I’m a 26 year old male, depressed, chronic procrastinator, without any sense of meaning in my life. I hate the world we live in, so much is wrong, greed over morality pretty much sums up most of it, and an ignorance is bliss lifestyle the rest. But that’s the normal QQ; here’s were it gets really pathetic. I hate myself most of all, everyday I wake up and cuss at myself until I can finally summon up the will to get out of bed and face another day of my life. I have nothing, and I know it’s no one’s fault but my own; I shit on every opportunity I’ve had, have, and will have.Â I’m a fucking virgin at 26, whats worse is I think I could slept with the girl I love, but my fear and embarrassment of myself, my inexperience, my premature ejaculation problem stopped me; I just felt it would’ve turned into a hideous mess; to make it worse I’d just puked from the car journey back to her place and the alcohol (I don’t drink much) I did it without her noticing, that would of been an excuse at least… Then more then a week later I was in the same position, I’d been trying to “psych” myself up, but when it came to it, I realized as I always do how fucking useless and pathetic I am, and I actually laughed when she said do you want to sleep in my bed… I fucking laughed, it was at myself, how I was literally where I’d wanted to be for so long, and I couldn’t. Later I realized what it must have seemed like to her… And now those moments make me scream at myself every day, all my random thoughts grow my self hatred.; now it’s all I have, it’s my being, I can’t see joy in anything, I can’t see myself happy doing anything. I know I deserve to die, for fucking up everything this badly. I hate talking to people, I barely can anymore, the less I talk the worse it gets, it’s coming to the point were I have word salad, fumbling anything I have to say into a incoherent mess, when I do get the courage to say something. I just think of how people see me, that first impression, yup that’s right I’m a fuck up. I won’t go to shrink, there’s other people out there with more to save then whats left of me.
Now I just dream off relief, of getting a propane tank and filling it with ********, and just bringing it all to a nice clean end; but an end to my suffering, isn’t even worth the suffering it might inflict on my poor old mum. She wouldn’t understand that death is better then life for some, I just don’t “fit” in to this world. So for now I just suffer, waiting.
Why write all this? I don’t know, I wanted to tell someone for so long, but my friends and family will be here tomorrow and I fear the looks they’d give me if I told them. So sorry to burden you Suicide Project posters, with another story of a lost soul, but I felt compelled.