I should never have dreamed the dream

Well, I don’t like to say the word “suicide” because it has always had negative connotations in my life. My family is comprised of a bunch of cold-hearted, sarcastic Argonauts with strong wills and drive, so we see suicide as pathetic. And the twist: I’ve felt suicidal since day one. The inner conflict of the way I was raised and the way I feel is certainly nothing short of overwhelming. I’ve always wanted different things from the people around me and consequentially I’ve felt stifled, suppressed, and unwelcome in my environment for years. I have very few friends, and the ones I do have I hardly trust 90% of the time. I’ve never had a relationship, and the only human being I’ve ever felt close to, my twin sister, has gone to college and is off living this great life I should be living. But blah blah long story blah, I ended up going to a piece of shit school in the same town I was raised in. I could have gone anywhere I wanted to go with my grades and academic history. But no. I had to be a martyr and sacrifice for everyone else. I hated that my life wasn’t changing, and that I’d be living the same day over and over. Worse, college has nothing to offer me. I’m good at the wrong things in life; I have a flair for the creative and dramatic but there’s no job market for an art history major with a minor in creative writing. So I feared the future; this inevitability of working the 9 to 5, stuck in the same environment that’s so contrary to who I want to be. I wanted to die. I hated everything. Mostly I hated myself. Then I took a chance and tried to quit school and move out; pursue the dream. Long story short, I’m too broke to even have a pot to piss in. So now I’m crawling back, tail between my legs and hat in hand, to the life I tried to run away from. Now I have to hop back into the hamster wheel and fade away into a depressed mess of a person, a lost soul so desperate to feel love and acceptance but shunned at every turn. So I quit. I want to die because I literally can’t face another day. I don’t have it in me anymore to have all these big dreams for myself then have life spit back in my face. I’m thinking about finishing this dog and pony show Anne Sexton style and starting my car in a closed garage. I think that’ll be easy enough. I’m just exhausted and washed up. I’m too the way I am to live in a world so terribly the way it is.