My life really isn't worth living. I mean seriously. I'm one of the people who should die. I'm a 40 year old loser. I live with my parents. I have no friends. I'm terrible at my job, and I hate it. I wake up every day just wishing I were dead. I don't even really want friends or a better job, I don't want to do anything except die. I don't look forward to anything, and I don't enjoy anything. And I'm a selfish, ugly, unpleasant person.
I've been in therapy, and my therapist is very kind to me but all that happens is I see all the reasons my life is horrible, and I try to change things, but nothing changes the fact that I can't stand living.
Which begs the question - why the hell am I still here? It's simple and stupid. My parents would be upset if I died. Even more if I killed myself. I don't know how my mother would get through. I tried to kill myself when I was 20, and didn't think of that, and wish to God I had died then.
But every day is just awful. I want a terminal illness to take it out of my hands, so I don't have to feel guilty.
I tell myself every day to keep on keeping on, and I do for what it's worth, but it is SO LONELY to feel like one of the dead and be among the living.