So yesterday my team and I turned in our group project. That makes the second term project for me this semester with one more to go. Overall we got a good response from the teacher. It didn’t work like we wanted it to, but we still managed to satisfy the professor. We probably won’t get the best grade in the class, but we didn’t fail. The thing is that’s not the best thing that I took away from this whole process. I still have a low opinion of myself and think that I will end up as nothing, but this project gave me a small bit of hope that maybe I’m not completely useless. I think I was able to help to some degree and be a good engineer. One of my teammates was this extremely bright girl that is a part of this fancy research lab and works several jobs and has this huge list of accomplishments, which usually bums me out to think about how everyone around me is better than me. However, there were just certain things that she was not great at. Trying to explain certain things to her was a bit difficult and she always seemed to want to do things the hard way or in a way that just didn’t make sense. So it made me realize that you don’t necessarily need to have this long list of achievements and all that to be something. Yeah she still has this long line of achievements and she probably is a lot more knowledgeable than me in certain areas, but I still had something to offer. The same goes for the other two teammates, they have this incredible list of achievements and jobs, but they are also older than me and took a while to get to a place where they understood what they liked and wanted. They either changed majors several times or transferred from community colleges or what not. So I now know that it’s ok to not have this direct path to success. They took different winding paths to get to where they are now and that’s fine. I don’t know. I think I don’t feel as useless and pointless.
I did it. I told my team that I had to leave. I ran away again. I’m pathetic. I always run away when things get hard. I am a coward. I will never be anything. I love spider-man. I love My Hero Academia. I think I love those things, because those characters never give up. I love seeing them get up when everything is against them and win. How they never let themselves fail or run away. That’s what defines them. The get up no matter what. I’m nothing like that. I’m not a hero. I’m not anything. I remember as a young kid that I’d say sorry a lot when I mess up. When I was a small child and I spilled something or forget something or do something wrong, I’d say sorry. My parents would always say “Sorry doesn’t cut it. Stop saying you’re sorry when you always do this.” I’m terrified of failing and letting everyone down, so I do nothing. I am nothing. I don’t blame my parents for me being like this. I think something is just ingrained into me. Some sort of defect. That I’m just inherently broken. I don’t know. I just know it’s my fault.
It happened again. It always happens. No matter what it always happens. The small parts of my mind that hold some tiny hope that things will be different are slowly dwindling. I fucked it up again. I’m tired of it. I’m so tired. Tired of being dead weight. Tired of being nothing. I will never be anything. My mind is screaming at me to go ahead and do it. Above all else I just feel sad and angry. Angry that I couldn’t be anything else. Why does it always happen. Why. I’m so small and scared and everything is so big and complicated. I hate this. I hate everything.
Here it is again. I mentioned it earlier, but here comes the freeze. The time of year where I give up on everything and don’t move a muscle. Around this time I neglect everything and lose all motivation to do anything. It always happens around the last two months of the semester. I just feel like doing nothing. I have an assignment due by the end of the day and I’m not even a quarter done. I just don’t feel like doing it. I stare at it and stare at it, and I still feel like I don’t know what I am supposed to do. The thing is I feel no urgency about it. I feel no need to try. Yet I still stare at the problem in front of me and I don’t know why. It’s like there’s a part of me that refuses to just stop. Like it drags my deadweight corpse, struggling and panting the entire time. It takes a moment to rest every now and again, but then it gets right back up and struggles to move the other part of me along. If I really wanted to stop, I’d drop out. I’d quit college and just resign to being a failure. Probably apply for whatever job I could get and live the rest of my life doing it. But I don’t. I don’t know why, but I don’t. I was talking to some friends on discord about some stuff and the topic came to the election. A friend of mine mentioned how Biden doesn’t care about him or people like him because he contributes nothing to society. He dropped out of high school and now he plays WOW all day. Realistically, he is everything I am afraid of becoming. The way he made his life sounds, he made it out that he has no value. That he is nothing. But yet he seems happy. He seems to love being alive. Or it appears that way on the surface. Maybe he has a lot of hardships that I am unaware of. He seems like one of the happiest guys I know, but I don’t know everything about him. Regardless, it made me really sad when he talked down on himself.
