Well in 2014 I lost the girl I thought would be wife. My fiance. And I let her down… I wasn’t good enough to make her happy and so… She found someone better than me. I don’t blame her. I always knew she would see me for what I really am. Worthless.
Here I am 6 years later looking at the empty space next to me in my bed… Wishing she was still here every night.
I thought she would be different. That maybe this time I would be enough. But it fell apart like always.
At the time, I figured by 30 Id be able to fix what was wrong with me. That gave me 9 years, which seemed so long at the time. I thought surely id be able to find someone who could love me even though I don’t deserve it… or that maybe I would somehow win my fiance back, that id be able to become someone worth her love, someone worth being with… But that was never possible, and every year that number gets smaller. It’s down to 2½ now. 2½ years before I die.
Even if someone COULD love me, I could never let it happen. Everyone who is unfortunate enough to care about me just gets hurt. I dont deserve to be loved. And I don’t deserve to be happy, because the cost of my happiness is making sometime else miserable.
Even if I won my fiance back, or found someone new. I could never let them Marry me. I can’t get this picture out of my head that someday at the end of their lives they’ll look back and regret that they picked me. We only get one shot at life. I’m not worth someone wasting their only chance on me. No one should have to go though that. I’m not a good person and I can’t hurt anyone else.
And so I only have 2½ years left. At best, my 30th birthday will be my last. A party of me hopes I catch and die from covid. From what I understand it’s horrible.. And that’s what I deserve. A way to pay for a small amount of the pain I’ve caused for people who loved me. And then no one will have to know how much I wanted to die or why. I don’t want my family to know what I’ve done to everyone who has ever cared about me.
I deserve this pain. And I deserve the weight of knowing the date of my own death.
20 comments
This world is full of shit stains who don’t just feel they deserve to live – they feel perfectly entitled to obnoxiously annoy everyone else with their presence.
How sad that someone like you feels guilty for even being alive.
Well spoken. There are those who feel perfectly entitled (and perfect too) to be obnoxious in public and often agonizing and even traumatizing in private while this individual o/p understands he has limitations (like we all do) and is not wanting to hurt another in the pursuit of his own interests.
Maybe I’m not seeing the whole picture, but sometimes I think obnoxious brodudes are breeding like rabbits.
Thanks for your appreciative words on my comment.
I often wonder how that feels. To wake up and not feel like I’ve failed by waking up at all. I have to set my alarms for 3+ hours before I have to be up just to pull together the strength to actually get up and pretend for everyone that I see that I’m happy and productive.
I often wonder how it feels to be like everyone else. To feel confidence, and pride in myself. It looks so easy for everyone and maybe people think that of me but once I get home I’m so drained from being someone I’m not all day.
You hit it on the head. I truly feel this horrible guilt for being alive. For not having ended it long ago. And it’s very heavy…
There is still a lot of hope for you, for you’re only in your 30’s, there are many women out there. Even if you were older, there still would be women.
Marriage is not everything, there is more to life — but if you can’t find a spouse, it’s not the end, for one can pursue another goal in life.
I’m in my 20s now. 27 actually. And I’ve accomplished many goals I’ve had for myself. I have a great career… or had.. covid has destroyed my career.. (yay! Another thing to add weight to my life), I own a house, a car, a motorcycle, I have a degree. I have my own small company which is the only thing making me any income right now. Hobbies that are pretty cool. But at the end of the day everything still feels so heavy. Nothing I accomplish seems to lift any of the weight I feel. Each challenge I overcome just leads to another. No hobby ever makes me feel better about myself. Or proud of myself.
I guess what it comes down to is that accomplishments feel empty without anyone to share them with. No one to be proud of me. Empty house. Empty car. Empty bed. A career that sucked my time. No one to vent about my day to. No one to celebrate my accomplishments with. No one to help me get back up from my failures. No one to cook for, no one to sit by the fire with.
It all just feels so empty. Sorry for writing a book here. It’s been a long time since I told anyone about how I really feel.
It’s okay, it’s what this place is up for. Your comment is really interesting and genuine! I know that feeling, of accomplishments not being fulfilling. And worse still is the void inside, which no material things can fill. But yeah, not having someone to share one’s accomplishments with, is really hard, for it makes one ask oneself “why do it if there’s nobody to share it with?”. (Elon Musk’s words describe it pretty well: “coming back from work, when you open the door, and there’s nobody to greet you”).
