Can’t take feeling this anymore. Unacceptable. Gotta change something. Do something.
So, what’s holding me back from living a worthwhile life?
Well, superficially, there’s all the minor health issues. Just enough to make me uncomfortable most of the time, without actually being severe enough to deserve medical attention (not that most of them are curable anyway.) Either my skin problems are flaring up. Or my stomach problems. Or my allergies. Or my insomnia. Or my back problems. The combination means I never feel well.
On top of that, there’s all the little embarrassing physical inadequacies (both real and perceived.) Because I need more reasons to feel inferior.
But let’s put all that to one side, and look deeper.
There’s this crippling fear. Terror. That I’ll never be able to really relate or connect with anyone. That I just can’t be real, or honest. Because the truth is awful. The truth is I don’t deserve to live. I’m worthless, and I don’t deserve any kindness or respect. I don’t deserve to be involved in anyone’s life.
And I don’t feel I can forget that, and pretend. I’m not a psychopath. I can’t consciously manipulate people, or deceive them. So I have to keep them at a distance, so that they don’t see the truth.
But how to change all that? Part of it is just integral to me. I’ve always felt awkward and self-conscious. Which then leads to fear that others will see me as inferior. I’ve always been weird, and found odd things appealing. I’ve always had difficulty relating, and been incredibly introverted.
Building on that, I’ve essentially wasted the last 10 years of my life. At 28, I have less confidence, less hope, and fewer resources than I did when I was 18. As an adult, I have failed in pretty much every regard. Even more for me to feel insecure about, and hide. How could anyone see what a pathetic inadequate coward I’ve been and still want anything to do with me? Pity is the best I could hope for, but all I deserve is scorn.
But beyond even that, there’s the things I’ve done, and wanted to do, that are just terrible. And I know that if anyone knew, they would despise me. So in order to get close to anyone, I have to deceive them. I have to pretend that I’m not this worthless, pathetic monster.
And knowing that increases the fear. I will be wronging anyone I allow myself to care about. And I know that will eat at me. Any relationship I build will be a lie. I will always be performing, rather than enjoying the moment or feeling actually cared for by anyone.
Still, maybe that’s preferable to the pain of isolating myself, watching a meaningful life pass me by. Maybe it’s preferable to death.
5 comments
hi, yu dont know me and thats okay. but your life is npt meanongless, its nt worthless. you are important in your own way. your existence is important. giving in to death isnt going to help anythng. jut keep going, im proud you made it this far. 🙂
Hi thehusk. I read this entire post, then I re read it again. I sat and digested what you said a little then went back and read it one more time.
First, you are not worthless. No I’ve never met me, however this heartfelt post tells me there is something in you that is beautiful. I believe in my heart that all of us, we humans wandering this earth deserve companionship. That is the bare minimum we deserve. I could argue we have a right to live well, health care, food, shelter, but lets boil this down to brass tacks.
all humans deserve companionship. You deserve companionship. Okay so you state that you have done terrible things and think about doing terrible things.
I think compulsively thing about putting a loaded gun in my mouth about two times weekly.
8 days ago I imagined what it would be like to hold the dude swimming next to me under water until he begged for mercy (not one of my prouder moments)
I had to put the hammer in the trunk of my car because I kept imagining what it would sound like to break the windows in my car.
What I am trying to say is that I, and I am thinking you too, think compulsive things. Maybe we do compulsive things. Compulsive things we are ashamed of. I know I have. I’m not going to list them here, they are way too shameful and I’d rather stuff that pain than share it.
The point it that I’m human, you are human. You deserve companionship. I deserve companionship. It isn’t easy, but take a chance, what is the very worse case scenario that can happen? Well lets not go there.
okay what is the medium bad thing that can happen? It is awkward and awful and I go home, but I took a chance. Or maybe it is wonderful but I feel terrible about it and I go home and drink the pink wine in my fridge until I black out. So I’m human and scared, and so are you. I get that. But if you and I never take a chance in life, we don’t get what we deserve, and that is companionship.
