By the Author / Source: abuaram.site
I suffer from a relentless sense of guilt whenever I try to distinguish right from wrong. A voice inside tells me that my recent actions have been misguided, and I feel a profound lack of support from those around me. I ask myself: What can I possibly offer to the world if it doesn’t stem from what brings me happiness? I am haunted by guilt for neglecting myself—but which self is that? And why do I act so wrongly?
Who is it that thinks this way? I act in this world according to my own nature and what I perceive to be right, without giving a second thought to any opinion that contradicts my path. As for those who oppose my principles and rules, I see them as backward in so many ways.
Perhaps feeling this way isn’t entirely bad; evaluating my actions might hold some value. Yet, nothing in this world truly matters. What truly counts is my sense of comfort and tranquility, and my ability to laugh and mock everything I interact with. Ultimately, this world is trivial and absurd, carrying no worth beyond the realm of inner peace.
At times, I find myself intoxicated, my mind operating in a way that, by the next morning, no longer feels entirely representative of who I am. I feel a desire to keep engaging with life—even while intoxicated at times—though I may fail to interact well then, weighed down by fatigue.
Nothing matters, for everything is fine. I am glad to experience this life in all its nuances, and I am grateful for all my experiences, believing that each carries a valuable lesson I deserve to reap. I am also glad to drink alcohol, and I will not stop, even on my deathbed. In the past, I navigated this harsh life while enduring severe schizophrenia, and things were terrible. Before that, I went through my experiences with far less awareness of myself and the world—overwhelmed by pain, barely able to function normally. But I am continuously improving.
I am currently receiving appropriate treatment, having taken my psychiatric medication regularly for nearly three months now. Although these medications aren’t a magical cure, they have alleviated much of my suffering.
I feel reasonably normal; I sleep well, free from any troubling anxiety. I feel calm and possess good focus for studying and thinking. I have freed myself significantly from the symptoms of the illness, realizing just how brutally difficult it was when I neglected or completely stopped my medication—especially given that so many details of my psychological and mental condition exist beyond the mere act of taking pills.
