Sometimes I feel as though I'm waiting for my family to die so that I may die.
I'm really a nice guy. I just happen to have too many problems. Physical flaws, mental flaws.
No religion to cling to. I've been a non-believer for so long, that I can't even begin to believe in anything other than what can be seen and felt.
I have such a capacity to love, but an inability to show it. I love my family so much, but I can't even say it to them convincingly.
I still have enormous feelings for my first love, who I have not seen much in 7 years. She is so far away now, I have no hope for a future w/ her. Thankfully, though, memories of her now make me happy that I got to experience whole-hearted love. She is just about the only thing that cheers me up when all else I can think of is how lonely I am.
I often think of various ways to die. I have too much love and respect for my family to even consider doing it while they are still around. However, my parents are getting older. They are becoming of age where you worry about their health. I really have no means to take care of them. I can barely take care of myself.
I have no health insurance. I live with my family. The wages I make are low, barely enough to keep myself alive if I had to go it alone. I see a counselor who is of no help because he has 0 experience with social anxiety. I see him because I can't afford to go anywhere else. I don't have the means to cover the costs.
I have 0 confidence in myself. I can't even begin to approach women in the interest of attraction and love.
I get along well with my coworkers, but I can sense that they don't want to be friends. Yes, they're very friendly at work, but I just have that feeling that they really don't want to get to know me. And why not? Who wants to like someone who doesn't like him/herself? I never get invited to parties in which they attend, even though I probably wouldn't go that often because I would be the odd one. It's happened once already. I would offer for them to hang out with me, but I don't have anything to offer. A quirky, uncomfortable semi-friendship? I don't think people are interested.
It's so hard to make friends. I moved to this new place about 9 months ago, and I have 0 friends. I know my old friends like me, but only to an extent. They understand me moreso than any new people I ever meet. Some of those old friends don't even talk to me much anymore. I guess they've felt abandoned by me. But it's so hard to make people understand that it's nothing personal. I live with this social anxiety hell and it affects almost every thing I do.
When I do drugs, which is not often anymore, I do them alone. I don't want to be around people solely because of anxiety it brings. I yearn for companionship, but I shy away from it, regardless of my mental state. I was offered some methadone or heroin recently being sold at a party. I was going to buy many of the methadone pills, but I said no to the heroin. That is one thing I've never tried and I stay away from. However, the longer I live in hell, the more appealing it sounds.
I could save that heroin or those pills. And in the future my parents will pass. I will be even lonelier. I know my brother can understand if I did off myself at some point. He has gone through many of the same problems I have when he was younger. HE is happily married now, a totally changed person, and I never get to see him anymore. My parents would be devastated though and I have too much respect for my family to put them through such pain.
I'm not improving from a social anxiety perspective. I am just learning how to deal with what I have. There is no end to it. There's no finish line and it's all over.
I've been wasting away for the past 10 years. I lack the confidence to do anything good with myself, to meet a girl to fall in love with. I'm not the same person as I was as a teen. It's just been downhill.
This is how I have felt almost daily for years. The SSRI I am taking now, even if it is a false satisfaction, has actually reduced these feelings of worthlessness to a point where they occur infrequently now. However, I never stop thinking about ways to kill myself.
One day, who knows when, I just may OD on some heroin, methadone, or something similar, and take a nice long dirt nap.
I wish I could live in my dreams. The me of my dreams is so unlike the real me. It's more the opposite. More outgoing, as I was as a child and young teen. No fears, no inhibitions.
If life is but a dream, it is a nightmare for me, and one that I can never seem to wake up from.
Honestly I believe that one of my biggest fears is that if one day I did kill myself, that I would just wake up back to being myself at some point in time.
I'm really sorry to rant like this. I've just become overwhelmed tonight with loneliness and feelings of helplessness. Its so sad too I have such a capacity to love, but social anxiety is the barbed fence holding me back; a net that's holding me captive. The older I get the more I feel that death may be the release I am seeking. Sometimes I wish I had a mental illness, such as schizophrenia, just so I would have more justification for killing myself. Meanwhile, I am just biding my time, emotionally all by my lonesome, just waiting for nothing really.
I would ask god to help me, but I just can't believe. I only believe in the possibility of a god. I don't truly believe of his existence. I am the one who can save myself, but how am I supposed to do that?
Thanks for listening. I'm glad there's others like me who really understand.