I understand the title is ominous, but it’s nonetheless accurate. There is an ailment which will cut my life short, though its nature is not intuitive. I have no cancer nor anything like that, yet its something tied to my biology: my brain.

I’ve been severely neurodivergent all my life but I’ve been horribly neglected and abused. Neglected by my mother who provided me food and shelter but not even the slightest emotional support. Sexually abused by my grandmother who had a kick crossdressing me as a girl. Didn’t help that, for a guy, I was as short as Penguiz0 and never could form a relationship with a girl due to the trauma associated with the abuse.

I have an extremely tuned cognitive empathy, so I can detect people’s intent and emotional needs like a sect leader, but I’m also extremely autistic so I have this unbreakable moral code that, no matter how much grief it causes me, I can’t seem to depart. My configuration is strange because I can be extremely street smart on certain things and a total dork simultaneously.

Anyhow, that particular configuration allowed me to make it to 34 despite having absolutely no guidance from any adult whatsoever. My mother is a neglectful alcoholic who never gave a shit about my emotional or psychological needs, even if as a little kid I would go totally psycho and bash my head against walls or furniture over temper tantrums or whatever. Guess when your whole family is psycho and the adults are incompetent fucks nobody can tell a mental fuckfest even if the red flags are pretty much on the face.

Because of my cognitive empathy I was extremely good a masking my shortcomings and damage, though not even I realized the cost. For the most part of my life I’ve been in a dark place but since darkness is everything I ever knew I couldn’t tell. But I believed in the light and I tried my best to embrace noble ideals despite having no reason nor incentive to, and I did so at my own expense.

But one can only last so long until everything crumbles. For the last five years I’ve struggled to function in society and the last two I’ve been completely incapable. I have extreme bursts of anger and I begin to harbor very dark thought about what to do about the people that surround me, but I also still fight to the ideals I embraced and I am willing to cut my life short in my own terms, preserve my integrity and give a final fuck you to a world that has done everything it could to see me become a monster.

I’m losing the plot but I haven’t given up, so I will take my time, pursue a few goals I still have, and put a noose around my neck once I am content. You see, I don’t want to spend my last few moments weeping a feeling sad: I want to feel realized and tie whatever loose ends I can before logging off.

I’m not sure how lemmy deals with this kind of talk but I don’t really give a shit to be honest. We’re told we’re sick but the cannibal pedos who run government and corporations are “inspirational”. I’m a villain, “sick” for wanting not to waste my time with a system and a species who’s actively promoting perversion as virtue. I made up my mind about it, and I will defend the sovereignty of deciding when my life ends. But in the meantime I will keep moving forward with whatever little interests I have left. Feel free to tag along and thank you for reading (assuming I ever write a follow up).