J. B <3
Things I will never say out loud
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No, I’m not actually going to un-alive myself I’m just sad and alone
My life feels so out of place. So chaotic but boring, and lonely, and sad, and stupid. I feel like I’m just outside of my life and everyone else is somehow able to take complete control of theirs. I always kind of let life take me wherever. And yeah, I guess you don’t get far by doing that. I have an associates degree, an accounting job, I’m married, I have cats, a dog, and I have random little hobbies I enjoy. But I just can’t ever feel a connection with other people anymore. I’m no therapist, but I think it’s because I was already socially anxious about new people and then my best friend turned out to be…horrible. So why would I do that again?
I feel so alone all the time. And I do it to myself. I know it’s because I’m stupid. I don’t know how to talk with people and not be totally awkward. I wish I was normal, but I’m just not. I don’t think I would have felt totally different had I had a regular childhood, but I think I would have had a better chance at having social connections had I been able to be in public school and have a regular childhood with friends and a social circle. And not to pile on…but there was a year I wasn’t even able to go anywhere except for church. A whole year. Can you imagine that? I was so scared of meeting people after that. I was before, but after that I was so out of practice that it was just so hard. I used to sweat through my clothes when I was so nervous and that would just make me doubly embarrassed. I thought I would start over and have a shiny new social life when I was done with co-op and the kids I grew up with. But there are growing pains associated with learning new things, even socializing, and it’s just so painfully embarrassing so think back on. And I still embarrass myself all the time. At least once a week I would do something so painfully embarrassing it hurts my chest to think about. Now it feels like every time I open my mouth I say the wrong thing and I end up looking like a fool. I feel so stupid all the time. I stopped talking about myself and I hate when people ask me questions about me or my life. I just don’t want to talk about me, all I do is embarrass myself and it makes it worse when talking about me. I don’t know if I was better a year ago or if I’m just so much worse now but this year just broke me. Every day I think “I don’t have to do this anymore. I can just stop. Anytime I want” and it’s so so comforting. I get so angry when I think of the affects of un-aliving myself. Why is it fair that I should stay here and unhappy and crying every single day for the same people that don’t text me back, don’t care to invite me to any family events for years, don’t care if they see me for months? And that’s all my fault and fair to do to me…because I don’t have Facebook. Facebook feels like it’s just another social space to potentially embarrass myself on, so I don’t want it. I knew early on it was too much for me. I think I deleted it at 15. I guess I’ve always known I was a little different, even if I couldn’t even articulate it properly back then.
It feels painful to even talk about because this is what hurts the most right now, but I guess why not. It’s so hard at work right now. I’m either saying something totally wrong and embarrassing or I am too quiet. I say sorry too much. I look too young yet not pretty enough. I don’t know how to dress. I feel like I don’t know how to connect with people when I am not in the same or similar age groups. I have too many random anxieties to be normal. And then after I embarrass myself all day…I have to go back and do it again. Every. Single. Day.
That’s the worst part because it’s a good job. I feel like I do a good job. But I’m a weirdo. Just like I’ve always been everywhere I’ve ever been. I would rather be dead than continue to be the weirdo who eats too little, but isn’t pretty, says weird things, doesn’t talk enough, drinks and eats the same thing every day.
And honestly I just want to sleep. If I could just sleep for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t even know what I was missing, right? It would be fine.
I don’t know what else to say, I guess that every single category of my life isn’t going well anymore. I’ve always had at least one be fine with the rest kind of a dumpster fire. But I feel like I’m honestly nothing at this point. I offer nothing, I receive nothing…If I wasn’t married and I ceased to exist, no one would know for so long. Sometimes I think it through. Would it be missing work? What if I died after I got home on a Friday? Would it be Monday that they found out I died? What if I took a vacation, but died before? Who would know then? Probably no one. Probably just my cat. When I was a teenager I decided I needed to stay alive because the thought of how little people would come to my funeral was so embarrassing. That never really changed, it’s still really embarrassing how few people would turn up. Family I don’t talk to, I guess. Maybe a couple friends? Who would be sad, but more of a morbid mortality reality check, more than anything. It’s a weird feeling knowing you don’t matter. I’ve always had the inner thoughts like I don’t really matter, but I knew some people loved me and liked me and that was enough. But something lately changed. I feel it everywhere in my body, in my bones, it’s always in my head, which just feels like constant TV static at this point. Every time I smile I’m wondering if I even remember how to do it correctly. Am I convincing? Does it reach my eyes? Can they see that I just want to die?
Sometimes people are very empathetic and can feel when people have intense emotions. Every time I get to work and sit down I wonder “does anyone know they’re around someone that is just looking for an excuse? Any reason to never exist again?” Probably not. I’m written off in my box as a weirdo. Cause that’s all I am anyway. Sometimes I just stare out into space thinking about how hollow my head feels, and I wonder how my eyes look. Do I even look happy? Even when I try? Is it me? Is it just my life right now? My life is no one’s fault but my own, I mean, I could have done everything different. But nothing is inherently wrong with my life. It’s not a bad life. I’m just not happy. I’m really not anything. The only emotion I really feel is embarrassment. Just for being alive, I guess. It’s just embarrassing to be me.