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I live far from the beach, but take any time off I can going to the beach. Lately, I’ve wished I could go to the beach and just dissolve into the beach and just stay there forever in a semi-conscious state. I want this deeply. The beach is all I can think about when I’m not at the beach.
I live far from the beach, but take any time off I can going to the beach. Lately, I’ve wished I could go to the beach and just dissolve into the beach and just stay there forever in a semi-conscious state. I want this deeply. The beach is all I can think about when I’m not at the beach.
Any good solutions to this?
I'd suggest that is isn't about the beach. That's just geography. I suspect there are major aspects of your life you don't want to face. You have created numerous threads about this beach bum life you want, but there's also a lot of complaining about having to work or put more than the bare minimum effort in order to get there. Daydreaming about becoming beach sand is daydreaming about doing nothing, having no responsibility for anything, drifting with no effort. Solution? Realize once and for all that there's a means to an end. No one's going to hand it to you other than yourself. Get started with little achievable goals and work up.
Easy. Just pick the nearest beach, bury yourself with only you head sticking out of the sand and just wait. Sooner or later you'll be in a semi-conscious state. Just make sure you have food and water within mouth's reach. Should work out well.
I'd suggest that is isn't about the beach. That's just geography. I suspect there are major aspects of your life you don't want to face. You have created numerous threads about this beach bum life you want, but there's also a lot of complaining about having to work or put more than the bare minimum effort in order to get there. Daydreaming about becoming beach sand is daydreaming about doing nothing, having no responsibility for anything, drifting with no effort. Solution? Realize once and for all that there's a means to an end. No one's going to hand it to you other than yourself. Get started with little achievable goals and work up.
I had a big bilateral eye surgery last summer to not go blind I’ve been in debt for, and my akc registered poodle got pregnant with another akc registered poodle, and I was going to be able to sell the litter for the remaining balance of my debt plus a nice profit of around 2000 dollars. They made it to week 3 without incident. Last night, though, I sleep walked and I know this because I had a pile of laundry I planned to do today, and it was washed and in the dryer this morning. I hadn’t sleep walked in years and thought I was over it. Well, I was keeping the mother dog in there and I stepped all over her pups and killed them and I’ve been grieving today over that, especially since I was thinking about keeping one of the puppies. What scares me is I bet my dog was screaming, but I never woke up. I had stains on my socks from walking on them. Its not even about losing the money at this point, as I feel like I broke my dog’s heart and I feel guilty for not waking up.
I started this topic to think about something else. I will say, though, once the puppies were sold, I planned to start taking swim classes at the YMCA and applying lanolin to my fat folds to prevent chafing so I could get healthier, and I was going to start saving for my masters degree since just having a masters degree entitles me to a 300 a month pay raise and I found a cheap 10-month masters vaguely related to my job for only 7,000 dollars that would be sufficient for a raise. So in only a week or two, I was going to start some major life projects, but I stepped on my opportunity to get out of debt early, so I am looking at at least another 6 months of living pay check to pay check.
I’m aware the beach is a diversion, but it gives me something trivial to look forward to besides just growing old and dying. I’ve outlived my family, and the few friends I made after escaping my childhood cult died tragically at young ages. I don’t know about the friends I had before my mother and I escaped the cult, but they are told by the cult leader not to interact with people who have left the cult, so they aren’t really friends anyway. I lost my father in an accident when I was 4, so when my mother and I escaped, she found a man to take us in. This man had anger issues and he’d beat us every night, so I’d fantasize about finding work so my mother and I could escape him. I enrolled in a high school, got really good grades, was labeled “academically gifted”, and got a full ride scholarship. During my last year of college, I used my two unused electives my senior year to do two free trade school programs: a pharmacy tech program and a certified nursing assistant program. I did a series of pharmacy jobs, retail jobs, nursing jobs, fast food jobs, and odd jobs, and no matter how hard I tried to do well at those jobs, I’d lose the jobs. I was always accused of being too slow and absent-minded, and no matter what I did to mitigate that, it was never good enough. Besides that, the pay and hours were never good enough for me to move out from my step-father who beat my mother and I all the time. I changed majors a few times trying to find the right fit, but seeing my full-ride scholarship was about to run out, I declared my major as general studies to go ahead and graduate. I lost my mother and grandmother, but I graduated with honors and used a company called iteach to become a teacher. By now, years of bad experiences working jaded me and I expected my teaching job to be just as arduous and unfulfilling as my other jobs had been, but I was wrong: it ended up being a better experience. I still feel like I’d rather be retired so I would be able to go find myself, but my supervisor at the school finds my work satisfactory, and I feel simply mildly disaffected with this job (mostly from having a few bratty kids and having to slog through work despite being depressed) instead of the dread and hatred I normally feel for work.
