30/10/2022 – Sometime at night.

I’m still alive.

A slow realization.

Over the past few months, I realized something that probably should have been glaringly obvious.

I really couldn’t stand university.

There’s a lot of reasons for that. And to be honest, I’ve screamed about it to everyone I know enough times that putting it into writing again feels like beating a dead horse. I have my reasons, and I know they are valid. At least, to me.

But man, it didn’t really sink in how much I couldn’t stand it until I got out. For the past four years I took it for granted that I would just want to kill myself every day. Well, not every-single-day every day but, y’know. You get what I mean. I didn’t think too much of it that for… a few months straight? I had to actively suppress the urge to beat at my own head with my fists. Or with a stick. Or into a wall.

More than a few times I actually did just end up slamming away at my skull. Pretty hard. As hard as I could really bring myself to swing at my own head with my fists. I’m still sort of afraid that I hurt myself a bit permanently. I hear hitting your own head really hard isn’t good for you. I definitely noticed that nowadays I end up drooling on my sleeve a lot more than I used to. And sometimes words just don’t come out of my mouth. Well, I could just be stupid. I probably am just stupid, I don’t think I’m strong enough to give myself brain damage.

Towards the end, I thought it got better for me. But I don’t think it actually did. I just got better at pretending.

As an aside, I’m quite happy that I got better at pretending. I always thought I couldn’t. I guess I can, kind of. If I really really have to. But I would rather not.

I… haven’t wanted to hurt anything for months now. Not myself, anyway. Sure, I’ve had the usual bouts of depression and not wanting to do anything, but not cave-my-skull-in insanity.

God, I can’t even really express how good that feels. I still feel all the things that I did before. Rage I cannot describe. Annoyance at the world in general. Despair at what the future will hold. But I don’t want to kill myself anymore. I don’t want to hit my head against the nearest solid object because nothing that I’m being forced to do makes any goddamn sense. I no longer am bound to studies that do not make sense to work towards a sheet of paper I do not care about. I am, in relative terms, at peace.

It feels good.