I am only seventeen years old, and already life has lost meaning. It sounds ridiculous, I know. In my more stable state of mind I laugh at how ridiculous I am, how foolish I must be to think that life has no promise for a bright, creative teenager on the cusp of independence. However I might feel on my good days, I know that on days like today the reality of the crushing, empty pointlessness of the world is too much to bear.
There is a pain inside of me. It is like a hollow, black emptiness, a void of emotion where Despair and Hopelessness are the reigning monarchs. I have this feeling that the only way to make it go away is just to end it all. I think I’m desperate, and on the verge of just killing myself once and for all. I don’t want to go to any doctors who will try to make me see meaning in the world, because there is none. No matter what anyone does, anyone who has ever existed or will ever exist, none of it can have any meaning because it is only filling time between birth and death. There is nothing more than being born, dying, and wasting time in between.
I’m not saying that just because life has no meaning I should stop living it. I would happily live, if only I could find pleasure in life. But most days are full of suffering and self-derision. There are days of sanity and pleasure, where I consider finding help, to save me from myself, but that isn’t what I want. I can’t explain why. It’s like there isn’t any point to changing the way I think and feel, because it won’t make it any less true. It’s as though all I will be doing is hiding the truth away and playing a game of pretend. I never could play pretend, even as a child, and I suppose the unpopularity then should have indicated that I would be absolutely friendless and alone later in life. The rejection doesn’t help either. It stings, and adds to my suffering.
Also, I absolutely hate the person I am, for many reasons. I can’t form attachments with people. I am socially awkward, unable to maintain conversations or initiate friendships. I am unintentionally abrasive and rude, which makes people dislike me. But the thing I hate most about myself, detest and loathe so much it makes me want to claw my eyes out, is the fact that I am gay. Closet gay, of course. I hate myself for it, and I just wish I had never been cursed with it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against homosexuality or gay rights or anything like that. I just wish I wasn’t one.
Sorry for the rant. I’ve never had people to vent to. It made me feel a little bit better
2 comments
Hmm I feel the same way about not being happiness and my life seeming like a waste of time. That’s my depression.
A disthymic part of me is convinced that I am somehow doomed as well. I don’t know how to respond, except to thank you for sharing a part of your story. Welcome aboard, empty.person 🙂
Don’t feel sorry for ranting. Its good to get it out. When I was reading this I was like,”wow! I feel the same way!” with the horrible emptiness. Your not alone. I think that the horrible emptiness is the new generation, my generation’s struggle. We’ve grown up in all this empty quantity without any substance.
And gay people feel inadequate to straight people because thats how our homophobic society works. The general consensus is ” straight people are superior” so gay people are going to feel terrible about themselves and wish that they were like “everyone else.” If you ever want to talk my email is; shmarlymerh@gmail.com