Enyan
Sad Catgirl
- May 19, 2026
- 117
Sorry, I just really, really need to vent.
It is so incredibly hard to let go of life if you love almost everything about it. Or would, if you weren't physically and cognitively debilitated now.
I suffer through every second of every day, I can leave my bed for a few minutes at max, and I'm in so much physical and mental pain. I really, really can't keep living like this, but the mental agony of leaving this life I used to love so much behind is probably the worst of it all. I think about death and how freeing it would be to be at peace, to not have pain anymore, but I also think of all the things I'll never get to do again.
I'll never feel the gentle breeze when going for a walk. I'll never get to feel the soft sand of a beach underneath my toes. I'll never sit on the grass watching birds fly by again. I'll never get to go to the city and have an iced coffee while sitting at a fountain again. I'll never watch fireworks again. I'll never eat at my favorite restaurant again. I'll never travel in an airplane again, holding my plush because flying makes me nervous.
And, worst of all, I'll never get to see my boyfriend again.
We've been together for almost eight years, long distance, traveling to see each other back and forth. We've been wanting to move in with each other multiple times already, but life circumstances kept kicking our asses. Waiting to finally be with each other permanently for eight years was... hard, but we always said it was so worth it to be with each other in the end. We talked for 6+h every single day of those eight years, never had a big fight, neither on- nor offline. Mom always said we're the most wholesome couple she'd ever seen. Nothing but supportive, interested in each other's hobbies, on the same wavelength, open to talk about any issues maturely if something wasn't quite right.
Ever since I was a little girl, I've always wanted to get married. Now I'll never get to do it. The worst thing is... if I just hadn't found the right partner then, sure, okay, it'd be sad. But it's not even remotely as soul-crushing as finding your one in a million person, waiting for them for eight years and then having to give it all up.
I'll never get to hold his hand again. He made me feel so safe, like nothing bad could ever happen to me. We'll never get to see Paris and Japan together, like we wanted to. We'll never get to watch fireworks together. Just go out and watch a movie together again. I'll die, he'll grieve a lot, but in the end another person gets to live the life with him I so desperately wanted. Not that I wouldn't want him to be happy after my death! But it hurts so much, it feels like I'm gonna die from grief alone.
When I thought about dying before, I found solace in the thought of being reborn as someone prettier, less awkward, more talented, more ambitious. Getting closer and closer to death, the thought just hurts me. I don't want to be anybody else, I want to be me. I want to live as myself. With all my flaws and my kinda weird looking face, with all my quirks, as the bird-loving, artistic person I am. But I can't.
I don't understand why this happened to me. My childhood and adolescence was incredibly hard, I've suffered enough in my life already. And I persevered. Every single time. Just to lose it all now.
I'm not sure if I should be happy I didn't kill myself as a teen, back when I was really depressed and going through traumatic stuff. On one hand I'm happy I get to experience love like this. I really didn't think it existed, I always thought a relationship HAD to feel at least somewhat negative, you couldn't just feel... good with someone all the time. But on the other hand it makes everything now hurt so much more. It's easier to die if you despise life. It's so much harder if you love it but can't keep living.
I guess that's that. Thanks for reading. I just really had to get that off my chest.
It is so incredibly hard to let go of life if you love almost everything about it. Or would, if you weren't physically and cognitively debilitated now.
I suffer through every second of every day, I can leave my bed for a few minutes at max, and I'm in so much physical and mental pain. I really, really can't keep living like this, but the mental agony of leaving this life I used to love so much behind is probably the worst of it all. I think about death and how freeing it would be to be at peace, to not have pain anymore, but I also think of all the things I'll never get to do again.
I'll never feel the gentle breeze when going for a walk. I'll never get to feel the soft sand of a beach underneath my toes. I'll never sit on the grass watching birds fly by again. I'll never get to go to the city and have an iced coffee while sitting at a fountain again. I'll never watch fireworks again. I'll never eat at my favorite restaurant again. I'll never travel in an airplane again, holding my plush because flying makes me nervous.
And, worst of all, I'll never get to see my boyfriend again.
We've been together for almost eight years, long distance, traveling to see each other back and forth. We've been wanting to move in with each other multiple times already, but life circumstances kept kicking our asses. Waiting to finally be with each other permanently for eight years was... hard, but we always said it was so worth it to be with each other in the end. We talked for 6+h every single day of those eight years, never had a big fight, neither on- nor offline. Mom always said we're the most wholesome couple she'd ever seen. Nothing but supportive, interested in each other's hobbies, on the same wavelength, open to talk about any issues maturely if something wasn't quite right.
Ever since I was a little girl, I've always wanted to get married. Now I'll never get to do it. The worst thing is... if I just hadn't found the right partner then, sure, okay, it'd be sad. But it's not even remotely as soul-crushing as finding your one in a million person, waiting for them for eight years and then having to give it all up.
I'll never get to hold his hand again. He made me feel so safe, like nothing bad could ever happen to me. We'll never get to see Paris and Japan together, like we wanted to. We'll never get to watch fireworks together. Just go out and watch a movie together again. I'll die, he'll grieve a lot, but in the end another person gets to live the life with him I so desperately wanted. Not that I wouldn't want him to be happy after my death! But it hurts so much, it feels like I'm gonna die from grief alone.
When I thought about dying before, I found solace in the thought of being reborn as someone prettier, less awkward, more talented, more ambitious. Getting closer and closer to death, the thought just hurts me. I don't want to be anybody else, I want to be me. I want to live as myself. With all my flaws and my kinda weird looking face, with all my quirks, as the bird-loving, artistic person I am. But I can't.
I don't understand why this happened to me. My childhood and adolescence was incredibly hard, I've suffered enough in my life already. And I persevered. Every single time. Just to lose it all now.
I'm not sure if I should be happy I didn't kill myself as a teen, back when I was really depressed and going through traumatic stuff. On one hand I'm happy I get to experience love like this. I really didn't think it existed, I always thought a relationship HAD to feel at least somewhat negative, you couldn't just feel... good with someone all the time. But on the other hand it makes everything now hurt so much more. It's easier to die if you despise life. It's so much harder if you love it but can't keep living.
I guess that's that. Thanks for reading. I just really had to get that off my chest.
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