

My grand design is coming together

Fatherfucker

I am literally the greatest (videogame) player who ever walked this earth <- only like a little bit better than average

Ёбаный рот этого казино, блять

Maleniaaaaaaaa <- like that

Bonjour

Talk to me about my OCs

Deepthroat

(country) should go underwater. We need more ocean.

There is nothing about dying that doesn't suck. The process sucks no matter what, it hurts both physically and mentally, nobody has ever had a good time dying. I assume even people whose hearts failed from orgasming too much, had a brief "oh shit this sucks actually" moment.

It's terrifying, even in prospect. Even if I knew I'll live two hundred years, it would keep me up at night. It doesn't help that sometimes it feels like weeks pass in an instant.

I don't look forward to the relief of death, the only relief I'm looking for is boredom. I keep hearing how some people grow tired of living eventually, how some people are lucky enough to feel "ready" when they pass. To be very clear I think every single one of them is lying, to either save face or make their loved ones less worried. I think if I offered them to live a healthy life for a while longer, all of them would accept.

Paradoxically even though I've had those opinions for about three or four years now, I still feel suicidal from time to time. Those thoughts creep up on me when I least expect it, like today for example.

My depression has lost the war long ago but it's still refusing to sit down and negotiate surrender. And I can't exactly scoop out the part of my brain that has it. So it just sits there in a trench, occasionally coming out at night and setting my shit on fire. It is no longer a threat to my life like it used to be. More like an annoying pest that I can't quite get rid of. "Die" it whispers, trying to intimidate me the same way it did when I was 15. But now I just roll my eyes and take care of myself until it fucks off.

I can never predict when it shows up again. Mostly it's in the evening when I'm in bed. I get the urge to hurt myself like I used to, then it realises it hasn't worked for half a decade, so it resorts to just pestering me with suicidal thoughts. I sigh, roll my eyes and sit on my phone until I'm tired enough to sleep.

But sometimes it's not in bed. Sometimes it happens when I'm genuinely happy. Sometimes I talk to my dear friend and I just feel like cutting that happiness short.

Anticipating that joy fading away, I cut it off, for a reason I cannot explain.

Growing up my mother sometimes saw me or my sister having fun and she would come to remind us of our responsibilities that we forgot. But instead of doing it like a normal parent, she would say "Having too much fun? Have you forgotten what I told you to do?"

And then she would just stand there, stare at me, watching me try and remember what she had told me to do. And she would yell at me if I just said that I don't remember. And she would yell at me if I said nothing. She would yell at me if I cried. So I guess since standing there waiting for her to speak delayed the yelling the most, I resorted to that as my default.

But now, sometimes, when I feel really happy. I just go "Having too much fun?" at myself. But instead of responsibilities, I feel like dying.

When I was depressed I was seriously considering suicide, looking for options. One of the things that prevented it was the fact that all the options sucked: everything hurt and nothing was reliable. People live after falling off a plane, eating poison, even gunshot wounds to the head. I didn't want to risk surviving severely disabled, or even worse, surviving and regretting the attempt.

So around that transitional period between being suicidal and being only kinda depressed, I started playing a game of chicken with my brain: "alright let's kill ourselves, what are your options?" and I would start contemplating various methods until the desire to die wore off.

You know which method I landed the most on? Freezing to death. I almost froze to death (on accident) when I was 8. Half remembering what it was like, I settled on dying like that several times. You know what prevented me from doing that? The fucking global warming. The evening I almost died was the coldest day in my life and every time I settled on waiting for a particularly cold night to go out and give into hypothermia, it just wasn't ever cold enough. And another thing? Sometimes it actually helped me hold on. Because I sometimes would think "okay I'm dying this winter" and then I would wait months and it turns out my depression isn't bad enough that winter to definitively kill myself. So it passes, and I see spring, delaying my passing another year.

So. Right now I'm in a different predicament. Another desperate change of tactics from my sworn enemy, throwing a fit like a teenager, refusing to accept defeat. Now i feel like dying, but I don't want to commit suicide. I want to stop existing without the process. Drop dead at the command of my brain to shut itself down.

"How is that gonna work" I ask myself, "That's even more useless than all other tactics you've tried"

It tried telling me I was worthless and nobody loves me (provably false)

It tried telling me I'll never be happy (i can literally have a good day any time I want if I try)

It tried telling me it won't hurt anymore if I do it (while I can't argue with that, missing out on all the joy I could have made that calculation untenable.)

The new tactic is annoying. It's annoying because it's like being pointed at with a laser pointer from the bushes far away. An annoyance without a source. I can't grab the lazer pointer and by the time I reach the bushes, it's already ran away.

I'm trying to shut down this thought. Here are the things I've tried so far:

1. Writing this post

2. Snacks and tea