Cowardly reasons I think I’d be better off dead

Always, ever since I was little kid, I knew that for me to survive in this world, I must change myself in order to make money.

Up to a certain point, the more money you have, the more of your own problems you can get rid of (I know that money doesn’t buy happiness, but as a poor college student that is stuck with one of my parents in a house that is falling apart, I know that poverty sure does bring misery)

And for that same reason, to avoid misery, you have to turn to things that are ‘practical’.

I always loved ‘unpractical’ things, at least it’s what they were in the eyes of others, such as drawing,obscure media,  higher math, useless languages and so on, and never having clear goal for 20 years of my life, I felt that no matter what I do, I am doomed to fail.

I am studying math and cs in uni now, and I know that if I finish this, I’ll be sure to learn a lot and do bunch of things if I apply myself a little. Yet, years of hating myself and wanting to die, left me feeling that my brain is damaged.

I’m terrified of future where I find no work, and also the one where I do find work. I’ve had multiple jobs before, and frankly most of them were soul-crushing. It’d be crazy to believe that most aren’t. Welcome to late stage capitalism and shit work prospects.

But what if, life itself isn’t soul-crushing? What if my own soul is easily crushed? Then I  shouldn’t have been born at al. I am just so tired of being weak, of being me. I wish it’d stop.