The dynamic, in which one drifts forward, has something magnetic about it. In between, someone is busy solving acute problems. I admit, that I solve one acute problem after the next, but never- and maybe because of that- never my chronic problem. I solved an acute problem, I feel, as I go back in this one direction (forward) drift. And this, in case I notice it, all in all: is then probably the excuse for it, that I never kill myself at the right time.
So maybe I would have to look seriously for it, that I am finally out of this area “of the acute” come out, so that I can see my chronic problem undisturbed and calmly. But I think or fear somehow, that the chronic problem has become a habit for me. And that I am about it, out of this chronification, can not act, on the contrary: have become incapacitated. Unfortunately I think so, that the desire to commit suicide absolutely needs a mood, ein Mileu, a coincidence of several events, which break up the chronicle of the familiar / everyday.
Das stärkste jener aussetgewöhnlichen Ereignisse, that I experienced in my life, was scared. No acute fear, like an acute pain (or an acute problem), but an inner pressure, which made feeling / perceiving my physical existence a torture every minute, comparable to a “Starting shot” to the hundred meter run. Just, that this “Starting shot” was a fictional one, came from nowhere. The hundred meter run, independent, independent and non-causal to any event, took place in my own body. The brain, this rattle, pipe, Clap, drove the body- target—- also a forward! Also a direction: the opposite direction: collapse!!!
Since I was physically discarded, I have this external, Never experienced fear of competition that lasted for weeks. This pressure, The climax of the senselessly absurd, who almost forced me several times, to run out of it, seems to no longer be able to sit at the top of my consciousness. I do not know either, Why. Maybe, because the battle is lost?
In these exceptional states it was no longer possible for me, from the “Acute” find out and fill in all the small spaces by distraction. So I was caught and forced into the disaster, to solve the threat of suicide.
Back then (3once it was) I didn't want that, in fact: because overall physical life was still more bearable than my idea of death. And that was exactly a thought again, That drove me crazy!
Today I don't remember, like me 2001 from the “Closed” from Marbach found out. It can only have been like that: that I- because you got me there with mine “Jackhammer of existential fear” couldn't help, just went home one day. Along with the disaster, that raged inside me, there must have been a place in it, in the one moment of the bearable, the permanent fear replaced. It must have been like that; that a moment, in which it was possible for me, to distract me from the unbearable state, made another such moment possible, etc.. In between I fell thundering, but somehow I grew stronger from this experience, that these moments still exist, they don't “acute” are. Sometime (so after about 8 Months) I was over the mountain. This was the chronic acute state!!!!
I am now- in the phase of chronification and outside the acute years- no longer in emotional pressure mode. But in the emotional tear mode. (However, crying gives me permanent high blood pressure, because that's the way it is, that producing sadness / despair / pain in the form of tears / sobs physically “over the edge” must slosh. Otherwise you can't cry or get rid of the salt water!
To get rid of this salt water, shortly before: an enormous pressure is brewing in my skull. ME-typically it doesn't resolve after that “acute event” of crying up, on the contrary, it becomes even stronger, remains squatting for several hours to days. (hyperadrenergic POTS?!)
No grief or despair has this power for me, with the fear of me, back then, to act.
The grief over it, that I've been abandoned, that I surrender to my pain. So, as if I really wanted to stay longer (to excess) surrender.
The grief over it, that my body is gone, is incurably gone, is a chronic perception of the imperfect, Fate gave way. I am completely caught up in this state; he has nothing out of the ordinary any more. The need, in which I screamed, the last time I sat at my desk, and noticed, that my middle is nervous and muscular (?) forever “fell asleep” (2016) has poured out. The hours, who ate me lying down, are not “real” Not, but somehow ordinary.
From the acute life of the life pressure, of anger and psychological presumption, chronic life became one almost “normal” physical sick. (It's a shame or a coincidence, that this disease is one as well “unrecognized” Reputation, like me. But at least: she has a!)
We live like that: we remove obstacles from the way. We keep drifting in that one direction, magnetic. We have an encounter with the unpleasant; we take a look at it, a few seconds; already we want to be driven on again, away from it. This is: as if we were walking through a huge steam bath, a life long! Until we drop dead.
We subdue ourselves (almost to death)! We have to do this! It happens to us, we are like cows without horns: the acute problems are our way the goal at the same time. Without it we would be lost.
But I want to be slowly without it.
(6.4.21)