Venting The gritting (of teeth)

[s00ngone]

Even helping kids isn't enough. I leave my ABA job exhausted not because it's objectively that tiring (there could be much more draining demands on me than "play with a kid for 2 and a half hours and try to hit behavioral goals") but because the entire time I'm thinking about how badly I want to be over with this life.

I disgust myself. I look at all this, the way the day is so normal, that lives are going on, that Shayan is at work and my cousins and aunts and extended family are all living their own lives completely unaware of this personal hell I'm in...

I'm pathetic. And I know this isn't the place to go to disprove that, ha. I've already dug my feet in about it enough to not want to be proven wrong, I guess.

 

[MercenariesofMidgar]

As a pathetic freak, I always enjoy your updates, friend. I hope something in life happens soon that helps you life your head up

 

[s00ngone]

Doesn't help I couldn't think anything but sex flashbacks on the drive here.

It's absurd. I don't want to think of myself as a shallow, sex-obsessed person, but it's the only thing that feels real. Being so dissociated from every other aspect of life, all I can think about is the bottle of lube and how it felt to use it. To shower together. For his eyes to roll back.

I'm disgusting. I want to kill myself, leave my sister and mother and father behind, and this is where my mind is at? Disgrace. Reducible to atoms. Like I never cared at all. I know I did but in some distorted, unrealistic way that's a sorry excuse for love.

And the truth is, I don't even feel that strongly about myself, not really - not in an embodied, visceral way. Not anymore. Not since the chaos of the dissociative veil subsided and life was laid bare. Not since... I don't know. I was never gonna be somebody. Just hurts to know in my bones.

 

[MercenariesofMidgar]

Doesn't help I couldn't think anything but sex flashbacks on the drive here.

It's absurd. I don't want to think of myself as a shallow, sex-obsessed person, but it's the only thing that feels real. Being so dissociated from every other aspect of life, all I can think about is the bottle of lube and how it felt to use it. To shower together. For his eyes to roll back.

I'm disgusting. I want to kill myself, leave my sister and mother and father behind, and this is where my mind is at? Disgrace. Reducible to atoms. Like I never cared at all. I know I did but in some distorted, unrealistic way that's a sorry excuse for love.

And the truth is, I don't even feel that strongly about myself, not really - not in an embodied, visceral way. Not anymore. Not since the chaos of the dissociative veil subsided and life was laid bare. Not since... I don't know. I was never gonna be somebody. Just hurts to know in my bones.

We are all victims of our sin... we are animals with high cognition, not intelligent beings, if that makes sense..................
Though all of what you've said reminds me of myself and how I think eerily... Well I still suffer with lust but in different ways... I've never even held hands with a woman before. I'll accept I'm unlovable... though i am alone i have become comforted by the loneliness. It makes me happy, smile, for all the wrong reasons... Warm, but never from the warmth and love of another