I tried connecting with a girl today. Everything was going well until I decided to ask her for coffee. I was rejected. It's been about 10 years since I started being interested in girls and I've never once been able to make a connection with one. I've tried so many different things but there's just something wrong with my personality I think. I'm a tall guy, in good shape, and I take care of myself. I have a job and I go to school. I guess these things don't really matter though. Every external part of my life seems to be alright but they don't mean anything to me at all. I just want to connect with another person. I'm turning 24 tomorrow. I've tried to kill myself a couple times in the past, and was once committed to a psych ward for a few days, but I was too much of a coward to really do anything. As I get older, though, the cowardice is fading. Once my cowardice is gone completely I think I will probably have to kill myself. I don't even feel depression anymore. It's been so long that all I feel anymore is numbness. Indifference. Which is almost worse than sadness. At least with sadness you have some identity, some definition to your feelings. Now there's just nothing. I do cry sometimes because of my loneliness and complete inability to make a girl like me, but after I'm finished crying I go back to feeling nothing.
I guess I'm here because I'm completely desperate. I don't think I will last another year. My want for suicide has roots which are strong and deep, so I don't know if any sort of consoling words will help me anymore. Therapists just tell me to challenge my thoughts, which I've tried many times without success. I do still cry and do that silly Imagining-How-People-Will-React thing from time to time when I think about death, but nowadays my dominant thought is just repulsion at life and impatience to just die already. The world is a beautiful place and I love music and we're lucky to be alive blah blah blah I know all of that and it's all true but it's not a reason for me personally to be alive. What good is life if you don't have the capacity to share it with another person? If someone is totally alone and so far behind the curve, or if their appearance is just so off that they aren't desirable to the opposite sex, if that person is completely miserable, who's to say that they don't deserve to leave their life? Why am I not allowed to give myself relief? I honestly don't feel happiness and I never have, I don't understand people and sometimes I even hate people. Then I think about the collective suffering of the world, and the cold fact that there are so many people in the world who have such difficult lives. Lives so difficult that they can't even think about being sad because they're too busy thinking about surviving.
I'm sorry this is getting philosophical and pedantic, I guess writing helps me calm down. I'm just so fucking tired of being alive. I really just want to check out.
I guess I'm here because I'm completely desperate. I don't think I will last another year. My want for suicide has roots which are strong and deep, so I don't know if any sort of consoling words will help me anymore. Therapists just tell me to challenge my thoughts, which I've tried many times without success. I do still cry and do that silly Imagining-How-People-Will-React thing from time to time when I think about death, but nowadays my dominant thought is just repulsion at life and impatience to just die already. The world is a beautiful place and I love music and we're lucky to be alive blah blah blah I know all of that and it's all true but it's not a reason for me personally to be alive. What good is life if you don't have the capacity to share it with another person? If someone is totally alone and so far behind the curve, or if their appearance is just so off that they aren't desirable to the opposite sex, if that person is completely miserable, who's to say that they don't deserve to leave their life? Why am I not allowed to give myself relief? I honestly don't feel happiness and I never have, I don't understand people and sometimes I even hate people. Then I think about the collective suffering of the world, and the cold fact that there are so many people in the world who have such difficult lives. Lives so difficult that they can't even think about being sad because they're too busy thinking about surviving.
I'm sorry this is getting philosophical and pedantic, I guess writing helps me calm down. I'm just so fucking tired of being alive. I really just want to check out.