It’s come again. It’s winter. I have depression year round, but I can’t help but feel a bit more frigid during the winter. It is the season where things die. I should be working on my group project right now. I’m thinking about quitting it. It’s an extracurricular thing. I’ve been useless throughout the entire process. I’ve contributed next to nothing. I just show up to the meetings and say that I’ll try and do this and that, and I never do anything worth while. I should quit, but it will be another thing I started and stopped again. Just another one of my many failures. Why can’t I be something good. Why can’t I be useful. I’ll never amount to anything. There is a meeting tomorrow and I’ll have to say again “I didn’t get anything done this week.” I should just die already. I’m not good enough. I think I want an easy life. The thing is, life isn’t easy. So what I want doesn’t exist. I’m ashamed that I want an easy life. I’m ashamed that I should be better. I will never be anything. What am I?
It’s a saying that keeps repeating in my head. It comforts me.
I had a dream last night. I can’t remember the full details, but I remember spending a lot of time with a girl in it. I can’t really remember her face, but she was a bit shorter than me and she had longish hair. Those are the only features I can remember from her. We spent our time just doing menial stuff like buying snacks from the gas station and riding a bus. I really felt like she wanted to be there with me. Like she cared about me. I remember looking at her and she had really kind eyes. I really want to hold on to that feeling. Of being with someone who cares about me. I’ve been having headaches for the past few days. It’s probably because I stopped taking my medicine. I need to keep up with that.
It rings in my mind over and over again. You’ll never be anything. When I wake up, when I go to bed, every moment of every day. I think I’m starting to think about it more than I think about her. Like the situation with her, for whatever reason, no matter how much I repeat it, saying it still constricts my heart. I feel like I should be numb to it already. That I should be able to tune it out and hear only white noise. That I should accept my own pointlessness. My nothingness. Yet, it still causes me pain. The thoughts echo in my brain 24/7.
I remember one the biggest things I was worried about in my senior year of high school was the fact that in college I would be moving into an empty apartment. I remember writing a post about how I hated my 18th birthday because of it. Now here I am. In an empty apartment. My first year of college I had to stay in the dorm and I had to get one with a roommate. I wasn’t super fond of the guy, but I didn’t hate him either. It was just a pain when he snored and when I wanted some “alone” time. Then in my second year I got my wish, an apartment to myself. I was optimistic when getting an apartment and wasn’t think about the loneliness. Overall I wasn’t too bummed out. I think it was because I had a job and I spent a lot of time working and had friends at that job. However, there were times where I would just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. But I was still a bit sane. Last year, I moved to an awful apartment. It was left in shit condition and was overall disgusting. The shower wasn’t slanted to let the water drain all the way, so dirt would just pool at the bottom of the tub. The kitchen was left in abysmal state for another reason I will get into. And the sliding door window had grime all over it. I hated it. And then there was the fact that I had a room mate. We had separate rooms, so it wasn’t that bad. The thing is, he was a very odd guy. He wasn’t a student, at least currently, so he would travel all over the state looking for work. He worked for like an oil field for a couple of months and stayed there, but for some reason he still had an apartment in town. So I would rarely see him, so I didn’t mind. However, he still left all his shit in the apartment. The fridge was filled with old food that I refused to clean out, so I never cooked. I wasn’t working then, so the loneliness really set in. Weekends would just be sleeping because I was too depressed to do anything else. This year I moved to a much better apartment. Still cheap, but a one bed room apartment. It was actually cleaned before I moved in, so that was great. I cook regularly now, but that’s probably because of quarantine. I would probably eat more on campus. I’m shit at maintaining it, so now things are a mess, but at least it’s my mess, which I could put up with. It has no furniture, so I sleep on an air mattress. Again, I don’t have a job, so weekends are bitter and lonely. The walls are thin and my neighbors are a couple, so sometimes I hear them have sex through the walls. I tend to put on headphones when this happens, but it kind of sucks when I’m woken to moaning. I mean good for them and all, but it only really heightens my loneliness. I guess this is why I decided to write this post. I often dream about opening my door and I’m greeted by someone who is happy to see me. I wonder what it would be like to lie in a bed with someone close and hold them. I want to sit at a table and eat with someone I care about. I don’t know. I’m a bit tired write now.