I’ve tried treating the depression for years, doing exactly as my doctors and therapists have said, but its never gotten any better, regardless of what advice or medicines I’ve tried. In fact, the added financial burden of paying for tests and therapy and pricey medications was making the depression worse, so I accepted I’ll always be depressed regardless of what I do or anybody else does. Letting my poodles breed was going to be something to look forward to, and they had beautiful puppies, but I had to sleepwalk on them.
My emptiness stems from a philosophy paper I had to do in college that highlighted how life has no meaning, and everything everybody does or will not matter in the long run due to entropy. Also, we all die alone and free will is an illusion. These things trouble me. It also troubles me that I’ve outlived everybody I’ll ever be close to, and I’m past the age for making new friends. I feel like I have nothing to look forward to. I thus distract myself with pleasant inanities like beaches and food and dogs when I’m not working because it pushes out thoughts of suicide. One day I’ll retire, and immersing myself in beach culture may very well be the thing that keeps me alive.
I had a big bilateral eye surgery last summer to not go blind I’ve been in debt for, and my akc registered poodle got pregnant with another akc registered poodle, and I was going to be able to sell the litter for the remaining balance of my debt plus a nice profit of around 2000 dollars. They made it to week 3 without incident. Last night, though, I sleep walked and I know this because I had a pile of laundry I planned to do today, and it was washed and in the dryer this morning. I hadn’t sleep walked in years and thought I was over it. Well, I was keeping the mother dog in there and I stepped all over her pups and killed them and I’ve been grieving today over that, especially since I was thinking about keeping one of the puppies. What scares me is I bet my dog was screaming, but I never woke up. I had stains on my socks from walking on them. Its not even about losing the money at this point, as I feel like I broke my dog’s heart and I feel guilty for not waking up.
I started this topic to think about something else. I will say, though, once the puppies were sold, I planned to start taking swim classes at the YMCA and applying lanolin to my fat folds to prevent chafing so I could get healthier, and I was going to start saving for my masters degree since just having a masters degree entitles me to a 300 a month pay raise and I found a cheap 10-month masters vaguely related to my job for only 7,000 dollars that would be sufficient for a raise. So in only a week or two, I was going to start some major life projects, but I stepped on my opportunity to get out of debt early, so I am looking at at least another 6 months of living pay check to pay check.
I’m aware the beach is a diversion, but it gives me something trivial to look forward to besides just growing old and dying. I’ve outlived my family, and the few friends I made after escaping my childhood cult died tragically at young ages. I don’t know about the friends I had before my mother and I escaped the cult, but they are told by the cult leader not to interact with people who have left the cult, so they aren’t really friends anyway. I lost my father in an accident when I was 4, so when my mother and I escaped, she found a man to take us in. This man had anger issues and he’d beat us every night, so I’d fantasize about finding work so my mother and I could escape him. I enrolled in a high school, got really good grades, was labeled “academically gifted”, and got a full ride scholarship. During my last year of college, I used my two unused electives my senior year to do two free trade school programs: a pharmacy tech program and a certified nursing assistant program. I did a series of pharmacy jobs, retail jobs, nursing jobs, fast food jobs, and odd jobs, and no matter how hard I tried to do well at those jobs, I’d lose the jobs. I was always accused of being too slow and absent-minded, and no matter what I did to mitigate that, it was never good enough. Besides that, the pay and hours were never good enough for me to move out from my step-father who beat my mother and I all the time. I changed majors a few times trying to find the right fit, but seeing my full-ride scholarship was about to run out, I declared my major as general studies to go ahead and graduate. I lost my mother and grandmother, but I graduated with honors and used a company called iteach to become a teacher. By now, years of bad experiences working jaded me and I expected my teaching job to be just as arduous and unfulfilling as my other jobs had been, but I was wrong: it ended up being a better experience. I still feel like I’d rather be retired so I would be able to go find myself, but my supervisor at the school finds my work satisfactory, and I feel simply mildly disaffected with this job (mostly from having a few bratty kids and having to slog through work despite being depressed) instead of the dread and hatred I normally feel for work.
I’ve tried treating the depression for years, doing exactly as my doctors and therapists have said, but its never gotten any better, regardless of what advice or medicines I’ve tried. In fact, the added financial burden of paying for tests and therapy and pricey medications was making the depression worse, so I accepted I’ll always be depressed regardless of what I do or anybody else does. Letting my poodles breed was going to be something to look forward to, and they had beautiful puppies, but I had to sleepwalk on them.
My emptiness stems from a philosophy paper I had to do in college that highlighted how life has no meaning, and everything everybody does or will not matter in the long run due to entropy. Also, we all die alone and free will is an illusion. These things trouble me. It also troubles me that I’ve outlived everybody I’ll ever be close to, and I’m past the age for making new friends. I feel like I have nothing to look forward to. I thus distract myself with pleasant inanities like beaches and food and dogs when I’m not working because it pushes out thoughts of suicide. One day I’ll retire, and immersing myself in beach culture may very well be the thing that keeps me alive.
I don’t know if you are in therapy but if not you need to be, or a combo of therapy and meds. Please get some help for yourself.
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