Life, Death, and Psychiatry

I haven’t been on top of my EDM collection lately. I followed a deep house playlist on Spotify just now. I’ll be taking my favorites from that for my own. If I ever DJ (I won’t) I’ll download the songs from there de novo and use them to DJ.

I’ve been to some clubs, not that many were any good. But one in LA played some decent tracks/songs and I danced a little, had a few drinks. It was in college, with some friends, during the summer during the internship period. We were all on campus together, living in our separate dorms or rooms, working in labs or computer labs or whatever. Physics labs, biology lads, fieldwork. That sort of thing. Engineering. We had a bonfire a few times. It was a very warm and welcoming atmosphere. I haven’t felt that way in so long.

I miss having a normal life. There’s so much to get out of life. I hope I don’t die young and unfulfilled. That would be terrifying, and curse my family for the rest of their days. I don’t know what death is like. I feel like I would turn into a malicious vengeful spirit, for all the pain I’ve been through. Not targeted at anyone in particular, but maybe haunt this place or that. Take up an abandoned warehouse. I’m scared. I’m not scared of death, but I’m scared of dying. There are so many ways to die.

My brothers would never be the same, too. Alex in particular, the middle one, would be grievously depressed for a while, and never quite enjoy life ever again, except possibly on rare occasions. Even baby brother, Andre, who is light and cheerful, might take a serious blow. My friends would wonder what went wrong. I don’t wan to OD on anything. I don’t want the side effects from my medication to kill me. With schizo-spectrum diseases, it’s not the disease that kills you, it’s one of two things. It’s either the erratic behavior if you’re unmedicated, or side effects from the medications if you’re on a lot of them. I’m not on too many and the likelihood is very small. 1 in thousands, tens of thousands. That number’s a little to high for my comfort, to be honest, but even driving is dangerous. I don’t know what the likelihood of dying in a car crash is but it’s also too high for my comfort. I don’t like society. I don’t like life. I don’t like the risk of death in life.

I’m being morbid and obsessive. The solution, of course, is to be alive and find cheer and joy in everything you have, to be thankful for everything you have, every fucking day, starting immediately. I’m just in such a bad place. If I died now, in a sense, no one would ever forgive me.

I’m not suicidal, for what it’s worth. I know a girl my age who was suicidal since middle school. That’s the pre-teens, for those of you outside the country. She’s, somehow, survived all the agony and pain and is alive to this day. She has a boyfriend and a job, and does things in her free time. I don’t know if she still struggles with serious depression or not. It never really goes away, but you can find joy in the things in life.

This is all too deep for where I want to be right now. Too deep and serious. I’m scared, and I need some humor and levity on the scene. Sigh. What am I even doing. I don’t know how to end this post, either. There’s no fulfilling answer or solution. Only more questions.

I’ll talk about this to my therapist. Maybe he will have some answers. I can’t possibly talk about it with family. They wouldn’t understand. They would, but bringing it up would be hard. Mother would say get of your meds if you don’t want the risk of death. She doesn’t understand that a half-life is not a life. Psychotic. Brother would be cold and analytical and say something like the risk of death prematurely in modern society is one in millions. By the way it’s not a static number, it’s a number per unit time, would be the units for it. So, Hertz or Hz. Poisson distribution governs it. For the technically minded. I don’t meet enough technically minded people, even in biology. Like, the head of my previous department I could talk to, but everyone else there, the lowlies, just talked everyday stuff, what they’re eating for dinner, what they’re doing on the weekend, who’s getting married. People are so boring. Where is the science. Where is the engineering. That’s why I’ve recently subscribed to the ScienceDaily newsletter digest. To get my fill of what I love. Progress. But this is straying off topic and turning into a new one.

Finally, something of substance from this one, you might finally say. Well, yeah. Me too. I blather on here about nothing all the time. I am also diagnosed with anxiety, on top of everything. It’s a slew of problems.

I need to be happy and appreciative now, now, now, but I don’t know how, how, how. Lol, rhyme. Meditation may be a good start but I feel that it is very unlikely that I would be able to get my head to slow down. I just need to talk to my therapist. Our next appointment is in three weeks, after I start my job. Here I am worried about petty things like money and what I’m going to do for the day, and the concept of death slams me in the face. And then there’s cosmic transcendence, where even death doesn’t bother you. I am so small. I am such a small person. I am such a small person and I don’t want to be. What do I do?

I’ll talk to my therapist and go about my business. If one thing’s guaranteed or nearly guaranteed, it’s recovery. I can feel it within my grasp. I’m on the right medications, except maybe for the antipsychotic (causes restlessness), but we can taper it down if I find myself stable for a prolonged period of time. It’s good to be on just 4 mg risperdal today. I can already feel myself slowing down. Jesus fucking Christ. What a ride.

I guess that’s all I wanted to say.

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