deleting later

April 16th, 2018by iamdarling

i’ll make a permanent post on this topic later.

my life is fucked. it’s ruined, and there’s no denying that. i’ve been struggling with multiple mental illnesses for years now, i have no friends, and an abusive family that have caused my own name to activate my flight or fight response. which is really fucking sad, actually. really fucking sad. i haven’t even achieved more than a primary school education, as i stopped attending classes due to my mental health when i was 11, so i have no idea how i’m ever supposed to get a job that i enjoy, a job that pays more than minimum wage and doesn’t involve me bagging shampoo bottles and cereal boxes. i’ve missed out on so much, schoolwork, experiences,  friendships, relationships, i couldn’t even have a decent family. i’m not academically smart, i don’t really have any talents, i’m either painstakingly average (or below average) at everything, or only slightly good. the only thing i really consider myself good at is singing, and singing isn’t going to fix my fuck up of a life. and to top it all off, i’m ugly. yep. after all the bullshit that goes on in my life, i’m not even able to feel uncomfortable with the way i look, in my own skin. fucking sucks, right?

i’m aware i could have it worse, i know. i’m aware every bad aspect of my life could be worse and bad things that don’t play a role in my life could intrude and take place. but, whilst i am glad i, youknow, don’t have some sort of health condition where i can’t control my bowels and wake up in a pile of my own shit all the time, i still feel horribly hopeless. i still feel like my life is shit, which it is, and there’s nothing i can really do to fix it. i try to help myself feel better, but most of my problems can only be fixed by outside forces, which i cannot control. (by ‘trying to make myself feel better’, all i do is watch tv, read books, buy things, and try to eat food i enjoy. when you lead a life like mine, materialistic items are your main source of ‘happiness’).

so i’m basically stuck with the same old, same old, same old routine and same old struggles and same old shitty life until some sort of mystical power decides, boom, i’m sorting this shit out, which seems very highly unlikely. i severely doubt i am going to wake up one day, be beautiful, have a kind, loving, supportive family, and feel the weight of the world lifted off of my shoulders. i doubt i’ll recover from my mental illnesses, i doubt i’ll be able to go back to school and make friends and experience things i’ve never experienced. i doubt any of these things will happen anytime soon.

the thing about experiences and missing out really gets to me. let’s say, after ten years i finally get my shit sorted out. but, you can’t get time back. i still would have missed out on so many amazing things. even things that people my age might experience everyday seem like totally unrealistic and out of this world opportunities. for my peers, doing things like, kissing someone or taking a bunch of silly selfies with your friends, or to sing songs with people you care about or skipping a class to giggle and graffiti on the bathroom stalls… these things might seem like average, everyday things that don’t seem interesting at all. but these are all things i’ve never experienced and the mere thought of it gives me this sad, hopeless feeling that it shouldn’t. knowing i’ll never be able to experience these things makes me feel that way, and if i ever did, i know it would have this strange, bittersweet feeling to it. almost like, i’ve waited so long to be a part of these silly, lighthearted scenes that finally doing them would feel so incredible in a way no one else could understand, but also so sad as i could have been doing these things before, if only my life didn’t turn out this way.

i don’t really know where this post is going. i hope someone understands and is able to make sense of it. goodnight all.

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