Current struggle I am facing

I'm 18 years old. Lately I have been overanalyzing my existence to the point where I have realized I am simply an intelligent animal who is able to contemplate his own thoughts. I try to tell some people this and they think I'm a nut case.

Sometimes I think if life is even worth living. How did I even get here? Why was I brought into a world full of such hate and violence? Would that really be hard to get over considering you'll be dead someday too and none of us will remember this?

Those are deep questions; I believe you may be facing an existential turning point. Many people struggle with "why am I here" and "who am I". It's good to talk these kind of questions over, to mull them over or to journal about them.

I will add that families of suicide victims do not get over their grief easily. Losing a loved one to suicide is a terrible thing.

Hello Skbaggage21: Welcome to PsychCentral... from the Skeezyks! May you find the time you spend here to be of benefit.
(The Skeezyks shares your perspective... )

I don't want to sound rude, but... welcome to your first existential crisis. I had my first at 12. Not everyone has them and (without trying to sound self-absorbed) it's been my observation that only the brighter and more introspective people experience them. You're not over-analyzing at all... you're just trying to find how you fit into a world that is far from being able to be understood.

You're questioning values and existence. Maybe even considering what it means not to "be." That's implicit in questioning the worthiness of life. You're asking questions that are universal and some theologians and fewer philosophers claim to know the answers. Wikipedia, if I recall, has a good article under "existential crisis."

I've gone from observant Roman Catholic to theist to nihilist within two years so my answer to your questions would be "no" and "nothing." It was far more comforting to believe in something rather than nothing, to believe that life has a purpose, etc., but it was also dishonest and, at my old age, I just couldn't help but come clean.

It's a ridiculously trite and overly pompous phrase used by arrogant blowhards, and a phrase that I think is, wrongly, often appropriated by the Ayn Rand crowd, but I watched Kenneth Branaugh's Hamletagain last year and I think that I would have Polonius' "This above all: to thine own self be true" tattooed on the chest of every newborn. I don't believe that it's a phrase that should be appropriated by individualists, although it has, and I don't believe that it means to think of 'self' "above all" or, for that matter, to really be"above all." Most people drop the "this above all" when using the quotation.

The Beach Boys sang it best:

Be true to your school,
Just like you would to your girl.

Or guy. Whatever floats your boat

Yep. That sums up the meaning of life pretty well.

[QUOTE=Skbaggage21;4985075]I'm 18 years old. Lately I have been overanalyzing my existence to the point where I have realized I am simply an intelligent animal who is able to contemplate his own thoughts. I try to tell some people this and they think I'm a nut case.

Buddhism tells all what you want to know.

I've spent my life in an existential crisis and I'm 53 years old. These past few years have been really rough. One thing I will say is that in my experience, an intense existential crisis that sticks and just keeps swirling around can be symptomatic of a depressive disorder.

I can't imagine a lifetime. I remember those first couple of episodes, but I've been deeply religious for the majority of my life and I know that for most of that time confession was my form of therapy.

This, though. This is confusing. I can't stay in the same place for more than 15 minutes. There are things that I've been experiencing that can only be explained by admitting the possibility of the supernatural. I had to present a thesis to graduate from high school and mine was on belief and unbelief so, naturally, I used the quotation from Mark, "Lord, I believe! Help my unbelief!" It was all so self-righteous and pretentious and it embarrasses me when I think that it's still available.

Now. Now I realize – big surprise – that it's just as self-righteous and pretentious to reject the supernatural. I'm sometimes back at the death and taxes place, then I'm with my parents and I feel so very good that I'm certain that they are as real as anything. I have a physical sensation when they're here but I've been in and out of belief for two reasons. The first reason is because they don't touch me. I don't have many real memories of my mother but my dad and I were always physically affectionate and I've thought that my mother would have been the same. That's not a great argument, really, because it's very possible that they simply exist in a different way.

The second reason that I find myself in crisis is because they don't visit as often. I've gone for days when they were always here. I didn't need to count every gray hair on my father's head – I didn't feel any need to look up and make sure that they were here. I spoke, they spoke. One would get up from the foot of my bed to get a bottle of water and I felt and heard the movement on the mattress. I didn't need to contact them, they always know what I'm feeling.

My memory is so bad and I can't remember how many days it's been since they were here. But I have a very vivid memory of that last visit. Long and boring but the most memorable thing is that I noticed that my dad needed a shave.

I wrote this earlier. I had a passing, fearful thought that they might be punishing me with their absence. But my father would never, never do that to me. So now I think that I'm doing something to keep them away. Non-belief. Doubt. Nihilism that I've struggled with.

