du2497
Member
- Mar 17, 2020
- 37
I've told myself that there's really no reason to stay alive other than it would destroy my mother, but even that seems to be losing its strength as a reason to stay alive. It is my honest belief that fundamentally there's no reason for me to live anymore. There's no career, no social life, no relationship or intimacy for nine years (the only reason I ever had a girlfriend is she approached me, who I later found out from a friend was cheating on me while we were together), nothing I'm good at. I honestly think it's impossible for me to be good at anything, everything fails. Even things that are supposed to be entertaining (videogames). I find myself getting my ass kicked constantly in online shooters. People say to practice which is fair enough, but I think I'm just genetically flawed, my aim and reaction time sucks. Regardless of videogames or not, my best is other people's average it seems. I was taking a test for a "basic" IT certification (A+, your standard entry point), I thought I knew it backwards, I barely passed. It's just been a repeating pattern of seeing others be successful, seemingly tripping over a method to make money or be "social", while I just beat myself up constantly for not being even average. I don't get it, I really don't.
Socializing is a nightmare, I prefer to be alone. I've had trauma and bullying in my life, neither helped by the fact that my stepfather just egged me on constantly to be social growing up, not understand why I actively pushed against it. My biological father left early on, and moving around different countries did not help either. I get anxiety even waiting for the train, doesn't even have to be talking to a girl or whatever, just people's presence is enough. I take medication for it, but medication doesn't help with lack of charisma or being interesting or making the first move as it were. I was very naïve at a new school, wanting to make friends and acting like I knew them already and was promptly "corrected" for my mistake. Thankfully no physical bullying, but lots of verbal attacks. Looking back, I wish I had gotten into fights with the pricks, that whole "turn the other cheek" stuff never works. The bully gets a slap on the wrist because they don't care, and I get to cry myself to sleep.
All of this is multiplied by the fact that I'm 30. Still living with my parents, even though I did live separately for for a few years at 23. Still, the reminder that I'm a failure, even back then, landed me (voluntarily, at the behest of my therapist at the time) in a hospital. It was the third time at that point for suicidal ideation. Pummel me full of medication (which at one point was Risperdal, go figure), and release me. Rinse repeat. I'm honestly just tired of it all. I don't care anymore.
Socializing is a nightmare, I prefer to be alone. I've had trauma and bullying in my life, neither helped by the fact that my stepfather just egged me on constantly to be social growing up, not understand why I actively pushed against it. My biological father left early on, and moving around different countries did not help either. I get anxiety even waiting for the train, doesn't even have to be talking to a girl or whatever, just people's presence is enough. I take medication for it, but medication doesn't help with lack of charisma or being interesting or making the first move as it were. I was very naïve at a new school, wanting to make friends and acting like I knew them already and was promptly "corrected" for my mistake. Thankfully no physical bullying, but lots of verbal attacks. Looking back, I wish I had gotten into fights with the pricks, that whole "turn the other cheek" stuff never works. The bully gets a slap on the wrist because they don't care, and I get to cry myself to sleep.
All of this is multiplied by the fact that I'm 30. Still living with my parents, even though I did live separately for for a few years at 23. Still, the reminder that I'm a failure, even back then, landed me (voluntarily, at the behest of my therapist at the time) in a hospital. It was the third time at that point for suicidal ideation. Pummel me full of medication (which at one point was Risperdal, go figure), and release me. Rinse repeat. I'm honestly just tired of it all. I don't care anymore.
