Ambition and Oblivion


Whenever I get excited about a little moment of clarity about something I’d love to do with my life, a place I’d love to go in my career, it’s followed shortly by a wish that I just ceased to exist at that moment. This is absolutely a reflex of a fear of failure – dream big, but die too early to be held responsible for not achieving those dreams. That fear of failure – as successful people will certainly tell you if you pay them enough money in front of a big enough crowd at a TED talk or some bullshit – is what will always impede me from succeeding. This makes me want to die even more.

This isn’t so much a suicidal thought. It’s not about killing myself. It’s not even really about dying. It’s about erasing my consciousness. Never existing would be just as good as dying – I won’t exist, why would I care – as would being in a coma. Vanishing would take too much work and I’d always have to keep a few steps ahead of the people who care about me and/or whom I owe money (which is nobody, but maybe people will lie and say I do because I won’t be around to defend myself). I don’t want pain and suffering, so I’ll pass on kidnapping, or any kind of violent death, really. Perhaps luckily, all of my brain problems will work together for a shutdown before I can feel anything.

There is so much about my goals that are beyond my control, and I could be laughed at for working so hard at the things I have the chance to do without being able to make the decisions that get me anywhere. I could be laughed at by people who got ahead of me for whatever reasons they had to their advantage. I could be laughed at by people who stayed where I’m stuck, but never tried to go any further because they decided complacency was easier to deal with.

Strong people don’t care about getting laughed at, but I’m not strong. Every time I get something wrong or say something stupid, it sticks with me for days, weeks, possibly even years even if it is the most insignificant thing that everybody else has forgotten. If I do get places people will tell stories about mistakes I made in the past, no matter how true they are or whether given proper context, to belittle me and my successes. I either stay little or be belittled.

This is why I just don’t want to exist.


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