In contrast, dying but finding that an infinite universe will almost certainly build your atoms back up again in the same configuration in an endless cycle without you knowing… might be more plausible and therefore even scarier to me.

I don’t eat spaghetti that much, but when I do I cut that shit up 'till it’s macaroni. I’ve also used a spoon or just a fork and managed, but with a lot of sauce that’s less convenient to me.

She wanted to stay with me even without kids, but after the first days I saw her become an empty shell of a person. This was her meaning of life, apparently even more than we both thought. I could leave her, but that felt horrible as well.

Now we have a kid; the first few years were a personal nightmare for me because of mental health issues. Lack of sleep icw depression and what more makes parenting extra intense. I tried with all my might to not let it affect our child, I hope I managed to so far.

It’s a lot better now, the kid is great and I’m amazed how much love I feel, but I always feel guilty. For giving life (something that goes against my principles as I did not want to be born myself) and for not being able to 50/50 care because of the mental shit that makes me unable to. Aside from that the usual, missing my freedom, the continuous responsibility.

I would not do it again in a reset of my life, not because of the kid who I genuinely think is great, but due to my lack of mental health, which has the potential each and everyday to ruin it all for them (which is a compulsive intrusive thought in my mind). But I hang on, I try to.

With all the love and respect, I would not recommend anyone in my situation.