Our society encourages people to pursue things, to achieve things, to strive for success; yet it fails to answer the question “Why?”. Why strive for all that? Why aim for success? There came a moment when, what society prizes as the highest, I saw it for what it was: a shallow thing, a thing that fails to answer the question “Why?”. Eventually, I found my peace in God.
i dont think its so much they want success but they want to prove themselves to others. when in reality those others dont really care. for some success is what makes you happy. for me i just want to be happy and thats not found in success. i find happiness in being with my friends. making them happy. doing the things i like. and i dont much care what the rest of the world thinks. they can keep their big houses and fast cars. im happy where i am.
I don’t know his reason for achieving all that he has achieved, I believe it’s because society told him so.
I’m sorry, but I found happiness to be equally incapable of answering the question “Why?”. There is actually a philosophy out there, called Epicureanism, which states that everything we do, we do it either because it makes us happy or will make us happy in the future. The pursuit of happiness fails to satisfy the human soul, it fails to meet the deeper needs. It’s like chasing a shadow, only that the more it is chased, the farther away from you it gets.
Both in people and society, there is a lot going on under the surface. In order to study the situation, looking under the “car cover” of society is necessary.
maybe the key to happiness is being at peace
None of my successes have really been for myself. I do all these things that I thought would make me worth being with and worth marrying… That if I learned how to cook, if I drive a nice car, dress like a professional, have my own house, have a good career… that maybe someday I’d get to a point where I was actually worth something.
I’ve done so many cool things, whitewater rafting, rock climbing, repelling, overlanding… I’m a musician, a DJ. I worked for a time when I was younger in the concert industry Running Lighting systems for some really huge Electronic Artists at some of the biggest festivals in the country, climbed Cell phone towers as a tech for T mobile all before settling down into a career path that was stable… All things that should make people be like “wow he’s led an awesome life, done so many cool things had such cool jobs… Id like to be part of that….”
And yet.. every night I lay here. Alone. Miserable. Wishing anything I’d done and accomplished made me worth enough to be with. But it doesn’t. And I can’t help feeling that doing more won’t be enough either so why bother. I’ve done so many things that people say “that’s living life to the fullest” and most were really great in the moment but then they were over. And I had to go back to real life and nothing has changed. No one cares about any of the cool things I’ve done, or the things I’ve accomplished. How good or baf I am at anything.
At the end if the day it all amounts to nothing.
I’m really sorry to hear how time passes for you. I relate very much to that, because it too happens to me to sit on the computer and for 12 hours to pass quickly between youtube videos and internet articles. And, the most shocking part is, that at the end of the day I can’t remember anything useful; nothing of what I read or watched was useful, so I forgot it — but the time has passed, never to come back again.
Please, try to have a simple, meaningful goal. Not those of a carreer, perfect partner, or any such expectations. Not something that society tells you that you must have, but rather something that truly means something to you, something that speaks to your soul. Also, try shutting down your electronics and being in another room than them, or at least allow yourself to be without internet for a few days.
Also, practice being aware that you’re being distracted. And, when you’re aware of it, instantly close the game / all tabs in the browser, without a second thought. Personally, what I do when I realize that I’m currently distracted and unable to stop, I pray to Jesus to please free me from this, and then I hear a thought “Let go of this”; and I know that it’s God speaking to me, so I obey Him. If one truly, with all of one’s heart wants to be free, both from being distracted and from inner pain, the door is always open.
I understand this. I too accomplish things. I’m driven to just do. Keep doing. For what end? I have no idea. No idea for what end, because the only one seeing it is me. I keep walking forward and days like today it seems so pointless. But I force myself to find meaning in the meaningless. Today is a shitstorm of hopelessness and the loneliness is an itch I’ve never been able to scratch.
But truthfully? I can only blame myself. I can not allow another to scratch that itch, no matter how hard I try. That itch will always me mine.
I find what you write about relatable, because my self-image is negative enough that I have been suicidal for many years.
That being said, I do find it curious that there are some people we define by their strengths and not their weaknesses.