I don’t really have any real reason to be posting right now. I just felt like emptying out my head a little bit. This past week has been rough. I scrambled to get an assignment due on time, I keep getting awful grades on these dumb quizzes every class time. I found out all my reports have been getting low grades. Everything just seems to be sliding in a poor direction. I’m not particularly upset about it, because I don’t really have the right to be upset. I gave a shitty effort and got back shitty results. I don’t pay attention in lecture, I do things at the last minute, I’d rather sleep than work on anything. I would just rather be doing anything else. I think I mentioned before that if I didn’t make anything out of myself by 25, I would kill myself. It is 2 months until I turn 22. I don’t think I will every amount to anything. I don’t think I will ever become something I am proud of. I just think I’m nothing. Maybe that’s why I cling on so hard. I hope that maybe I could be happy in that regard and everything would be ok, but it’s rather pathetic to pin all your happiness on someone else. I can’t even give a good reason why I feel the way I do about her. It’s very hard to understand why I do that. I think the worst thing about it is how it’s unfair to her. To put her up on this odd pedestal. I think it was unfair of me to tell her about this place and who I am on here. It’s like I’m trying to guilt her or something. I mean I doubt she looks at it all that often, so most of the time I still write without any hesitation about what it is I am writing about, but in the back of my mind I sometimes wonder if I’m doing this shit subconsciously. Or maybe I’m doing it consciously since I’m bringing it up. During that period of time when she wasn’t answering for close to 3 months, that’s all I would talk about. I remember getting tired writing about it. Now she still occupies some of my brain space, even when I’m flailing at my studies and what I want to be and all this other shit. At one point you would figure that I would just stop, but for some reason I persist. I think about all those times I had certain feelings towards a girl when I was a kid and how I get through it and all it really took was just time to forget about her. Yet for some reason I can’t do that with her. I refuse to do that. I guess I just don’t know why. Even as I write this and all this other crap, I’m sure what she’s going through is so disassociated with me in the slightest. I imagine all the shit she has to put up with and all the horrible problems she has to face has nothing to do with me. I am so far removed from her life that I doubt I ever really register as a blip on her radar of things to worry about. And I mean I get it. Why would it make sense that I am anything more than some guy she talks to? I don’t know. I just felt like rambling and then it turned into another topic and then here I am. I think I started this post because I was tired of fucking grades and trying to be an engineer but now I don’t know where I went with any of this. I guess what I’m trying to say is that everything would be a lot easier if I just put a bullet in my brain.
I took a shower. I’ve been working at this assignment that’s due tomorrow. I’m just going to turn it in late. There’s nothing else really about it. I am dreading however working on this thing 24/7 for the next few days though. I think I have developed a fear of coding. I don’t know why I chose this as my minor. I realized in the shower that part of my anger and sadness comes from the fact that I don’t have anyone. I’m so isolated. So when things go sideways, like they always do, I spiral, because I have nothing. I guess a lot of folks go through this during quarantine, but the thing is that’s just my existence. Being isolated. I have no one to talk to. Nobody. Whenever I try to talk to my mom about my problems, my real and honest problems, the first thing that comes out of her mouth is “Are you taking your medicine?”. I know that taking it is important. I know that it will help me. I know I shouldn’t be stopping and starting and stopping and starting and stopping and stopping and stopping like I do. I know that. But sometimes I just want someone to listen. I just want to feel like there is someone that is there. Giving me some robo call response and then saying that’s life makes me feel so empty. Like I’m talking to a hollow shell. Like there is nothing there. I always say that I’ll amount to nothing. I honestly believe that. I’m so numb to it now though. It’s like your lost and you’ve been lost for a while and you take a turn and you see a brick wall there. And you think “Oh it’s a dead end” and you know there’s no point in turning back. Or you are too afraid to turn back or something. So instead you just sit down and stare at the wall. And you just let time slip by. It feels surprisingly numbingly nothingly numb. I feel like I am nothing. It feels painful I suppose.
I screwed up again. I messed up. The past few weeks have been mess up after mess up after mess up. I did poor on my test. I just realized I have an assignment and report due tomorrow. I’m sick of it. I’m tired. Why do I do this? Why do I bother? I’m never going to make anything out of myself. I’ll never become something. I’m nothing. So why put in the effort? I’m sick of the race. I want to bail. I always bail. I’m good for nothing, and it is what it is. I’m sick of the numbers and the grades and the applications and the internships and the plans and the worrying and the anxiety and the future and everything. I just want to be and do nothing. Fuck this. Fuck everything. I’m tired of trying. It’s not like I was any good at it anyways. I’ll never amount to anything so I should just stay as nothing.
