I know better than to use a search engine to clarify my mental state, but of course I did. I don’t believe that my condition is dire, but I am a bit concerned. At risk of oversharing, I am putting forth an analysis of my current state. This is not to extort sympathy, or solicit advice, but hopefully evoke a sense of solidarity.
Let me say up front that this is all on me. I own it. Neither you, nor anyone else who knows me, nor any institution, is responsible for my lack of will to do actions necessary to make myself feel better, and/or engage in acts to counter what is happening in our society at large. It is unclear to me, in fact, whether this is a permanent change to my character, or a period of dormancy before I become an ally and agitator again.
According to that search engine that begins with the letter “G,” I may have “passive suicidal ideation.” It is true that some days, or even fleeting moments on an otherwise “good” day, I experience the sentiment of not wanting to live, but not wanting to die, either. I am not, however, having thoughts of self-harm. I simply do not desire to exist, and I can tell you exactly why.
The major reason for my malaise is that I am tired of seeing other people, other species, and the planet itself, suffer at the hands of powerful, cruel, and ignorant human beings. I am utterly fatigued by what I am witnessing. I am also paralyzed with fear that my assets, or even my identity, will be seized at some point, leaving myself and my partner in poverty, prison, or worse. I am normally rather generous and charitable. No more. Not since personal data has been compromised.
Furthermore, advances in technology have eroded my motivation to create, to educate, and advocate. My work is but a drop of genuine humanity in a sea of AI imposters. I still have plenty to say, but no impetus or energy to put it on paper or online. Everything has ground to a halt.
While I consider myself an introvert, I am now bordering on being a recluse. I rarely go out in public, and almost never engage with strangers. I am living in a town where I have zero interest in getting to know anyone else. This is ironic, because I recall that when I moved to Tucson, Arizona at the beginning of the 2000s, it became obvious to me that most people there, while friendly enough, already had their circle of friends, and were not interested in expanding it. I now think this is the norm for any town that is essentially a retirement community.
I vowed to never be one of those people who would shut themselves off from new relationships, but I understand now. You can only trust the friends you already have. Mine live nowhere near me. I have close friends all over the world, some of whom I know only through social media and/or who are colleagues in entomology and natural history. It is painful to know I may never meet them, or see them again.
Physically, I have lost nearly ten pounds in the last two or three months, and I have not been trying. I do not think I am eating less, to any obvious degree, anyway. I try to walk regularly, but the weather has been rainy and, when dry, quite windy. Seasonal allergies to grass pollen make outdoor activities a miserable prospect currently. There are really no truly wild places anywhere within walking distance of our house, anyway.
The distrust I have for other people now unfortunately extends to therapists, psychologists, and others who could “help” me out of my funk. I am not even sure if my health plan covers that anyway, or what the copay would be. On the bright side, I no longer drink alcohol (last time was October 7, 2024), and have never used drugs. Still too much caffeine, perhaps, and sugar and fats, but those are still sources of happiness, along with sleep, blissful sleep. I live for those pleasures, my partner, and the Facebook reels of Taylor Tomlinson and Elle Cordova. That’s about it.
Hey, I didn’t promise I would have answers on how to cope. Rest assured, if I do find a way out, I will share that, too. Please be safe, friends.
