Monday, December 20, 2010
I don’t know who I am anymore. Not really. I used to know exactly who I was and exactly what I wanted to do with my life. I was so sure of myself. I was witty and sarcastic. I was smart or at least tried really hard to be. I was motivated. I was different and proud of it. Today I’m none of those things. Today I feel like nothing. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where I’m going or how I’ll get there. I don’t recognize the person looking back at me in the bathroom mirror. I don’t look like myself physically or mentally. This person looking back at me is not really me. I am trapped inside somewhere. I’m just a passenger along for the ride.
I am nobody without a plan for success. Every plan I have tried as an adult has failed. I have failed. I’m not good at being an adult. I was good at being a child and a teenager. I was successful as a child and a failure as an adult. I was so resilient and strong before 18. I worked hard and never felt sorry for myself. Today I feel so weak and irrelevant. I feel like a waste of space and oxygen.
I feel so stunted in life. I feel like such a failure. My childhood is such a waste. I suffered for nothing. I wanted to become someone powerful and influential so I could say fuck you to my childhood. “Look what I did despite you!” That fantasy died with vet school and since then I’ve just been floating aimlessly in life, latching onto ideas here and there, but not for very long. I think this blog might be the idea I’ve stayed with the longest lately and it’s just self indulgent drivel that I’m surprised other people read.
Why am I alive? What purpose does my life serve? I’m not ever going to be powerful and influential. I’m not ever going to make a difference in the world. I’m not ever going to be someone important. Why would someone like me ever be born? It just seems like a cruel joke. My life is not worth it. I’m not worth it. Sometimes I just really don’t want to be here. I’m not suicidal so please think I’m going to hurt myself. I won’t. I would never do that to my amazing gf or my animals. I don’t know how or why she’s stayed with me for so long. It only works because I keep her at a distance to protect her. She doesn’t need to know about what I carry around. It’s too heavy to unload on her although I know if/when she reads this she'll say she can handle it. I’m just so tired of hurting. I’m tired of pretending that there is someone worth knowing underneath all of this, but there really isn’t anything else in here. I want to be more, but I’m just this. Nothing.