If you still look at this place, you might want to skip this one. Although to be honest, I doubt you do. Not that you don’t care, you probably just have your own problems without adding on to it. This one isn’t about suicide. This one isn’t about depression. This one isn’t about sadness or anger or any of that. This one is just about how I don’t know. I don’t know what’s in my own head. I don’t know why I do the things I do. Is whatever this feeling is inherently selfish? There has to be a point to where all these excuses I make just stop adding up and I have to admit to myself that I just can’t let it go. That this bizarre obsession I have is just another sickness. I’m not even sad or angry that I have these feelings. I just don’t know why I have them. I mean I go to sleep thinking about her, I wake up thinking about her, I stay up at night thinking about her. Logically when I look at it, none of it should add up. We live hundreds of miles apart, there are periods where she won’t even talk to me, I know relatively little about her, in these past three years I have seen her once in person. My mind plays these little tricks on me. It tires to fill in gaps where there are none. It tries to explain why she does what she does and how she feels what she feels when to be honest it’s just really simple. It’s not that she just doesn’t care or that she hates me or anything. It’s that she has a lot of problems and she needs to focus on herself. And I am just a friend she talks to every now and again. And that’s it. Why do I buy her Christmas gifts? Why do I insist on checking up on her every few days? Why do I insist to be closer and closer to her? Why do I ask her questions about herself and try to learn everything I can about her? Why do I tell her over and over again that I understand and that I’m here for her? Not that any of these things are bad (possibly a bit creepy). I’m asking what my motivations behind it are. Is it simply just because I want to be with her or do I honestly want her to be happy? Am I just a selfish prick to try as hard as I do? To try and insert myself in her life when she just doesn’t have any room? I can’t even tell what’s in my head.
I’ve been sleeping a lot lately. Whenever there is things to be done, I simply go to sleep. It’s easier. It’s easier to close my eyes, put on a podcast and go to sleep. It’s easier to pretend there is nothing wrong and that nothing exists outside of my room. It is easier to wake up, look at the clock, then close my eyes again. It’s easier to write all this stuff down than to do anything about it. It’s simply easier. I need to take my medicine. It won’t take itself. Just because some good things have been happening for the past 2 days does not mean it can’t get worse. I hope everything is going ok. I should really do laundry. I have exactly 50.5 hours before my assignment is due. I have not begun. I’m scared and I know I shouldn’t be. I wonder what it’s like to be normal sometimes. To have it together like all those smiling faces. Oh well.
I just got off the phone with my college’s helpline. For whatever reason I thought It would make me feel better to empty my head. I usually come here for that, but I felt the need to hear a real person speaking back. I wasn’t in any particular distress. I’m actually somewhat calm right now. I have a lot of things to do, and have deadlines coming up for various things, but I spent the whole day sleeping. I just felt like sleeping, so I did. Anyways, for whatever reason I decided to call these people, just to hear someone else. This is the second time I’ve called this particular line, and the third time overall calling a line. Man though, it’s hard to take these people seriously. They have this subdued, breathy voice thing going on. Like they’re trying hard not to upset you, but it just comes off as so weird to me. Like I’m calling a weird sex line and they are trying to have this husky, sultry voice. Anyways, once I got there, I felt little to no need to talk to this guy anymore. Like when I dialed the number, I thought it would make me feel a bit better, but now it just feels creepy. So I hung up after a minute. I wanted to talk about her and how I haven’t heard from her in a bit. I wanted to tell him that I understood why she isn’t responding, but wish she was. It’s not as bad as last time, but I’m curious how long that will last. Last time it was several months of nothing. This time It’s only been a few weeks. However, I want to try and be more understanding this time. I know how hard things are for her, so I just want to be there when she comes back. I hope she comes back. If she doesn’t, then at least I saw her that one last time. I try really hard to remember what it was like to hug her, but I can’t pinpoint the sensation. I just remember holding her tight. I don’t think I’ll be making a habit of calling those lines anymore. Too creepy for my taste. I think I’ll just stick to emptying my skull here.
Chen, if on the off chance you are reading this, you probably want to skip this one. It’s embarrassing for both of us.
