There is nothing. Being is not real. I do not exist. Nor do you and nothing can ever be known about anything ever so any kind of speculation or philosophizing is useless.

So I have moved into a cabin in the woods tthat was passed down to me by my grandfather located in northern Maine. I am completely isolated. I spend my days staring at the wall, being blank-minded, waiting for my death. I will not kill myself because I fear this illusionary being will continue or become something much worse for eternity. I know nothing and do not feel I have discovered anything profound. What I discovered was pure misery and self-hatred.

I am a 25 year old female (ugly as fuck so calm down) with a history of depression, anxiety, suicide attempt by overdosing on pills, severe depersonalization and derealization. I also am dealing with severe insomnia and diphenhyramine addiction, overdosing every night.

My brother and aunt have schizophrenia, but I was never diagnosed with it.

I am torn between getting help and accepting my existence or just staying here to die.

Am I being irrational? Am I doing too much? Can someone yell at me and bring me back to reality? I'm losing my mind. I am desperate. Its been years and every day I stray further and further from reality.