Am Ende kommt die Dekadenz, aber kommt der Vitalismus auch?

So this semester has been spiraling to become my own decadence. I have been reading about it for the past 6 months and now it seems like these books have been trying to point something out to me. My only question is if vitalism will also be happening some time very soon?

Why decadence? Because that's the best way to define how I have been feeling these past weeks (actually months) and how everything I have hoped for has turned out. The Zerfall of me seems to have taken place, slowly if not quick and hard. So... Decadence because I relate to the female characters that Arthur Schnitzler and Thomas Mann, even Theodor Storm and Gerhart Hauptmann to some extent, have depicted. Because had I been any of the women in Fräulein Else and Tristan, I would have done exactly what they did and their deaths are to me (in a pretty twisted way) beautiful. I can also imagine myself being a femme fragile during the Fin de siècle, on second thought: I probably was a femme fragile in my past life and still am in this life. No wonder why I am fascinated by Freud, Weininger and the philosophy and theory about hysteria and most intriguingly the Geschlechterdebatte. The (Zer)Fall der Frau never seems to bore me and the beauty of their deaths and their thoughts and hysteria are all pretty captivating. (This is probably giving you all the wrong image of me, I am not agreeing with men being the better sex or even the stronger sex, should that be an image you have of me now. I am just fascinated with the decadence and the fin de siècle.) My own feelings have been pretty dark and pessimistic lately, and very similar to the women described in the books I have read. My faith has seemed to wish the worst for me and all I feel is that I am slowly falling into my own modern decadence. Words can't quite describe how bad it all seems to have turned out right now, and frankly, I think everyone is better off not knowing.

Contributions to my decadence: The topic love. How one believes that a romance can regress to friendship, is completely impossible for me to understand. I have tried to understand, and even tried to put it in practice. Results are distressing and to no one's shock, very maddening. Ever heard of "meet me halfway"? Instead of being the only one trying to make an effort and trying to make it work out with respect for the other, without ripping up old wounds, both need to equally contribute to the phony friendship they are trying to maintain. Never ever try to be friends with an old flame - it won't work, at least not to both's benefit.
Another contribution to my decadence is education. As much as I thought I knew what I was doing, apparently I don't. I am basically drowning in a wide-open sea with the darkest tone of black as water. Let's call it (pure*) turpentine instead, because as transparent as turpentine is I apparently manage to fail and be blind to myself. I tend to always lose myself and get lost in the academic world - sometimes I wonder what I am even doing in it.
One of the least expected contributions is ice hockey. I have no idea why I am suddenly so obsessed with this sport and when Sweden didn't even qualify for the semi-finals my heart felt very heavy. What could ice hockey even substitute? In my life, I cannot find anything that could to the slightest bit be associated to ice hockey. Nevertheless, I have seriously considered becoming an ice hockey wife. Not that I am sure what it would require of me or what that lifestyle is like - I just know that ice hockey has been the only uplifting thing in my life this year. The one thing I have been looking forward to and that has nearly become my bible. However, (as I previously mentioned) the loss against the Czech Republic was a hard loss to accept. And how unexpected is it that Slovakia slid in on second place? I never really saw them coming.
One of the last contributions is funerals. I hate them, not that I think anybody loves them, but I cannot deal with loss. I do not know what to do, how to react, what to say... What I really can't deal with is acknowledging someone's death. Uttering the words, letting it slip out of my mouth to become reality is the hardest thing for me to do and accept. And I never react until it is time for the funeral, because that is the last evidence of death that is slapped across your face. I tend to pretend like death never happens, however, it's hard to pretend once you see a coffin and hear the sobs of family members. Although I wasn't close to my aunt's husband, he was still a part of our family tree. My sorrow was more for my aunt and a part of my disappointment for choosing not to attend the funeral, something I believe is one of my many mistakes in life.

Und wann kommt der Vitalismus? In literature and in Fin de siècle, vitalism came after the fall (in the books, the death of the women) in form of a new life, a new beginning (in the books, they were all in the form of babies). This semester is finally coming to an end. One week left with one exam and a presentation to go. I need to pull it off, one way or another. Then summer vacation begins, something I have been looking forward to very much. So hopefully this summer will act as my Vitalismus. I will be needing it badly.


*If turpentine isn't pure then it has a yellow-brownish color and a very characteristic smell to it. Therefor, I needed to distinguish which type of turpentine I was talking about.