I love this song. Recently a friend mentioned how much she loves this series when we went to hang out. She said that the main character has relatable qualities. Anxiety, impostor’s syndrome, social issues. I wanted to feel a bit closer to her, so I decided to watch the anime. I binged it and now I am on the manga. The character is so charming and sweet. It’s hard to watch though. She has such a low opinion of herself. You just want her do do good. You want her to find some sort of happiness. It’s painful to see her have to deal with heartache and sadness. How she lost her mother and how she feels she will never be good enough. It kind of reminds me of my friend. I want her to be happy. It’s hard when I hear about the little tidbits of information she shares. How sad she is sometimes. I don’t think there is anything that I can say to make her realize that she’s amazing. I tell her what a great friend she is and how important she is to me, as embarrassing as it is. I want her to realize that she is a good person and that she does deserve to be happy. There’s a lot she has to go through, and I know she is strong. I know because if I had to deal with a fraction of what she goes through, I would snap like a twig. I just hope one day she realizes how great she is. I mean really really understand. I hope where ever she is, she’s ok.
I don’t think it’s going to go away anymore. This feeling of despair and anxiety has taken root. It will not leave me. For the next two days my college will be having a career fair. I went last year. Over the course of those two days last year, I actually felt confident about my chances. Then it came time to apply and I dragged my feet as usual and only ended up applying to around 3 or 4 of the 9 companies I talked to. None of them offered me an internship. I think the motivation for me to try and get an internship was more for the sake of not going back to my last internship I had. I remember how useless and pathetic I felt when I walked into the office. I felt infinitely tiny compared to all the big things going on. I didn’t want to go back so I needed to go somewhere else. However, now I realize that I will be infinitely small where ever I go. Each one-on-one is five minutes. I’m terrified. Why do I bother trying. I feel like nothing. I am nothing. I think I might throw up again. I did yesterday before I presented. Afterwards it took a few hours before I went back to normal. It’s very strange. In those times of peace, the feeling of fear seems so far away. In those times of anxiety and fear, the feeling of peace seems so far away. I hope I die soon. My mind just isn’t good for it.
I can feel it in the back of my throat. I’m going to throw up. I need to face the consequences. I present today and I need to face it. I can’t run. I’ll probably throw up soon. I called a suicide hotline yesterday. Never done that before. While I was getting connected, they played a jingle. I thought how odd it would be for someone holding a gun to their head or on the top floor of a parking garage to hear. She sounded for mechanical and subdued. To be fair to her, I imagine they need to find a balance. Be too “friendly” and you might come off as fake and upset the caller. Don’t talk at all and you upset the caller. I mean how do you talk to someone who desperately wants to end their life? I guess the fact that you volunteer says enough. Either way, I didn’t feel all that better after. It’s fine I guess. I just needed to hear someone, which I got.
My head still hurts a little. Whenever I get to that really panicked state of trying to find any possible way out, there’s a certain quality to the panicked head space that I didn’t feel this time around. It’s my thoughts begging me to finally be brave enough and just make this one last decision so I don’t have to make anymore. They are erratic and scared and loud and have this certain panicked feeling to them. I can’t really describe it, but it’s basically me trying to push myself as if I was someone else. Like I’m trying to do this one hard motion or push or something to finally jump. The thing is with this time around, I felt a certain despair or emptiness or calmness as well. Like the fact that I knew that I’ve been here too many times and know that I won’t do it. Like a sort of pitiful resentment about the fact that I’m here again. So instead of the erratic feeling I usually have, I have this emptiness instead. I hate myself so much. I hate how I can’t just be like my peers and excel. How I can’t just put in the effort like everyone else and not be scared. I’m scared that I won’t be anything. That I am nothing. That I am nobody. I think back at things that I accomplished or done and I can’t remember any sort of pride. I can’t ever remember feeling any sort of accomplishment. I can’t remember feeling any sort of happiness about what I’ve done. I can only feel shame and embarrassment and think that I should be better. That I can be better. That I won’t be better. That I’m incapable of being anything. I got in the shower to clean myself up I started to laugh. I couldn’t stop for a solid minute. It felt hollow and unreal, but for some reason I couldn’t stop. Like what I was laughing at wasn’t genuinely funny but I couldn’t help but laugh. I am a quitter and a nobody and a failure. I need to write this down so that I feel well.
I screwed up again. Just put it on the pile of all the other fuck ups. Also fuck Spanish. I should have said I have no interest. I should have done a lot of things. I have no idea how I could be such a fuck up when things aren’t even going on right now.