I am disgusting. I’m mostly in denial about that fact. But I am. I’m so covered in filth that nothing in this world could ever make me clean. And that’s a problem, because I would quite like at least one person in this world to really understand me, while still caring about me. And that’s not possible. Because if you understand me, you understand that I’m repulsive, and you want nothing to do with me.
So I will always be alone, unless I fool others into believing I’m not repulsive. In which case I will be permanently acting, and will still feel alone and unloved. So… my life is empty. And it will always be empty, no matter what I do in future. I could cure cancer, and I will still be repulsive and disgusting.
So…there is no point in continuing to live. Except that killing myself would devastate my parents. And they don’t deserve that. So I should see out the remainder of their lives. And then… I will be nothing. I will have no reason to continue.
My life is empty. I’m just going through the motions, running down the clock, pretending like I’m a person who isn’t repulsive and disgusting. Mostly in denial about that, because otherwise how could I function.
I don’t know if sadness is even the word. Or emptiness. I think I feel something about it. Crying stopped working a long time ago. Crying is for people who have hope. You have a good cry, and the emotional shock of it shifts something for you, and you resolve to change something. But there’s nothing to change. I’m disgusting. I will always be disgusting, no matter what I do in future.
I’ve ruined my life. And acknowledging that should make me cry. But crying doesn’t change it. And the hopelessness of that should lead to suicide. But that would only ruin the lives of others. And it’s not that I feel nothing. I feel this desperate urge for a way out, an escape. For some way to make it right. To no longer be this. But at the same time that’s countered by the absolute understanding that there’s no way out. So I just sit here, impassive.
And in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. I’m just another miserable ape, among many billions throughout time. It’s just another wasted life. But I feel like I should care, if I care about anything. This is the one life I have responsibility for, and I completely fucked it. And I feel like I should do something. But there’s nothing to be done. So I type.
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You feel the same way I felt when I went to prison. I was disgusted with myself, convinced I was irredeemable because I could no longer live up to the standards I had made for myself.
I met people in there who was far more disgusting than me, though. Rapists who would lie through their teeth about what they did, murderers who felt no shame about telling you what they did…I did meet one murderer though who truly was trying to turn things around for himself. He was a guy that robbed a gas station for drug money and killed the guy working behind the counter. Same guy was all about Jesus on the Inside. Super nice guy though. And even when people fucked with him and threw basketballs at his head, he stuck with the Jesus thing, and didn’t retaliate. That’s a really hard path to take in a place like the joint.
Anyway, I digress. Point is, you’re probably less repulsive than you think you are, because we tend to be our own worst critics. And even if you truly are repulsive, you don’t have to stay that way. I doubt you’re any worse than the guys I met in prison. There are people in there that are good and have changed but still have to wait out their sentences. And they make the best of it, because what else is there? (Not to guilt trip ya, just demonstrating that these things are possible).
I ruined my life, too. But Im still sucking in air, and time keeps on ticking. And even though I think about offing myself sometimes, and even though I think I’m repulsive in my own ways, I don’t want to die knowing I could’ve done something to change that about myself.
I won’t pretend to know what your life is like, though. For all I know, I’ve given bad advice. But hey, at least I made an effort. I encourage you, warmly, to make one too.
Best wishes, much empathy, much respect
It’s true that there’s always someone more disgusting than you. But viewed through the eyes of others, I am unfortunately absolutely repulsive. I can change my actions somewhat, and I have (somewhat). I don’t think I can change many of the parts of myself that led to those actions, or at least it would be incredibly complicated (I have tried). And even if I managed it, it wouldn’t change the way others see me, because of my past. Some acts unfortunately colour you in the eyes of everyone regardless of what you do going forward.
And that’s what I actually care about – being understood and loved/accepted, so I don’t feel so alone. I don’t actually care about being a better person (which probably is further evidence that I’m not a good person.) I care about the hole within myself where human connection should be.
But hey, don’t let me in any way discourage you from making the effort to improve yourself. I do believe that for some crimes people can earn rehabilitation in the eyes of others, and it’s unlikely you’re as far gone as I am. And regardless, it’s a noble pursuit to better yourself. The despair just has a pretty heavy grip on me right now, so I’m struggling to convince myself that there’s anything but deepening loneliness in my future. I’ll push it back down at some point, and return to a state of fragile denial.
I understand. I’ve become a bit misanthropic lately, myself. In my experience, there are daggers in men’s smiles, and even kindness has a potential for betrayal given hidden ulterior motives. I’m distrustful of people, in general.
Nevertheless, I have found that the secret to human connection is, paradoxically, accepting yourself, flaws and and all. Maybe that sounds like cliché therapist garble, but it’s true. The less I care about what others think, the more people like me.
Anyway, I won’t keep ya. Again, best wishes.
I think it’s very hard to accept yourself when you know there are things others won’t accept about you. If you can sufficiently detach yourself from the judgments of others, then I agree, it makes you much more likable. When I’m in the right mindset, I can absolutely be likable on a superficial level, and make people want to get to know me. The problem comes when I inevitably have to hide core parts of myself, which leads to a sense of distance between us. I’ve had a fair few “almost” friendships and relationships throughout my life, where I charmed the person initially, only to fail to form a deeper connection by holding back the truth about myself. There’s a huge gap in my personality that I can’t talk about, and people sense that I’m hiding something.