I didn’t ask for it.
I used to be a happy little guy. In hindsight, I realize that happiness was foolish, and ignorance is bliss. I’ve become very self aware of exactly who I am, in the last year or so.
I am a realist. I am objective. This doesn’t just disappear when I’m judging myself. If I fuck up, I will make sure I know that I’m a worthless piece of shit. The truth is, I just fuck up too much. I am incompetent, annoying, ignorant, unintelligent, uninteresting, and utterly and painfully average.
I am a robot on auto-mode, going through the motions. I’m doing what everyone else is doing at my age (I’m 19)—so I feel no sense of accomplishment from doing the most basic shit, such as going to college or working. That’s what I figure “normal, productive” people do; yet, I feel like a fucking fraud.
I cheat in at least one class every semester (usually math). I am a lazy bastard, and I’d much rather cheat than learn, because I just can’t fucking learn some things. My job? Admittedly, it’s nice for my age (bank teller/salesman) but I only got because my mom happened to mention to the regional manager that I’m in school for accounting/business, and the RM was the same ethnic group as us—so he kinda gave me a shot. I’m grateful, but I feel like a fucking fraud. So I’m not proud of anything. I got lucky.
Hobbies and interests? Forget it. I have no talents, no valuable skills, nothing tangible. I play video games in my off time—I fucking suck at them, as usual. I like watching sports—but I definitely do pretend to know more about them than I actually do. I’m not funny. I’m not charming. I’m not personable, or warm and cuddly, or interesting. I am a very boring person living a very boring life. Any hobbies I attempt to start—such as guitar, or joining the gym—(I’ve tried both), it almost always ends the same way. I quit. I can’t commit. I start tasks and leave them unfinished. I am constantly lost, in a haze, and I can’t remember worth for shit. My awful memory problems make me sad and angry. I can’t even fucking remember things, what the fuck can I do?
I have one friend. He’s a great guy, but I oft wonder why he’s still friends with me. He has a ton of friends of his own. I had a friend group for a few years, but I kinda figured in the last 2 years or so, that I was being pushed out. I told myself that I’m being paranoid—I wasn’t. This past July, they basically told me they don’t want to hang out with me anymore. I couldn’t blame them. I have a penchant for creating scenes sometimes—I have anger issues off the charts that I try so hard to work on, and sometimes I get them under control, but often I don’t. I’m also very annoying, a constant nuisance, a leech.
I overthink everything, I have over-the-top reactions to perceived negativity/insults. Example: I get pretty pissed when somebody makes a snarky/snide remark to me in public, which happens to me often, probably more than the average person. I think this is because there is something inherently unlikable about me.
The only thing I can say is, I’m nice to everybody that is nice to me. I rarely hold grudges, I forgive easily, sometimes too easily. Sometimes this comes back to bite me in the ass. I’m always trying to see the good in people, and I’m always trying to give people the benefit of the doubt—because we all have problems, we all have lives, things we wish we could work on, etc.
I think I am different in those regards. I think while it’s normal to have some feelings of worthlessness, feeling like a loser is not normal unless…you are a loser. You don’t know it unless you know it. I know I am one. I doubt I’ll finish out college successfully, or ever find a decent job.
I don’t worry too much about romantic relationships—the fact that I’ve never even kissed a girl is just a small symptom of a much larger problem. The larger problem is what makes me depressed. So I always reach a point in my day where I start to self loathe, even if the rest of my day was going fine. I feel like I deserve it. I am a ducking idiot, incapable of being anything more than just “average”.
So here I am—a fraud, a chubby sack of shit, a friendless, girlfriendless, stupid piece of garbage. There’s a lot more embarrassing shit about me that I just won’t type here, because it’s going to take away from my ultimate message: that there are losers in life, and if you’re a loser like me—I guess, what I wanna say is, you’re not alone. I don’t know what the solution is. I can’t give any profound advice.
So, I’m a prisoner. Can’t kill myself, but don’t wanna live. So I guess I’ll just medicate with distractions—the weed, the sports, the games, the social media—it all just distracts me from the sad, honest truth—that I am amongst life’s losers.