LIFE SUCKS

Confused, Alone, Unwelcome, Unwanted, Unloved

If anyone has the patience to read this I will be surprised. I barely have the motivation to type it.

I am uncertain of where to begin. My life is a mystery to me. Currently I feel as the title describes, which is the prevailing emotional paradigm of my life. I feel as though I have no place in this world; as if I were foreign to it--alien to it entirely. I am about 25 years-old, and am a man/guy/boy (or whatever pronoun suits your perspective), of a healthy weight, and with an athletic build. I am of average height, and am told I am attractive, a sentiment I tend to agree with for the most part. I am told I am funny, fun-loving, and fun to be around, that I am intelligent and witty, et cetera. I am agnostic, and profoundly spiritual, but not in any traditional Western sense.

Most of the evil in my life seems to have been inflicted upon me from my environment, or from my feelings toward myself. My memory is quite incomplete, but I can tell you what I do recall with a degree of mental clarity. The youngest of three, my father apparently didn't love me, or want me around. I was nearly aborted because of the pressure his family put upon my mother, but due to her own circumstances, she didn't feel she could tolerate another abortion (she had one recently before my conception). My older brother and my father had a special bond, and my sister and mother shared a similar connection with one another. It wasn't that I was entirely left out, because my mother tried very hard to make me feel welcome as an adolescent, however, the trust I placed in her was unintentionally betrayed in later years, from which I would be seemingly incapable of recovery.

They divorced when I was about 5 years of age, and my sister, mother, and myself were separated from my father and brother, a rift which was already sort of apparent before, at least on an emotional level, and was merely cemented by the physical and ideological schism. Poverty was ever present thereafter; Another boyfriend, another house or apartment, another school, new friends, and so on. My mother did her best, but years of stress made her incoherent in her efforts to provide. She became, as anyone likely would, somewhat mental. In fact, I think the lot of us did for different reasons.

The worst of it I can hardly recall. Roaches, rats, and mice aside, not bothering to deliver the details of intoxication, methamphetamine abuse, the sounds of sex seeping through the thin old walls, or anything of the like I used to see and experience in my youth, I will mention that one particular boyfriend had a massive impact, and not for the greater good, or even for my already fragile sense of security. The interactions I had with that man are more than a little difficult to discuss with even the closest of my peers, of which there are very few. Physical and psychological abuses of many kinds were absorbed by a 9-12 year-old boy, and never really processed or released since. I don't know what kind of trance he put my mother in, but she was definitely in one, because she recalls next to nothing. The only evidence of that time is my younger brother that emerged, and a few scattered photos. The man I speak of died when I was 12, from alcohol abuse, and I cried tears of joy that you would hardly believe possible by a prepubescent child. I have never cried as successfully before or since.

Turmoil continued to go on for years to come. Massive issues with the police, the military, and my humble "family" erupted over the years. I've had many jobs, and I know how to work my ass off. I am good at many things, though I admit I am a slow beginner; after awhile I show mastery of most things I put my heart into, and even of those things which I am disinterested in. The problem seems to be that I am inconsistent, erratic, flighty, etc. Most of this relates to my personal/social life. I feel like I am trapped in time, as though I never really grew up, and while this lends certain desirable traits to my overall character, there is inherent negativity to be surmised, at least by me. None of my relationships, be they intimate or only cordial, seem to last very long. I can only deduce from this that there is something terribly wrong with me, because otherwise I feel as though i would surely have met some people somewhere that could tolerate me and accept me for who I am by now.

WHAT I DO WRONG TO OTHERS (that I feel I am aware of):
I self-loath, though I do so quietly, with great effort put into concealment. Who would want to be around me if they knew how much I hated myself sometimes? I fear attachment to me by others, and to others by myself; I fear the emotional dependency and expectation that goes along with it. I seek fault in others and myself as a undoubtedly delusional form of justification for detachment, and deliberately self-sabotage, as though I could hasten the process of pain from the perceived inevitable separation between others and myself.

WHAT OTHERS DO WRONG TO ME (that I perceive):
They take me for granted, seeing me as an object for entertainment or auxiliary medium of satisfaction. They expect of me what they do not expect of themselves, and they behave hypocritically with regard to acceptable standards of behavior. Despite all of the goodness in me, the good I do for them, and the warmth I help them feel toward themselves, each other, and sometimes me, they are harshly critical of my way of being, more so even than I am of myself--AND THAT IS SAYING SOMETHING! They are this way especially when I do something wrong, or that makes them feel slightly uncomfortable, or jealous.

I feel like people are voids, vacuums that simply leech every good bit of energy from me that I am able to give--and I give it willingly, with a smile on my face, and without so much as a word of complaint, EVER. Hilariously enough, this doesn't bother me. What bothers me is that they return nothing, or so little, that I am left wondering whether or not they care about me at all, or most often, they return something negative. I do not lie, cheat or steal, and I communicate very effectively, I think. Can anyone tell me what is wrong here? Should I go out and breed like everyone else my age? Maybe if I create my own family, I will find love and fulfillment. But then, I am still unable to find even a considerate love affair on this god(s)-forsaken rock. I feel as though I am predisposed, biased in fact, and as such am unable to self analyze effectively or accurately. Enter YOU.

I feel like I have nothing to really show for myself, except for my body and mind, which may be subject to the parameters of madness.