I am so, so sorry to know that you've never escaped. I've been so sappy and mawkish for maybe a week. This is an overgrown wilderness with no path. A place that I've never been and that I can't understand. I HATE not being able to understand. I HATE MYSELF for being too stupid to make sense out of what"says happening. I want to be able to complete my goodbye letters without having sniveling breakdowns. I want to feel strong or nothing. I'm collapsing inward, a dying star, because all that I can think of is how happy I felt to love. I can't stop crying looking at the word. My father, the four women and my son. The engine and caboose, I thought, were the great destroyers and it's only been this time that I've realized that it's not hating them that makes me sad, but the happiness and love that causes the astounding grief. I can deal with sadness – maybe that's how you feel? I can't deal with, can't cope with, remembering the love.

I lie and say none were unique, that everyone feels the same, that the love that I felt for my first is the same that I felt for the last but that's lying. But I hope that I can feel that lie again.

This is my epiphany.

I'm so confused. I can't understand this. I'm cold and sweating. I think that it's time for me to stay away, too, Laura Beth. I've been here for three days and it feels like I'm only able to suck up others pain and sadness.

When you used the word "lifetime" – I look at that word and cry. I'm gone.

Themail exsistential crisis you refereally to has been going on for some time. I believe most of it stems from the fact I gave up religion a few months ago, and it has certainly affected me. My parents believe that it's only a phase and I will return to Christianity. Looking back, I can't see why I believed all that time. I do struggle with depression and anxiety. Perhaps that magnifies the issue in my head..... thank you for your input

[QUOTE=ciderguy;4988017 Now. Now I realize – big surprise – that it's just as self-righteous and pretentious to reject the supernatural. I'm sometimes back at the death and taxes place, then I'm with my parents and I feel so very good that I'm certain that they are as real as anything. I have a physical sensation when they're here but I've been in and out of belief for two reasons. The first reason is because they don't touch me. I don't have many real memories of my mother but my dad and I were always physically affectionate and I've thought that my mother would have been the same. That's not a great argument, really, because it's very possible that they simply exist in a different way.

What do you mean it's "self-righteous" and "pretentious" to reject the supernatural? The reason I ask is because when I decided to renounce religion, many people told me that I will burn in hell. I see no evidence for belief in anything supernatural (currently). Christians seem to think they are so above me intellectually, which really bothers me.

Do you currently feel safe? Is there someone you can reach out to right now for help?

Life can provide more answers than questions sometimes. This can be difficult to process.

Do you have anybody close in life who you REALLY trust to share these thoughts with? I mean, besides the people who invalidate you. Perhaps a therapist? Going from one belief system to another can be especially traumatizing for a person. You have some big questions and I think you need support right away. I know it might be hard to accept right now, but I feel confident you will gain a new perspective once you talk it over with a professional.

I am sorry you are distressed and I hope you find clarity quickly.

Who's stopping you?

You see, actually, you do get to decide.

to thine own self be true is also what i say. it may be hard to even know yourself, but we are sometimes on a journey to find our true selves.

having nothing but the intellect to rely upon can be very hazardous to your health, as i found out when i lost mine.

i would seriously recommend meditation instead of intellectual contemplation... disengage from this nihilism, lest it disengage you~

[QUOTE=Skbaggage21;4988227][QUOTE=ciderguy;4988017 Now. Now I realize – big surprise – that it's just as self-righteous and pretentious to reject the supernatural. I'm sometimes back at the death and taxes place, then I'm with my parents and I feel so very good that I'm certain that they are as real as anything. I have a physical sensation when they're here but I've been in and out of belief for two reasons. The first reason is because they don't touch me. I don't have many real memories of my mother but my dad and I were always physically affectionate and I've thought that my mother would have been the same. That's not a great argument, really, because it's very possible that they simply exist in a different way.

What do you mean it's "self-righteous" and "pretentious" to reject the supernatural? The reason I ask is because when I decided to renounce religion, many people told me that I will burn in hell. I see no evidence for belief in anything supernatural (currently). Christians seem to think they are so above me intellectually, which really bothers me.[/QUOTE]

It hurts when I come here, but I can't stay away.

I find both extremes pretentious. It's trite to say it, but we've no way of proving either. Richard Dawkins is a joke for his rabid attempts to prove the non-existence of a deity. And the religious extremists are just as bad.

It's just impossible to "know" – that's part of, usually the stasis – of the crisis.