I say take a chance, let the dice fall where they may. Then report back to us and let me know how it went.
Hey Hazy, thanks for taking the time.
It’s not that I’m incapable of doing good things, or thinking good thoughts. I can seem to be the sweetest guy at times. In a way that almost makes it worse.
When I say I’m worthless, what I mean is that I’ll consistently abandon any kind of integrity or goodness for the sake of short term pleasure. That I don’t really believe in anything, deep down. It’s all superficial – like an alluring sheen on a rotten apple. I can recognize on reflection the right course of action, and even feel invested in it, but when the chips are down, I just don’t care enough, about anything. All my false good intentions are massively outweighed by a monstrous callousness that allows me to ignore any impact on other people.
There are terrible things and TERRIBLE THINGS, if you know what I mean. Disregard for the self, or your property (smashing things can be cathartic) is not the same as complete disregard for others.
Suppose you regularly set time aside to think about holding people under water, and enjoyed giving over to that part of you. That during those times it felt really good, in a way nothing else does – somehow right. That that part of you that felt it was right was incredibly strong, and had a hold over a deep part of you. That you’d even entertained the idea of doing something like that in reality, and it was only with rational reflection that you could remember how wrong such thoughts were. That in the past you’d even made moves towards doing things like that in real life, that in smaller ways had risked the wellbeing of others. Then you might be somewhere approaching where I am.
There are only a few things that really forfeit your humanity in the eyes of even good people – that show it to be completely lacking. I’m afraid that I’ve done one of them. I truly don’t deserve anything good from life. I deserve all the suffering and loneliness I experience, and far more besides. But I am not a moral person, so I don’t welcome my just deserts. I look for a way out, an escape. For a way to steal back the humanity that I have repeatedly sold so cheaply. To steal my way into a life that I don’t deserve.
I am still human, in the sense that I want to be understood, loved, accepted. But I have no right to any of these things. I have made them impossible. The worst that can happen is to have that confirmed more thoroughly in my mind. Then even my false hope will be lost.
@thehusk. There is redemption for all of us. I firmly believe that. Not in a bible thumping getcher Jesus on kind of way. But in a human way.
Until you take your last breath there is time to learn compassion, learn the part that you state are not there. It sounds like you want to, the rub is that you don’t believe you don’t deserve it.
Even if you have buried live cats in your back yard just to watch them suffer, you can redeem yourself. That is the beauty of humanity, moving forward allows us the chance to change and become the people we want to.
I do firmly believe that.
It feels like nothing I do could ever wipe away the stigma of what I’ve done. Suppose I cured cancer, or ended world hunger, or maybe something less totally fanciful. Then I would just be the guy who had gone out of his way to salve his conscience in an attempt to cover up what he’d done. It feels like nothing would ever make me truly acceptable in anyone’s eyes.
I can’t imagine a point where someone could really understand these things about me, and not want to kill me where I stood. Where they could appreciate the full totality of it, and the thinking behind it, and not want to be a million miles away. Where someone could tell me ‘well, you’ve done these awful things, and thought these awful thoughts, but that’s ok now because you’ve changed x&y.’
I can’t imagine any way to make it ok.
I can’t think of any conditions where anyone morally sane could tolerate being in the same room as me.
But even if I could, and I felt like I could really change things, I don’t think I could maintain it. That part of me is just too strong. I don’t think I want redemption consistently enough to overcome it. I would just give in again.
It’s not that I don’t understand compassion or empathy. It’s that a part of me just bypasses them. Whenever I’m able to think about things rationally, I can understand a person’s pain, and feel bad for them, and wish that things had been otherwise for them, even want to help them. But there’s a switch that flips, and I suddenly just don’t care. ‘I see your suffering, what is diminishing to you, and I don’t give a fuck.’ That’s as close to a definition of evil as I can think of. I don’t know how I could go about changing that. I don’t think there’s a cure for asshole.