Hmmmm… My choices in life: either be a pathetic little crybaby that was annoying as Hell due to hyperactivity issues and poor impulse control that people only grudgingly liked; someone who only wanted to have friends in life, but constantly failed to actually be friends with others or make friends out of them, i.e. friends are people that actually openly give a shit about you, which none of my ‘friends’ really do. I think they do it more to ease their own guilt and their own suffering for not having any true friends than because they actually give a shit; or, I could someone that’s confident and secure in who he is that has no friends and nobody that truly cares about him who at least doesn’t fall back down the well of self-pity, but still can’t express himself properly, still ostracizes himself by being obviously superior to others without even wanting to exert superiority over them and does so anyway, proving that he’s better and further making people fucking hate him.
I might want to die, I don’t know anymore. Too caught up in trying to actually live my life after spending the first 20 years of it dead on the inside and the next 8-9 years crawling out of that. I know dying would be less of an inconvenience, but I worked so damn hard on this already that I just don’t want to give up again after actually succeeding.
I’m afraid that if I ever hook up with a woman and we start having a relationship that I’ll just be this insufferable know-it-all that always has to be right and make her hate my fucking guts and push me away over time; or worse yet, it’ll be just this constant fucking fight throughout all the time we’re together until one of us dies and the other realizes just how lonely they are and wishes that things could have been different. I’m worried that the woman that I am trying to love through all of this adversity I’m going through may not even be interested in me because while I’ve come to accept my own string-bean body no matter how much I would rather have been a musclebound freak, I know women are a lot more turned on by musclebound freaks. And, that makes me sad.
I’m also worried that after a certain point, after putting in so much hard work just to be able to love someone constantly through all of the hardships and everything else, that it will simply be a just going through the motions type of thing, even if I’m able to keep my end of the romance thing up, would she even want to, and if she’s highly intelligent like me, might think it’s just a stupid mechanism to keep her interested in me, as if I’m manipulating her interests. And maybe I would be, at that point. Just going out of my way to do what I always wanted to do for someone just to satisfy my need and desire to be loved and enough so to the point where I actually love another person with quality effort just to be loved.
And, I never used to think like that, and that would have once made me depressed as fuck, but now I’m supposedly better able to handle it, more confident in myself and have gotten the ball rolling from I-don’t-want-to-die to I-want-to-live, and these are the sack-of-shit thoughts that I have to deal with that seemingly go along with it.
So, I think I want to die, but I don’t because there’s something keeping me going and it’s really pissing me off that it waited until I didn’t want to die anymore to spring all of this on me and try to make me believe they’re my own twisted thoughts, that this is how I actually am, when I never used to actually be those things. And, I really fucking hate it.