You're experiencing the self-righteousness of one group. It can really be annoying. I've been all over the place just in the past year, never to Dawkins' extreme, but feeling an intellectual superiority to atheists? Yeah.

Over the past year, I've had some experiences that I can only understand if I concede that they are supernatural. I know that I have mental issues, depression, anxiety and social phobias, and I know that I've had hallucinations, but in the past 3 months or so, I've rejected the idea that I'm delusional. I don't know of any instances, personally, of those who are delusional being able to question the delusion(s) and find another possible explanation. I'm guessing that there's nothing unique to being misdiagnosed.

My depression has been overwhelming lately. Yesterday was very bad. Today has been better. I'm not certain why you chose a psych board to ask your question – there's nothing at all wrong with your mind. You're asking normal and very healthy questions. If you thought that you had the answers to those questions, THEN I'd suggest seeing a therapist.

Nihilism? Where?

Those are good, healthy questions. It's a very good thing to engage your intellect from time to time, for goodness sake. I'm far more suspicious of those with one-word answers for every question. Meditate rather than think? Really? Do you honestly believe that answers the questions common to an 18 year old?

That's insulting him/her.

Your answer fits perfectly with the "you're going to hell" responses that he/she is getting. Instead of telling him that he'll lose his soul if he doesn't stop thinking, you're telling him that he'll lose his health.

Life is a hell of a lot more complex when you don't have all the answers, I'll agree. But I've only recently realized what made the first 31-39 years bearable, no, happy and full of joy.Giving the gift of self to others and hoping, but not expecting, that it will be reciprocated.

It's corny, even mawkish, but loving and being loved – in all manner of shapes and size; if you're looking for a single answer, I'll tell you everything I've learned: love.

My world is pure and strange.

I've found not questioning life is the best option to live it. Those who spend their time trying to understand it, will miss living it. I was like this. Now I try not to think about it very much. We cannot fathom why we are here, and for what purpose. If you're religious then maybe you can be convinced of what your religion tells you.

I agree, this thinking may be associated with depression, as depressed people see reality depressing, the so called depressive reality.

Even though we cannot understand why we are here, still we have a strong instinct to live.

One of the reasons that I've descended into hell again was my attempt to "not think about it." Instead of going through grief, I hid it away and the result is this evermore putrifying existence.

I'm pretty angry and hostile at the moment. I don't wish for anyone to end up like me – I didn't question the possible consequences of my actions and instead of questioning how to deal with those consequences I chose not to think about them and now I'm a mass of grief and guilt and can't think of a way to get from my bedroom to my kitchen for water.

Take of the blinders. Hide from reality and you may lose it.

What a sincere, kind person you must be to be having these feelings. In my opinion, the true difference between animals and people is their ability to express love. Have you ever had a pet? No matter what you say, do, or how you act your pet loves you unconditionally and always forgives, always. Most people are incapable for some reason to express unconditional love and overlook your short comings and the mistakes you make, which are of course only human.
You have a reason to exist - You really do. Try not to over analyize it. Try to only concentrate on the things you enjoy and in those things you will find your true purpose. Count on It!!!

I'm an idiot who didn't start getting this way until around age 19. Then it was just a roller coaster of caring and not caring, thinking and not thinking though now the memory of it kicks in almost daily at some point, always right at the point where I'm about to start taking action at last. I'll be 22 in a couple months.

I'm experiencing the exact same things as you, wondering what the point is, how to cope with the ugliness of reality (my default method is to simply reject it and hide away in fiction. I'm infinitely happier in fiction), and above all, how to live.

It's unbearably painful, and it's hard. It's empty and confusing. Any avenue seems fraught with emotional danger - wrongness, failure,

Uh, hi. As someone who writes and thinks way too much about the same problems as OP, and is way too dumb to find an answer when seemingly everyone else has...this effing nailed it. It's all about worth: my worth, the worth of my actions, of life, of anything.

Though really: being brutal is easy? I guess if it's aimed at a particular person, but in general...I find it almost impossible.

Also about purpose: it sure seems like almost everyone can find one. That's what troubles me, what am I doing wrong that I'm so paralyzed like this, so empty and miserable, that thought and shame arrest every attempt at action? Everyone else can just get on with things, why can't I (and OP, if you're reading this, maybe you feel the same way)?

However, what I think Wandering Soul and others are trying to get at is a balance between thinking and living. Just acting without thought ends badly, results in regret or even harm, like you pointed out. But thinking that never leads to action is frustrating, depressing, boring, empty and miserable. Or at least my experience of it is.