Example: The late Kobe Bryant. There was some scandal a while back involving a rape accusation, and I think he paid a settlement to the woman concerned. But when he died, he was pretty much deified.
It’s like we don’t see Kobe Bryant as this guy who needed to stop being so rapey and then maybe some day he could shoot some hoops. We see him as someone who was an incredibly gifted and hardworking basketball player, who made a (serious) mistake.
I sometimes watch those videos on YouTube with people who restore junk to pristine condition. I don’t know if they could do that if they only saw the flaws in the object. I imagine you have to be able to see some potential in the object which you can then work to bring out.
When I read about your plan of fixing yourself before you turn 30, it sounds like you have a long list of flaws you want to cross out so that when you are 30 you will have no flaws.
I wonder whether that is a) realistic, and b) inspiring? At most, you can end up as someone with no flaws.
What if you were instead to look for potential in yourself and try to bring it out?
Truthfully, I think the problem is that I don’t see potential. Regardless of how many things I accomplish or goals I meet it never feels like enough.
I don’t like myself. And every time I’m myself it ends up making people leave. That’s why I usually can’t keep any relationship longer than 2-3 months. Eventually she sees who I am under the mask. And then she leaves. I am a different fake person with each of my friend groups. Because I want to be someone they like and if I was myself they wouldn’t. I feed off the people I’m with to build the person I am so no o e actually has to know that failure that exists underneath… And truthfully I’m not sure even what is me and what’s an act anymore. Ive tried for so long to be anything but me that I don’t even know if there is potential here anymore…
Who is the real you, if my I ask? What is it that is so undesirable that people distance from? Surely it’s nothing that our society didn’t encourage, or didn’t instill in people.
The real me… I don’t know anymore. When I get home and lock the door behind me, when the walls come down, I don’t even know who I am. I can honestly sit for hours with no recollection of what happened during that time. My days off I’d be awake at 10AM and look over at the clock and suddenly. It’s 10PM and all that time had just disappeared. The few times in my life I’ve felt at peace and happy was while I was in a relationship as stupid as that probably sounds. But the version of myself that comes out then is one who worries that I’ll loose them and that they’ll find someone better. I’m not sure exactly what it is about me that truly makes them leave and that’s what makes it so hard to fix whatever is wrong with me.
I did a breif inpatient stint at a psych. Facility where I was diagnosed with Borderline personality disorder. Which is basically a death sentence because it’s defining characteristic is making anyone I’m with miserable. And that’s the last thing I’d ever want. There are thousands of posts online from people whose lives have been ruined by a borderline.
Whole subreddits exists for helping people get away from a borderline partner.
Every therapy blog has only one solution for people in relationships with Borderlines… “Leave or they’ll destroy you.”
I keep trying to fix everything. to try to be someone better than what I am. But all the amazing accomplishments in the world, even if someone fell for the illusion of success… They’d end up hurt in the end. And that’s not what I want at all.
So all I can do is pretend to be someone else so no one ever gets close enough to see what I really am.
I just disappear. Emotionally, physically. Gone. For months, years. This thing, this living, the only time I can stand it for any length is in the deep of woods, desert, ocean. Away from people. But I keep coming back, because well, job, family, everyday shit folks need from me. Sometimes I just leave the house for hours. Tell no one where I am. Turn off my phone. Go into a state park and just start walking. For hours. I am not who folks think I am. I’m not who I think I am. Today as I said, has been a complete shit storm.
I so understand this post. I marry men who could not possibly love me. Broken men. I don’t deserve the kind of love that has been offered me in the past. I have been offered the kind of love others would write stories about. I can not accept that in my life. It overwhelms me. I’ll just destroy the person offering this to me.
So I marry men incapable of loving me. Which suits me fine on most days. It is a transaction. It gives my life a measure of stability and I can not possibly hurt them, because they are unable to love me.
But the hand held out year ago? I walked away. Three, four times I have walked away from him. I would destroy him. His love for me would make me hate him. So yes, I truly understand this entire post. I’m broken. Always have been. Most days I accept that.
Today I just wanted to end it.
I understand. Everyone who has ever cared for me has ended up broken and miserable because of me. More than anything I want to be with someone, but I can’t watch myself destroy someone’s life again