I wish I could hate myself. Then at least I could feel like I deserve this never-ending string of disasters that is my life. I wish it were me who was the fuckup, and not the selfish, apathetic, incompetent pieces of trash that make up such a big chunk of society, ruining it for everyone else. Then at least I could feel like I deserve this.
Each disaster is just bad enough to make me want to die, but not quite bad enough to either kill me or make me kill myself. So I’m trapped. 27 years of the same shit in different packages, with little periods of hope in between. The hope always comes back and it always gets crushed again. It just won’t end. I feel like if I could just have even the average person’s luck, I’d be home free.
Each disaster is caused either by a previous disaster or by someone else’s fuckup/apathy/malice. That’s the infuriating thing. I do make plenty of mistakes, but not big ones, and I always take responsibility when something is really my fault. Knowing my luck, I’m always extra, extra careful, and I also take other people’s welfare into account. But most people are the opposite, and I’m often the one paying the price. And despite what you’re probably assuming, I’m no doormat. It’s just that I’m no island.
I was grew up dirt poor, in a broken family, with two abusive, negligent parents, in a city where nobody gave a fuck about anyone else and nobody could be trusted. All my problems can be traced back to those factors. I now realize that. For the longest time, I wanted to believe that if I just tried hard enough and sacrificed enough for long enough, I could get to a place where none of that could catch up to me. Outlook: not good.
What causes me the most pain is that I actually have a ton to live for, but the world will not let me get on with my life. It insists upon keeping me in this perpetual limbo where I’m neither living nor dying. Every time I get back on my feet, it always finds some insane new way to throw a monkey wrench in my gears, and it’s always something that’s beyond my control, or something I could’ve easily avoided if I’d ever had any parenting or guidance or money whatsoever.
I’m smart, competent, careful, hardworking, and I give a damn. But I’m not psychic and I’m not superman, and I’m fucking tired of finding myself in unlikely situation after unlikely situation where there’s no chance of avoiding yet another disaster unless I AM one of those two things. FUCKING BULLSHIT.
I don’t even know why I’m finally posting this.