Habentes igitur talem spem multa fiducia utimu (I wish).

I can’t see that there’s any mandated age for asking the big questions. It’s not as if you must be “this tall” to board the ride. Although I suppose that I would be wary of anyone over 30 responding with a blank stare or a jingle if the subject arose. Well, really, more afraid than wary of the jingle. The roller coaster is a good metaphor. It’s a good metaphor to use in describing some mental health issues. But 3 years? 19-22? Aren’t you feeling a wee bit nauseous by now? Can you explain what you mean by taking action? Jumping off the ride, maybe? Only after coming to a full stop, I hope.

Whew! I don’t usually feel so beaten before beginning my running commentaries. In this case, beaten to the punch because I feel that I am those adjectives: I am ugly, I am pain, I am confusion, I am empty, I am danger and I am failure. Going further than feeling into becoming my fears. And, at this moment, I feel stupid. You’ve expressed the same. It’s a right horror show to think, after almost six decades, that you were wise enough to feel worthy of life but too damned stupid and selfish to act in accordance with that feeling. Hypocritical, but something more evil than that.

I’m not sure why, but just recently I’ve been reading messages written by younger people – 13-25, maybe – and the numbers that write of such great pain continues to confound me. I don’t know anyone your age. I don’t really know anyone under 50. I feel as if we need a contemporary Marshall McLuhan to explain this vastly more complex global village. I’d really like to blame the pain on media, but I’m not sure if that’s a knee-jerk reaction to something that I’m unable to understand or if there’s a jot of truth there. I completely reject the idea that there’s any danger in “too much thinking” but even though I don’t recall when I first heard of “information overload,” that critique of the late 20th century to present has a feeling of ‘rightness.’ A correct critique.

On November 22, 1963, two days after my birthday, I was laying on my stomach watching television when I heard the news. Our maid came in from the kitchen and when his death was announced she collapsed in tears. I had seen that before, 6 months earlier, when my mother was killed. I’ve never been able to describe, because I don’t know myself, the feelings that I had that day. I stopped. At 5 years old, I stopped. (I’m not sure if bringing up all this crap is good or bad, healthy or not.) Anyway… my dad told me, much later, that I had become a little hysterical, that Betty had called him at work and that he had called Dr. Doggett, our family doc, who came to the house and gave me an injection and left pills for Betty and me. I don’t have any other memories of that time. I remember Christmas but I don’t know if I have a real memory of the day or if my memory comes from the 8mm film that my dad shot and that I watched over and over. Sometimes I tell my shrinks about it and sometimes I don’t. I don’t like to think about it and I know that the single time that a shrink used the word “traumatic” after I talked of it that I had an episode. I’m guessing that I can write of it now because I feel so close to the edge of sanity that acknowledging another time that “something happened but I don’t know what” isn’t anything that matters any longer. But the real reason that I wrote about this is as an example of how a minimum medium intrusion can cause problems for a young person. How do you, at 22, filter the content? You say that you escape into fiction. I can understand that. But it’s only a medium hop, isn’t it? Have you considered ways of escaping media?

I’m considering a leap into the banal. I’m thinking, remembering 22. Okay, last year of undergrad. I didn’t put much effort into college. In May I got my BA,scl, and then off to Europe, establishing a base in London (where I would later return to and live). Banality warning. I had surrendered my crisis in high school, overloaded with theology and philosophy. At 22 my priorities were girls, sex and toying with love. Very much like Stephen Hawking at Oxford! Seriously, though; girls, sex, toying with love and learning how to most effectively utilize public transport in Europe. Bicycling. Reading. Shopping. Catching the tail end of punk. Canoeing. Byron. Running and walking. Living the Girl Scout song in re friendship. Museums. Eating God knows what because everyone else was having it; my first Spotted **** just because I wanted to write and say, “Had my first Spotted **** the other day; delicious!” as much as possible. Didn’t do drugs or drink much. Usually made it to mass every Sunday. Oh. In the UK – Chuck and Di engagement tea towels.

I’m sure that I’ve missed some things. But I think that if you survey my priorities, you’ll see how teaching astrophysics was my logical career. Over 10 years of experience with the Big Bang. Theory?

Sorry about that. Sometimes this crap devolves into giggles and I can’t stop laughing. This is the third time in a month. I’m sure that it’s symptomatic of something. I don’t know what. You might expect a “just kidding” but you’ll be waiting on Chunky Monkey in Hades before you hear me lie. I don’t want to imply that I had stopped considering the big questions, or that I escaped an existential crisis every month; I had my Catholic faith with my private and personal magisterium but, more importantly, I didn’t care at that point. I still had that insatiable curiosity – that may be important, but I’m not certain of that.

