Jobless, unstable, friendless… My New Year’s resolution is to work up the courage to commit suicide

WARNING: The post you are about to read is incredibly long and melodramatic and really not worth reading. Proceed at your own risk.

Hello all. Some of you may remember me, but I doubt it, not that it matters. I hope your holiday season is going better than mine.

I lost my job yesterday for flipping off a customer. I was already pretty upset about it, then I talked to my mother, who confirmed most of my greatest fears in just a few sentences. Her words were something along the lines of “I knew this would happen, it was only a matter of time. Everytime you called me, I thought it would be you telling me you had gotten fired.” Additionally, she had spoken with me earlier about my temper and how I pretty much have no control over it whatsoever, constantly guilt-tripping me over things I had said and done in the past.

I’m beginning (well, not really “beginning”, consider I’ve had these exact thoughts for years now, but that’s not really relevant to the matter at hand) to feel that no matter what I do, or try to do, I’m just going to end up failing spectacularly, be it because of incompetence, my temper getting in my way or sheer laziness. There is more than enough evidence in my past to support this. I at the point where I truly feel that the world, as well as the lives of everyone I know, would be better off if I were dead, or better yet, had never been born. I cannot think of anything that I contribute to society, nor any talents or abilities that could potentially help anyone with anything. Lately, I’ve started thinking that life is a game, and I’m just a glitch. The thing is, I’m not a fun or beneficial glitch that one can exploit for entertainment or some sort of gain, I’m a nasty, horrible game breaking glitch, the kind which can only be dealt with by totally ignoring them or finding some way of actively getting rid of or otherwise negating them. I can’t help but feel that my very presence causes many people to despair.

I’ve heard all my life that suicide is selfish, but I fail to see how this could possibly relate to me. I feel as if not committing suicide is selfish on my part, that by continuing to live I am ruining the chances of many to greatly improve their own lives. Even the people who claim to be close to me, that say they would be sad if I died (despite never taking the time to talk to me or acknowledge my existence except for when it benefits them in some tangible way) would be much better off without me. They wouldn’t have to hear me ***** and complain about every little thing, they wouldn’t have to deal with how clingy and dependent I can be, they wouldn’t have to worry if I’m doing or have done something stupid to get me or someone else in trouble. Most importantly, they would be free of bullshit like this, all the times when I’m so focused on my problems that I fail to see outside of myself, to remember that there are other people going through the same problems and I am not some sort of special snowflake. They would be free from this burden that my being alive places on them every single day. Had they really been concerned about making sure I don’t do something “selfish”, they would have killed me about a decade ago, when it first became blatantly clear that my entire life would be nothing but needless drama, random outbursts, mental and emotional instability and an unnecessary amount of problems that could have easily been solved with my death.

Had I not been such a coward, I would’ve been able to do it by now. I would have ended it a long time ago, leaving the few close to me to grieve for however long they would grieve for (my money is one “a few hours”) before forgetting I ever existing, or pretending to miss me but feeling secretly relieved that they didn’t have to put up with my histrionics.

As ridiculous as it sounds, I cried today. I, a grown man, cried, for a significant amount of time. Worst of all, it wasn’t over something that normally makes people cry, like the death of a loved one or hearing about / being involved in a true tragedy or seeing some injustice taking place, it was over a song, this song to be precise: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzTZeeMCUBk&feature=related

I looked up the lyrics as I listened to it, and how accurately it seemed to describe me and my relationship with just about everyone got to me, and suddenly all I could think about was how much better everything would be if I were dead. Every friend I’ve ever had has left me, most of my family has abandoned me, the ones who haven’t communicating with me solely out of a misguided sense of obligation, I am obviously not able to hold down a job, I suck at socializing, and I have no skills, practical, creative or otherwise, that could either help me make a living or benefit someone else. To top things off, I’m a big, clumsy, ugly, boring, awkward, vapid, unmotivated, stupid mass of flesh trying to pass itself off as a genuine human being. When it all comes down to it, I have no inherent worth or use at all, and I would be better off dead. All I need is the power to overcome my fears and a quiet spot with no other human beings there, which would be pretty hard to find where I live. All I want is to die, since it seems quite clear that improvement simply is not an option for me.

I meant for this post to be only a few sentences long. I guess that’s yet just another thing I can’t do right.