My parents deserved a much better son than me. They were really the greatest parents i could have asked for. My mom was the nicest and most lovable woman ever, she would always do everything to make me and my sisters, and everybody else really, feel at ease and loved. My dad was super smart, he could fix anything, not only material things, but also socially. Everytime there was some arguing going on in the family, he was the one the others would call to solve it. He was also very friendly, he could talk and make friends with anyone very easily. I could never be 1/10 of the man he was.
Yet, for some reason, these wonderful people had me. I am 29, completely useless, no qualities, goals, desires, or anything. Everything i tried all my life has not worked out. There isn’t anything i want to do anymore. Everything i once liked has gone bland now. I liked music, and i was actually okay at playing when i was younger, but now if i pick up my bass for 5 minutes it just feels meh. Academically, i am a case of falling upwards. Somehow i have managed to start a masters degree despite not realy knowing what i am doing and now it’s catching up to me. Like with music, i was fascinated by sciences, but now it’s just another thing that i cannot really be bothered with. I am jobless, and if not for my sister giving me a job at her pizza restaurant on the weekends, i would be living under a bridge. They did not really need any help though, she just did that to help me. Here i am at almost 30 still leeching off of my big sisters like the useless little brother i have always been. I also never had a girlfriend. Hell, being completely honest, i would still be a virgin if i hadn’t paid for sex a few times, and each of those times only made me feel much worse. I don’t blame women though, there isn’t really anything to like about me. On top of everything i said above, i’m also not funny, dull and ugly. And a cunt. I am a complete opposite of my dad. On the rare occasion when i talk to someone, at least half of what i say is aggresive or hurtful in some way. I lose my temper very quickly and almost always end up in a corner sulking alone. Actualy, sulking is the only feeling i sometimes feel. Other than that, it’s just emptiness.
And that’s it. I give up. I’m tired of being this souless, upleasant, dumb, idiotic piece of garbage, but i am also too weak and uncapable of getting better. Now all i wish for is a moment of courage so i can jump in front of a train and end this shit called me.
Thank you for posting and taking a step of being open to what you are truly feeling about your life right now. Your parents sound like they are/were the greatest parents you could ask for who… guess what birthed an awesome 29 year old son. At this time man things sound really tough for you, especially due during COV-ID makes things more difficult to find a job and keep up with hobbies.
My heart breaks for how you are suffering and right now i want to be that one person that picks you up, hugs you, and sits there with you as you are feeling all these things. I have been in the same spot you have been…lost all hope, too weak to care, and just feeling completely empty. Do you have a close friend that you can spend a little time with to sit with them and pour out?
Please keep safe friend, keep reaching out on here, and have courage for you are loved. We are all here to help you hold fast.
EF
Hey friend,
For some reasons, your message resonates a lot with what my brother went through at the same age as yours. As his little sister I knew he went through a lot, mostly by himself. He gave up on studies pretty soon, felt like he didn’t belong anywhere, like he was a failure to us and our parents. He gave up on his passion for tennis as well, he didn’t have any real relationship with someone - except to be rejected once, he had little jobs thanks to our dad. As a result, he spent a lot of time on his own, isolated himself a lot, lived in an unhealthy environment and didn’t care of himself. His relationship with our dad was also really difficult. He saw him as someone who succeeded and was strong while he perceived himself as being useless. So they often had arguments, they didn’t really understand each other. Until my brother decided to reach out to him, privately. He hadn’t filed a tax return for years and was about to have real struggles, so my dad helped him to regularize his situation. Fortunately, it got better on the financial part, but what was important is that: he reached out. He asked for help. Even though it was really hard for him, their conversation wasn’t just about his tax issues, it was also about him, his life, how he was feeling.