I certainly did not have any belief that I had any special or specific purpose. I’m delighted that you understand worth v. purpose. But, no, the idea of being able to find a “purpose” (look up the exact meaning, it’s usually the first, ‘created for,’ ‘exists for’) is like masturbating in order to have a child. In fact, the latter may be more realistic. Maybe more like going fairy hunting. But worth – that’s where value and values come into your life. You’ve named a few instances; you can go crazy with examples. You can also go crazy when you realize that you devalued the worthiest. That is a part of my shame, my guilt, my sadness; it’s the sword that disembowels me, the sword that I was surprised to see in my own hands.

I couldn’t find any reference to brutality anywhere? Did I write that being brutal was easy? I would need to see it in context… Oh. That message has mysteriously disappeared. That proves my psychic powers – I predicted that the message would be deleted. So I saved the text. I thought that I had been careful in making sure that I didn’t violate the terms of use. I’ll need to read them again. Maybe I just violated the ‘spirit’ of the Care Bears.

Alright, in context:

Yes. It’s very easy to be brutal when you don’t care. The most difficult part is being able to convince yourself that you don’t care. I’ve spoken of the four women that I loved in my lifetime. The one that I was referring to is the one that I call “the woman that I should have married.” If my messages aren't being deleted willy-nilly or as soon as posted, you should find references to how I treated her. You choose to love, you choose to marry. You make value based judgements. I’m not going into, again, what I did but I acknowledge, now, that I made the wrong choice of who to marry. In making my decision I – I acted against my values. The transition from loving to not caring couldn’t have taken more than 30 minutes. I lied, of course. I loved her. I loved my fiancé. I told both how much more I loved them than the other. That wasn't true. There was no “much more.” The one that I should have married was kinder and we were far more compatible physically. The one that I married was brighter but far less physically compatible. It was Hobson’s choice and, had I acted in accordance to my values, I probably should have called everything to a halt and spent a week or two at the monastery and mulled the decision over with friends.

That’s my worst example. There are maybe a dozen more, not always devaluing someone I loved but, maybe worse, devaluing any innate worth that a human might possess. If you had known me, even known me well, you’d have never thought that I could be a monster. I didn’t raise my voice, didn’t feel… didn’t feel anything, I guess. Not until I began verbally abusing my wife. Something that I could do in a crowd without raising an eyebrow. I don’t know why I was shocked when she said “divorce.” Let’s move on.

Here's a riddle: I believe that you’re over-thinking thinking. You’re separating thought and action. Maybe you have the statue of ‘The Thinker’ in mind; cold, dark and immobile, believing that thought, or thought about weighty matters, requires stillness, maybe solitude. That’s not the case. Ask someone to pick the greatest genius of the 20th century and indubitably Einstein will come to mind. I don’t remember the title of the book, but a book was written chronicling the journey of Einstein’s posthumous (thank God!) brain. It was expected that it would be physically and chemically different than average. And it was. But the findings didn’t lack critics and the most damning, from what I’ve read, have been from critics who’ve proved that each rain is different than another, that each is unique. One thing that I always found fascinating is that Einstein said that he thought visually. I use a language, a kind of English shorthand. I envy people who think visually. I can’t do it.

There's just no separating thought and action. One of my favorite sports, for example, was solo whitewater canoeing. Maybe you would believe that very little thought would be required to float down a river in a boat. And if you took to the water believing that you would likely leave the river in a body bag. You have to research each new river. If accessible you walk the river. If there are maps, you study the maps. If the flow depends on scheduled water releases, you research what to expect and when. Each river has a unique language and you have to know how to read a river before paddling away.

Whitewater canoeing is full of action, thrills and excitement but it also requires planning and razor sharp thinking to stay alive. And since the thought needs be of a mortal nature, I think that it’s fair to assume that there are similar regions of the brain used in thinking of life and death in the abstract and thinking of how to keep living and avoid death. To end, I don’t see either/or or even “balance” between thought and action. You can certainly get naked and sit still on a rock with your chin resting on your fist to think. It would be foolish to attempt a solo sail around the world having no navigation skills.

I’m so stupid. I didn’t need to write all of that. You’re confusing thought (thinking) with contemplation. It’s that simple.

I’m an idiot. Sorry.

Well be must be grateful for this life ,sometimes we get bad situations but this are part of the life and make us to progress and to become more powerful