Tired of living

I’m 22, I live with my parents, which makes me feel not very free. My father was a verbal-violent alcoholic before, thou he never hit a fly, and he still drinks which makes the ghosts on the house to reappear. So I wanna get the hell out of here, but I don’t have enough money to go by myself (I live in South America). I can’t find a way to live, I’m feeling from a homosexual to a loser and my mind is continuing killing myself with bad thoughts about me and another people. Life is shit, women are whores, my friends are great, but not me. I can’t think good of others, that really destroys me. I always have something bad to think about anyone, from the pope to a little child. I I I, that’s the only way I can start a sentence, I just figured, because I’m afraid of thinking about others and other things. I’m pathetic. I’ve been playing Counter-Strike before I started writing here, for like 3 hours. Sucks. I can’t consider myself of mistaking not even once. I cut my arm with a knife every time I get killed on Counter-Strike. I’m such a loser. See my point before? I can’t start a sentence without using the I first. And I’ll continue to do it, because I don’t know how not to. My parents are great, they lend me their car almost every time I ask for it. My father makes my meals, but I just wanna get the hell out of here and live by myself. I need a woman so desperately but I don’t have the guts to get laid. I consider myself a very thin person without muscles, and thats sucks too. I wanna be strong, but I’m weak. I used to have a strong mind, which compensated my lack of physical strength, but not anymore. I became erratic, suspicious and repulsive. And I can’t get a woman to love. I’m afraid to love a woman. I’m afraid to be taken as the shit I am. Women used to find me attractive. I used to be very charming with ladies and I got laid a lot. But not anymore. When someone speaks to me, I have in my head a continues “he/she’s lying to you” voice in my head. I can’t believe anything to anyone. I feel very lonely and unaccepted. But the thing is that I know I deserve it, because I’ve been behaving weird to another people, on purpose, just to make them feel what is like to live in my house, which ain’t a home for me. I don’t have a home at all. I’m death inside, just waiting for physical expiration.