I live in the middle of no-whereton and I hate my life. I'm older than I should be, living with my parents, no friends, and I haven't even considered a romantic relationship in over six years. I have aquaintances, but I have so little in common with anyone around me that I can't seem to develope any of them into actual friendship. The major reason for this is that I suffer from crippling social phobia, major depression, and I think possibly peraniod schizophrenia. I percieve everyone as talking bad about me when they don't think I can hear them. No one I know will maintain any kind of eye contact with me. I become overwhelmed with my dispair to the point that it develops into rage where I break things. Not intentionally, just as a result of my lashing out. Every morning I wake up and dread living. I've been suicidal since I was 12 years old, but I can never go through with it. Not because I decide to carry on with life, but because I just can't bring myself to leave behind the family that hates me, but would miss me and blame themselves.
So I withdraw in hopes that people will eventually forget about me and I can die in peace, but then I decide to start saying goodbye and re-emerge for a while.
The thing is, that regardless of anything in my situation, I would be miserable. It doesn't help to know this though. If I had a thousand great friends, an actual job, and a loving, devoted, beautiful girlfriend I would be miserable; and my misery keeps me from pursueing and aquiring these things. I'm trapped in my own fear and misery. I've been to therapists and they offer no help. I took meds and they only messed me up in other areas.
I recently lost a lot of wieght and started lifting wieghts. Now I'm attractive and miserable.
What's worse is that I started cooking for therapy, decided to get classical training and pursue a career that might offer some sense of fulfillment. Then my father, who has done his best to make me feel like horseshit my entire life opens a restraunt that is a complete embarressment. My teachers and peers now associate me with the coarsest, low quality food that I'm forced to smile and push as it is still my family and I need to support them. In addition, I'm expected to make desserts that live up to my training without any of the ingredients or equiptment that I require- largly because my father insists we sell them for less than anyone else in town. So I'm making pecan pie with oatmeal because it's cheap and then I have to smile and cheerily offer it to my teacher-chefs who have taught me everything I know and expect them not to look down on me?
I'm trapped in zombie town, the entirity of the population are mindless drones and those who aren't won't have anything to do with me because I'm Bill Murray in Zombieland.
No one, not really even my therapist knows all of this. I do my best to go through every day with a big happy smile trying to fake it till I feel it. Fifteen years... I'm not feeling it. I still want to kill myself just so I won't be trapped anymore. I feel like the wild animal that runs against the wall of its cage over and over again until it cracks its own skull trying to get out. | |
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