Main reasons would be my parents, and my cats, although I suppose my cats might be better off with someone who isn’t so often depressed. I guess it’s the same with my parents…but unfortunately they got dysfunctional me.
If it were just me, I really don’t think I’d have anything at all to live for. This world is so f’d up imo…really depressing. That reality might be tolerable if I felt that something could be done about it, but I don’t think so, and it certainly isn’t going to happen through any effort of mine.
I don’t know if I have low-grade autism or something, but my ability to socialize is quite bad. Don’t really have friends, and any relationships I might be able to make don’t really develop, and never last. Might be just social anxiety (which both led to and was caused by not having socialized much during formative years). In any case I have terrible people skills.
So…I don’t like this world, don’t really like myself, am socially disconnected…is it any wonder I’d rather not be alive?
Force of habit, force of who I want to be, but not who I am…..
there’s this weird ego thing that keeps me holding on, I want my story to end better than “he gave up.”
yet today, I feel defeated, and if I don’t give up it’s not because that’s how I prefer things, it’s because for whatever reason people love this used up person I used to call a man, a friend, a professional, a keeper of hearts and tender of souls.
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Relatable
Main reasons would be my parents, and my cats, although I suppose my cats might be better off with someone who isn’t so often depressed. I guess it’s the same with my parents…but unfortunately they got dysfunctional me.
If it were just me, I really don’t think I’d have anything at all to live for. This world is so f’d up imo…really depressing. That reality might be tolerable if I felt that something could be done about it, but I don’t think so, and it certainly isn’t going to happen through any effort of mine.
I don’t know if I have low-grade autism or something, but my ability to socialize is quite bad. Don’t really have friends, and any relationships I might be able to make don’t really develop, and never last. Might be just social anxiety (which both led to and was caused by not having socialized much during formative years). In any case I have terrible people skills.
So…I don’t like this world, don’t really like myself, am socially disconnected…is it any wonder I’d rather not be alive?
Force of habit, force of who I want to be, but not who I am…..
there’s this weird ego thing that keeps me holding on, I want my story to end better than “he gave up.”
yet today, I feel defeated, and if I don’t give up it’s not because that’s how I prefer things, it’s because for whatever reason people love this used up person I used to call a man, a friend, a professional, a keeper of hearts and tender of souls.
I only have reasons to die
Doting parents. And a caring older bro. That’s all.
whats a reason for anything tbh