DISCLAIMER: This is just my usual attempt to untangle the mess in my head. Much of it is probably rambling bullshit.
I don’t know what I’m doing here. My mind is dominated by the negative. All I can think of is the things that are wrong with my life. The physical discomfort I’m in. The way my body should look. The things I should’ve done. How alone I am.
I don’t want to die. I’m far too self-involved for that. Who would the universe revolve around if I disappeared?
I just don’t know how to live in a way that doesn’t spread misery. Maybe I’m addicted to being miserable. But I don’t know how to contain that. Part of me wants everyone else to be miserable too. Then at least I won’t be alone anymore. Misery really does love company.
I’m alone because of who I am. I don’t really like people much. Or I don’t like the way I feel around them. I don’t like feeling inferior. And I don’t know how to overcome that feeling of inferiority. I am inferior. To everyone. Morally. Socially. So I’m always subconsciously on the lookout for signs that other people think as little of me as I do of myself. Which I imagine isn’t very pleasant to be around.
I’m not really sure who I should be. I can’t imagine a future version of me that isn’t pathetic and worthless. There are lots of things that maybe I should do. But all the while I will still be worthless and pathetic. I will still be alone. I should just somehow contain all that self-hatred and fear. I should just suck it up.
But there’s no version of me that’s ok. That’s at peace. That’s at ease in the world. That can face himself in the mirror. I can’t see any way to that person.
So what am I doing? There’s no real meaning to any of it. I’m just drifting along, trying to numb the pain. But every now and then it overwhelms me, and starts to feel unbearable. And I just want someone to stick me with a needle full of peace. Just knock me out. Give me some pill. Make it go away.
Maybe I should try drugs. Maybe I should drink more. Maybe I should just end it.
I’m so completely alone. Why should that be a problem? That I don’t mean anything to anybody, as I really am? Even if I did, why should that make my life significant? But we are a social species, and this is a social culture. God is dead. Socialism is dead. The planet is dying. All that remains to give our lives significance is the relationships we form. The partners we love, the children we bring into the world, the friendships we make, the groups we join. The people we leave an impression on, that is all that shields us from the abyss.
And I am nothing. I am no one. I am a no one that tortures itself with ideas that it should be someone. Which I suppose is kind of funny.
4 comments
Wow. You just reminded me so much of myself. I don’t know if that proves anything, but I can identify with your post to pretty much the last word.
Oh dear. I’m sorry about that. Although that could just be because I left all the specifics out. Maybe lots of people would identify with it. Maybe everyone’s equally screwed.
Idk, I think a lot of people could identify with your post, you’d be surprised.
I can kind of identify but not really. I don’t matter to anyone who’s not blood related and so therefore isn’t biologically ‘meant’ to care about me. But, really, I am just not capable of fulfilling my duties to them as a daughter, sister, mother. Or any of my duties as a human being. I just don’t fit in anywhere. So yeah, I kinda sorta identify.