By sharing this, my point is: there are always different perspectives to have. But you might need others to enter your life, to see your vulnerability as we do here, and be part of this journey with you, with only love and respect. The way we see ourselves while we are struggling is likely to be highly negative, if not destructive. When I’m in pain, I’m not a good friend to myself. I count my failures, I see all the things I don’t have, I’m drowning in pain, I say that I’m a burden, a waste of oxygen, and I wish with all my heart that I could give this life to anyone else, as anyone else would be worth this air I’m breathing. But another part of my mind knows how this one works. I know that what feels true to me at the moment might not be an overall truth. There is a reasonable doubt, because circumstances bring those feelings and thoughts about myself. Which is also why I think that reaching out and asking for help is incredibly brave and valuable. Whether it’s to your family, friends or a counselor. It requires strength to say: well, how I feel now is very intense and deep, but I’m willing to challenge it by receiving the help of others who care about me or want the best for me. You just did it by sharing your heart here. It’s huge. You just opened a door to let this community listen and support you while it might go against what you deeply believe about yourself. What a beautiful mark of strength, friend. Maybe it’s nothing to you. Maybe it was impulsive, really needed because you were feeling at the end of your rope. But I hear you. I hear this vitality in your message. Despite the exhaustion, the disappointment, the tiredness.
Another perspective is always possible, friend. It doesn’t make how you feel less valid, but real enough to be challenged. My brother, for example, wasn’t seeing himself through the eyes of the people who loved him. The fact that he was unemployed or doing unsatisfying jobs, that he was ashamed of himself and where he lived, that he gave up on studies, that he wasn’t in love with someone, never stopped me to see him as being incredibly kind, loving, generous, intelligent, funny, reassuring and strong, so much more than he ever thought. His living situation never stopped me from caring about him and wished him to be happy. And I think, just for you, just for so many people in this world, that it requires a lot of strength to face those hurtful things that we might think about ourselves. It’s not comfortable to do that. Yet again, you are here with us. This has to be acknowledged, respected and valued.
You are strong, friend. Your pain is not invisible. It is not unsaid. It is not unknown. Because you are here and sharing this expression of your heart as it was when you posted. Your vulnerability is strength. It is a sword against those lies you’ve been living with for so long. You are not useless, a failure, weak, a piece of garbage or all those awful things. But it sounds like you’ve been used to believe it for a long time, and maybe you didn’t have people around you telling you, or showing you, something different.
There is life inside of you. There is no social standard that will take it away from you. And you don’t have to be like your dad to be you. It’s true that you will never be him, but only because you are two different people. And as much as your dad can be an inspiring person to you, maybe even a role model, being you is always enough.
Maybe you’ve lost your way during this crazy journey called life and you’ve been wondering who you are. For what it’s worth, I think that’s something that most of us face at some point. We sit at crossroads and we ask ourselves: what did I accomplish until now? Where am I heading to? If this life is not how I want it to be, what could be my next healthy move? How to reach my goals? How to regain some peace in my heart and heal, so I could live the life I deserve?
It’s all about reframing your thoughts, progressively. Which doesn’t invalidate how you feel; but help you sort healthier conclusions out of it. You are not a failure. You are disappointed for what you didn’t reach… yet (just three letters, but important ones). And it’s absolutely normal to feel this way if you are looking for something different, something more. What a powerful moment to be aware of the things that are not fulfilling to you right now. A painful one, trust me I am aware of that. And I wish I could take that pain away from you friend. But this is also your fuel. There is potential in being aware of what might need to change. Which is not you, but circumstances.
Your message is not just one of someone who is tired. It is also about wanting more and needing more in this life. It is your right to claim it. But this life needs you to get there. There is so much potential in you. A voice that needs to be heard. A heart that has to express himself. A soul to nurture with love, care, passion. So, what could be your next step?
You are seen, loved and cared for. Sincerely. You have faced some of your worst days and that is something you can be proud of. You didn’t lose your time. It brought you here. And hopefully, to a nurturing season of self-reflection. You are not a waste, friend. Please don’t give in to those hurtful things you believe about yourself. I don’t have to know you personally to know that it is far from being true. But I’m also aware that life can be incredibly hard and a lot of circumstances can bring us to believe those things. Yet you are so much more. Really. And we’re here to support you.
Hold fast. 
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