Life Is A Sick Joke

I have no idea what to do.  I’ve been thinking about my life a lot lately and how I’ve ended up where I am today, and I still can’t quite put my finger on it.  I was raised by my grandparents staring when I was just six months old.  I saw them as mom and dad and I called them mom and dad.  They provided me with everything I wanted: a safe, clean home, video games, great meals, vacations every March break, the list goes on.  My grandmother passed away in 2003 from lung cancer when I was 17.  After the funeral, my grandfather accused me of hastening her death by putting her through stress.  I had a girlfriend at the time that I was completely infatuated with and spent most of my time with her.  My grandparents did not approve of her and said that they didn’t like her very much.  My uncle also accused me of making my grandmother die quicker because I put her under stress. A few days after her funeral, there was one night when my grandfather and my uncle, along with my uncle’s girlfriend were talking downstairs as I slept on my grandmother’s bed.  Suddenly I heard my uncle shouting and in seconds he was running up the stairs and looking around like a madman looking for me.  He then found me and pulled me downstairs into the kitchen to have a little talk.  All three of them had obviously been drinking for awhile and they were quite drunk and belligerent.  My grandfather (Dad) literally screamed at me that I killed his wife.  I didn’t know how to react to this and I felt like something bad was going to happen so I ran to the patio door, unlocked it and ran outside.  I felt my dad grab me as I was running so I threw my arm behind me to shake him off and I felt my hand hit him and then he let go.  I kept running until I got to my friend Steve’s house and I stayed there for the night after telling him and his mom what had happened at home.  I am now 25 years old, turning 26 in January and I’m seriously considering killing myself.  I’m infested with guilt because of the way I treated my grandmother before she died.  I hardly helped her at all and I just assumed that the chemotherapy was going to run its course and cure the lung cancer.  I was wrong.  My grandfather has since remarried (his ex daughter-in-law no less) and I haven’t spoken with him since 2004.  Part of me wants to talk to him but another part says that it’s no use and that he’ll be disappointed in me.  I haven’t done anything with my life and I’ve burned my bridges with almost all of my family.  I lived with my uncle (the same one who pulled me downstairs into the kitchen) for over 2 years and now he hates me because I owe him money for the rent I missed.  I moved out from his place mainly because he’s an alcoholic and his buddies had mentioned on more than one occasion that I shouldn’t be living there and doing nothing with my life.  I was working part time at a Sears store selling electronics, that only lasted 3 months and I got fired.  I feel like all I’ve done is used people to support me and they’ve all catered to me so much that I hardly know how to take care of myself.  I’m almost 26 years old and can barely take care of myself.  I’m currently taking Police Foundations in college and I’m failing 2 of my courses and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to bring my marks up by the end of the semester as it’s only two weeks away!  I seriously don’t know why I chose Police Foundations anyway… I’m no cop.  I’m too emotional a person to be a cop.  I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.  It’s only a matter of time before my classmates realize I’m no good and they throw me to the wolves.  Even though they like me and say good things about me now, they’ll think differently if I fail those 2 courses.  Next thing I know the year is going to be over and I’ll be needing to make payments to pay off my student loan for the diploma I didn’t get.  Jobs around here are scarce and even if I do find one it’ll be a crappy job that no one in their right mind would want to get stuck with for even six months!  When I was 17 I couldn’t even hold down a job I had at Taco Bell.  I hate myself to the core and I try to look good and present myself nicely to people so they’ll take me seriously…. If only they knew that I was dreaming of dying almost every minute of each and everyday.  I’m an atheist and don’t believe in any afterlife, though it’ll be interesting if there is one to see how it compares to this life.  The more I look at the world around me the more sick it seems to be.  Life just seems pointless to me now, it’s completely absurd.  Once I die, no one is going to care.  In 100 years no one is going to remember me.  I’ll be wiped into oblivion not even 50 years after I’ve expired.  I want to die, but I’m still afraid to kill myself.  I don’t know if I’m more afraid of how much it will hurt, or what comes after.  I’ve often though that the only reason I’m still here is because I don’t know what comes next.