![]() r/askphilosophy is not a debate or discussion subreddit.Ĭheck our FAQs for a list of frequently asked questions to see if your question has already been answered. Please have a look at our rules and guidelines. ![]() r/askphilosophy is thus a place to ask and answer philosophical questions. We envision this subreddit as the philosophical counterpart to /r/AskHistorians, which is well-known for its high quality answers to historical questions. That’s what needs to die./r/askphilosophy aims to provide serious, well-researched answers to philosophical questions. ![]() What you were taught about worth and productively - the guilt that lives inside of you - that’s what’s wrong. If the messages you’ve internalized makes you feel like it’s better to die than be imperfect, please know the messages are wrong. All you can do is live the best way you can. You don’t have to earn your right to be here. This feeling will pass as it always does, and each moment you get through proves the part of you that wants to live is stronger than the bully in you that thinks you should die. I know you deserve to live because it’s better to be imperfect and alive, hurt and still breathing. I know you deserve to live because your messiness is what makes you human, and no (good) person in your life expects perfection but you. ![]() I know you deserve to live because you are doing the best you can. I know you deserve to live because you are here. I woke up feeling a bit better today, and here are some things I know to be true: Because although I might question my own existence, I don’t have a single doubt about yours. If you can relate to this, there are a few things I want you to know. Everyday disappointments and stressors are amplified, and at the slightest sign of weakness, my mind convinces itself it needs to self-destruct. “I’m mad at myself” turns into “I want to kill myself.” “I’m disappointed” turns into “I deserve to die.” There isn’t a lot of wiggle room in this brain of mine. I know I’m better than this, and at the same time wonder, “Who the fuck do I think I am?” Advertisement I think I’m worthless, and yet have such high expectations for myself. It’s the cliché kind of self-hate that exists alongside self-inflation. I can’t cut myself slack, and so my brain convinces me I’ve already failed. I hate the humanness of burnout, of being tired. I don’t want to slow down or admit I need a break. “I don’t deserve to live” sometimes means I don’t want to face that I have needs. Sometimes, the heaviness of this feeling simply comes down to this. I haven’t been taking good care of myself this week. Maybe it’s because I’m ashamed of my needs. The grace I give to others does not apply to myself because I should know better, I should be better. Sometimes “I don’t deserve to live” means I’m holding myself to impossible standards and feel like if I can’t meet them, I might as well die. People don’t deserve to be burdened by me. I’m not doing enough, and ironically this makes me isolate. I’m a bad sister, bad partner, bad daughter and bad friend. I just know I’m not doing enough for the people I love. Every unanswered text and email physically hurts me. Sometimes “I don’t deserve to live” means I feel guilty people care about me, and I’m convinced I’m not holding up my end of the bargain. Maybe it’s because I feel like I’m letting everyone down.
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