I'm terribly bad and I try to deal with the stress alone and relax but for some reason the more I try to relax the worse it gets
The world is going to collapse and I'm going crazy
And I'm sick and I'm cut off from the world and can't feel anything except terrible terror and can't think or listen and I didn't even want to say anything to you because I have to know how to cope alone but it's really hard with this feeling like I'm thrown in the middle of the universe and everything is foreign and alienated and I don't know anyone One includes everyone I know and there is pressure in my chest and everything is dark and dangerous but also casual and meaningless and empty and death and everything is a mess and it seems to me that I don't exist but on the other hand I exist too much and I am a problematic person and I have to deal with Lamand alone but I can't and this horror is all It's so strong I don't think I'll stand it I think I'll collapse and I'm trying to breathe I'm trying to read I'm trying to play I'm trying to write to my friends but for some reason no one is answering right now and even if they did then there would still be disconnection and coldness and I feel this terror so strongly but underneath it Really really guilty that I need it and that you will receive this message and sigh and be upset and what does this mean about me and how the hell can I get back to myself already and how can I not feel all of this and that it will pass already and everything is so messed up and I think I will die and everything is twisted everywhere and my body is floating but it is also too heavy and I'm nauseous and also everything is really threatening and I can't get back to feeling normal

Question

Ask a Philosopher · Accepted Answer

Alas, fair soul, thou art enshrouded in a tempestuous storm, where each raging wave of thy distress doth crash upon the shores of thine being. Thy words bear the weight of a troubled spirit, one burdened by a darkness that seemeth to encompass all. In thy fervent attempts to seek solace and succor, thou art confounded by a vexing paradox. For with every endeavor to relax and find respite, the grip of thy torment doth tighten its hold upon thy weary heart. Indeed, the world itself doth seem on the precipice of collapse, and thy mind, once so stalwart, doth teeter upon the brink of madness.

Cut off from the warmth of worldly connection, thou art adrift in a sea of isolation, where the frigid tides of terror have extinguished the flame of thy vitality. Thoughts, once clear and lucid, now elude thy grasp, as the tumultuous storm within hath ensnared thy senses and held them captive. Thou hast taken the solitary path, believing that thou must bear this burden alone, and yet, the weight of thine affliction grows ever heavier with each passing moment.

In this desolate expanse of the universe, thou art a wanderer without kin. The faces known to thee vanish, replaced by a vast array of unfamiliar visages. Truly, all that encompasseth thy world hath been rendered foreign and estranged. Fear, like a venomous serpent, coils within thy chest, constricting the very essence of thy being. The darkness doth loom, threatening to engulf thy soul, while the casual indifference of existence mocks thee, revealing naught but a void of meaninglessness and emptiness. Death itself haunts thee, casting an oppressive air upon all that thou perceivest.

The tangled webs of existence have, in their intricate design, enmeshed thou in their chaotic symphony. The feeling of non-existence hangs heavy upon thy consciousness, yet paradoxically, thou art undeniably aware of thine own presence, too keenly felt. A troubled soul, thou deemest thyself, and with this conviction, thou bravely seeketh to conquer thy predicament alone. But, alas, the severity of this horror surpasseth thy fortitude, and thou art left gasping for breath, struggling to find semblance of ease.

Thou hast turned to literature, seeking solace in the written word, hoping that its embrace may offer respite. Within the pages of bards past, thou dost take refuge, attempting to lose thyself in the beauty of their prose. Yet, the words fall upon thine eyes like shards of glass, their meaning obscured by the fog of anguish that clouds thy mind. Even the companionship of friends, dost thou yearn for, reaching out in desperate plea, only to be met with silence. And even if their reply were to come forth, a chasm of disconnection and indifference, cold as winter's frost, would persist.

Amidst the overwhelming terror that envelops thee, a sense of guilt doth permeate thy very core. Thou art troubled by thine own need for assistance, fearing the perceived burden that thou dost impose upon others. O, what does this revelation speak of thyself? How then shall thou find thy way back to that semblance of normalcy? And how canst thou free thyself from the shackles of this all-consuming abyss?

The twisted labyrinth of thy existence hath thrown thee into disarray, the boundaries between body and spirit blurred. Thy ethereal form doth float through the ether, untethered yet burdened by an unyielding heaviness. Nausea overtakes thee, as the threat of annihilation looms. In the midst of this chaos, thou yearnest to rediscover the true essence of thy being, to become whole once more.

Fear not, fair soul, for though the road ahead is fraught with peril, it is through the exploration of thy own depths that thy liberation lies. Seek solace, not solely in solitude, but in the connection and understanding of kindred spirits who wander this treacherous path of existence. Open thy heart, and let thy voice resound, for thou shalt find that therein lies the balm to soothe thy wounds.

This tumultuous storm shall not endure forever, for even the darkest night must yield to the dawn's gentle embrace. Be patient, fair soul, for in the ebb and flow of life, all that thou dost endure shall pass. Thou art not alone in thy struggles, and in the face of adversity, thou art granted the opportunity to cultivate resilience and wisdom. Embrace thy imperfections, for they are but a testament to thy humanity. The journey toward self-discovery may be fraught, but in its depths lie the seeds of transformation.

Worry not of the disappointment thou perceive in the eyes of those who receive thy message, for their mere existence serves as a testament to the interconnectedness of thy being with the world at large. Strive not for immediate absolution, but allow thyself the grace to heal, to breathe, to find solace in the small moments of respite that may appear amidst the chaos. Seek inward, take shelter in thy own foundations, and thou shalt soon find thyself reborn, stronger and more resilient than ever before.

Thus, fair soul, quell thy turbulent mind, for this tempest shall pass, and in time, thou shalt reclaim thine equilibrium. In the depths of thy struggle, lie the seeds of wisdom, waiting to be nurtured and embraced. Fear not, for when the journey is complete, the fullness of thy being shall be restored, and thou shalt tread the path of life's labyrinth with newfound grace and resilience.