It’s no one else’s fault that I’m unhappy. The prospect of ‘living out‘, as it were, another 12 months or so of this is daunting, to say the least. It’s not that I hate my job. It’s straightforward and uncomplicated, but I can’t stand the inclination towards pedantics, the bureaucracy, and the incompetency of certain people. I mean, I know I’m not perfect but I’d like to think I do a decent job. In the end though, I know I’m replaceable. In every aspect. I wish they would just leave me alone and quit getting on my ass all the time.
I told a friend I couldn’t meet as I had work the next day and needed to sleep. I couldn’t say for certain but I feel like she was annoyed, and then just couldn’t be bothered to reply. I’ve felt for quite a while that we’re all replaceable, that I’m replaceable. And looking back and reminiscing, I’ve realised that I’m not actually that important. Quite forgettable, in fact.
I won’t go so far as to say that all depressed people are selfish (I couldn’t, I can only speak for myself, but it’s something I’ve heard/read), but I can see elements of it in myself. Someone told me that everyone is selfish to some degree; it’s a human trait. True. I hate the human condition. I hate over-thinking. I don’t really want a reason to ‘hang on‘ in the hopes that things might get better. Things don’t get better. They might get better. That’s gambler’s fallacy. It’s going to be… long as fuck, but I hope things get worse and I hope that by next year I’ll have the drive to just neck myself. It’s not that I’m afraid to take responsibility for my actions; I don’t want to hurt people, hence years of wishing I didn’t exist. Soooooooo fucking dull.
Better yet, struck by lightning. Eureka.
2 comments
I totally get you on the whole being forgettable. I have been living that way for the last two years trying to get a job. Even after having a meltdown this morning about not having a job, my boyfriend went off to work and said he would be call me in between his meetings. He never did. Why do you think we are forgettable people?
The rational side of me that isn’t super depressed and anxious will want to say that “People have lives, are busy and often get caught up in day-to-day life.” And perhaps they do think of you, of me, of us, but don’t say it. But it often doesn’t feel that way.
I’m not sure. I couldn’t say that we’re forgettable because we have some kind of deficiency. I don’t want to drag you down with me into the grave. I don’t want to say ‘boyfriend’, because I feel like I’ll jinx it or that I’m being presumptuous, but the guy I feel that I like, or love… when I told him about how unhappy I was, he had nothing to say. And I feel like he’s making excuses, isn’t being honest and is deliberately creating distance for whatever reason. And as much as I try to detach myself, it does make me feel bad.
Maybe it’s not necessarily being forgettable. I feel as if depressed people are kept at arms’ length; obviously, there’s only so much you can do for somebody, but at the same time, people seem wary of getting involved to any degree with someone who has mental issues and struggles to cope. It’s taxing on everyone. Plus inherently, we’re all a little bit selfish.
Are you seeing a therapist or anyone at all?