does someone have to be before the world would be better off with out them?
I have five friends. I love them; I would do anything I could to make them happy. I feel this isn’t enough, however. My flawed personality and value isn’t worthy of these people – and they’re aware of it. They have to be. That’s how I feel, anyways.
After all, these are all great people. My friends are kind, funny, smart…
I am insecure, with my friends – I believe that because I am so flawed, I will eventually screw everything up, they will leave and never talk to me again. When they aren’t talking to me, I become frightened that this already occurred, and I simply wasn’t aware when or how.
I am also paranoid with my friends – I do not trust them. I believe that when they are actually talking to me, it’s out of pity, or boredom because one of their ‘real’ friends isn’t there perhaps. They tolerate me, but they don’t actually care. At the same time, I become so extremely happy to be with them at that time, that I’d prefer false tolerance and sympathy to nothing else, and for that short amount of time I feel being used is okay.
I have told my friends bits of this, that I easily feel abandoned or that I will be abandoned at some point. They assure me that this is not the case, and it comforts me for a short while…but then I realize they could be lying, and figure they probably are.
And I could ramble about my thinking process on this further, but in the end it just turns into one thing anyways.
It leads to depression, every day, through out the day. The moment I am not talking with one of these friends – especially if I realize they could be speaking with me, but are choosing not to for any reason – I figure I’ve done something wrong. And the more time I’m given to think about this, the less I want to be here. It seems like I’d be doing people a favor if I was simply gone. It would also save me the anxiety that comes multiple times every day.
When it leads down to suicide however, I’m a coward I guess. I don’t want pain, and I don’t want a mess. I just want to disappear.
A part of me hates sleeping, I avoid it as much as possible, because it feels to me like temporarily being dead – no thought, just silence and emptiness until you wake up. But when it comes to the idea dying, I love sleep. It is my current substitution for suicide, but I don’t know if it’s working as well anymore. I think about actually killing myself more often now, trying to think how I would do it, and whether or not I would leave a note to give some sort of explanation – I could try and tell people it was my choice, and not their fault, but then again, who am I to say they would feel responsible at all? After all, it’s selfish to think other people would actually worry about me.
I really hate how unworthy I am for these people.
I wish my friends would just admit they hate me, break contact, so I wouldn’t worry about it anymore. I’d simply know. And I think that would give a good enough reason to leave this place.