I’m tired. I’m really tired. Not just physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’m tired if being the way I am, actually no I’m tired of not being the way I am. I mean if I take a look at myself. From like. A reasonable perspective. Right now, I rarely leave my bed. I usually fall asleep at 2 or 3 in the morning, wake up at 5, and then I don’t get out of bed until early afternoon. Do I have a reason to? I should have a reason to. I should have a reason to not be in my bed, wasting my time away, staring at the ceiling, surfing the internet, and watching porn. I should have a reason not to do those things. I told myself yesterday, and earlier today, I don’t have an ego anymore, I’m so crushed. But I still have a fucking ego. My ego is huge. My confidence is non existent, but not my ego. I fucking remember last september. I was praying to God, and I said, I want you to humble me, I want you to destroy my pride. Is this the result of that? Is the way my life is right now the answer to my prayer? Man, if it is, I can’t say I’m grateful. I only know that I want to get out of this position.
From the start, in October, I said I have two options, number one is to kill myself, and number two was to start worshipping God, and supposedly the deadline for that decision was March 25, and I really fucking wanted to kill myself that day. I really did. I knew that the only way I had to do it was to stab myself to death with a knife. I got scared. The fucked up thing about that is, I made a plan in February to start cutting myself every week, more and more, until killing myself with a dull knife didn’t seem like a bad option. But I didn’t do that either. Actually, the only reason I started cutting myself was because of my now ex girlfriend. She was fucked up. I was fucked up. I liked her because she didn’t want me to get better. She was the only person that didn’t have a problem with the way I acted. Because she cut herself too. She was on antidepressants, she had to take several medications every single day just to stop her from killing herself because if she didn’t take them for one day, she would attempt a suicide. She had psychotic episodes every two weeks. She lived completely alone. Her parents died in a car accident two years ago. I was jealous of her. I told her that I wished my parents were dead, she told me how lonely she was, how her mental health got worse every day, and the only reason she was managing decently was because of me, and then I had to fuck that up too like I do with everything.
I mean. Look at me, I’m a fucking delusional porn addict that peaked in middle school. Nobody wants me. Nobody will ever want me, because I’m boring, and I’m an asshole, and I’m lazy. I don’t even deserve to feel this way. I wish I had the courage to kill myself. I wish I did. I could make a plan. I probably have enough resources to be able to do it. I just have to get on top of a really high building, or a bridge, and then take one big step forward. It doesn’t seem that bad if I put it that way, but I know how scared I am of heights. I know that I would probably be paralyzed in fear rather than ready to die if I went ahead and did that. My conviction isn’t strong enough. I’m not brave enough to take that final step.
Maybe, there’s even a part of me that’s hesitating. “Is this really the right decision?” “What about my brothers?” “My cousins?” “My family?”
As if I should care about my family. They don’t care about me. They want nothing to do with me. No one wants anything to do with me. I’m just annoying, tired, and angry all the time. Why would anyone want to waste their efforts on someone that hates them? Someone that puts less value to a person than an animal? Why should they care about me? Right? There’s no reason to. I just deny all their efforts. I tell them to leave me alone. “I don’t want your help.” “Just leave me alone.” The worst part is, they actually do care about me, and I’m just an asshole that twists everything and makes it seem like everyone hates me when in fact I’m the only one that sees it that way. Why should I snap out of it? Is “thinking clearly” even worth my time?
Is anything worth my time? I just waste it anyway. Wouldn’t it be better if I stopped wating food and oxygen for everyone else on the planet. I bet everyone would be happy if I was gone. I really think they would. They don’t seem to care while I’m there so why would they care if I’m gone? It’s not like I make any difference when I’m not acting like a different person. I really hate myself. There’s no reason for anyone to ever want to be with me. There’s no reason for anyone to want me. I’m just a fucking misanthropic porn addicted loner. Why should anyone be bothered with me? I wouldn’t be bothered with me. If I killed myself I would be happy. Happy that I’m gone. Happy that I’m no longer wasting valuable space that someone that actually wants to accomplish something could occupy.
I never listen to what anyone says anyway. My father tells me to read, he tells me to read lots of books, that I should write a plan on how to make my life better, that he wants me to be better. I couldn’t care less about what he wants. I prefer my mother, because she hates me as much as I hate myself.