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i want a way to be able to vent, but people don& #39;t try to reassure me. they just believe me. i know as a deep, concrete truth that i have no redeeming qualities. no useful skills. a shit personality. a lame sense of humor. when i& #39;m reassured it just extends the delusion.
it pulls me back to feeling like i have a reason to live, something to amount to, a purpose to fulfill. i have none of these. i& #39;m a failure, i& #39;m doomed, a lost cause. i wish so badly that i could just fade to nothing and people would leave me to do so.
i think it& #39;s utterly cruel that suicide is hard. hard to convince yourself to do, hard to do correctly. i& #39;m too afraid to try. at least it probably gives people peace of mind that i& #39;ll continue living my useless life. i really don& #39;t understand why that matters, though.
i& #39;m sick of pretending like i have a shot at life. sick of being fooled into thinking i have a shot at life. i don& #39;t. and i& #39;m sick of hiding or semi-hiding these thoughts. i& #39;m fucking miserable and it& #39;s because i& #39;m a useless, irredeemable piece of shit.
i& #39;m gonna die starving on the streets some day in the future, reflecting on all the friends i once had, and how little i did with my life. that& #39;s my destination in life. i have no motivation, or desire, or ability to make anything more out of my existence.
this is honestly how i view myself. a detriment to everything and everyone. a waste of space. and it& #39;s true, truer than any reassurances i receive, because i live through it, i live through these feelings and experiences and i know what i amount to. absolutely nothing worthwhile.
