So I have no friends in real life now. Within the last year I've managed to alienate everyone that I know and become a serious recluse. I've stopped going to bars, stopped going to shows, and generally stopped doing anything that requires being outside. My fear of being ridiculed and scrutinized has consumed me so much that I'm even afraid to check my mail (and the box is next to my front door). I've lost everyone that has mattered to me and I'm pretty sure my wife is cheating on me. All I do is go to work (and I don't leave my desk all day unless I have to use the bathroom), come home, and drink until I pass out. I've half-written this post for the past two or three months but have been afraid of being a whiney piece of shit. I mean seriously... I'm 28 years old and I still don't have it together. I'm still that stupid little kid who hid from everyone by running to the empty part of the library for every break in school. I'm so freaked out about talking to anyone that I've managed to ruin everyone relationship I've had. I'm pretty sure the only reason my wife even stuck with me this long is because she felt sorry for me or thought she couldn't do any better. I just don't know why I can't get my life together. Why can't I just be normal and speak to people like everyone else on this planet?
I've tried to kill myself twice in my lifetime and I've been wondering lately if maybe I shouldn't have tried harder. I wouldn't do it now though because... I don't know.
I've always thought that my older brother should have lived instead of me. I was told time and time again by my parents that they missed him and that they think he would have done great things with his life so I can only assume he would have made something more of himself than I did.
Not a day goes by that I don't think the wrong person died.
The wrong brother died.
I've tried to kill myself twice in my lifetime and I've been wondering lately if maybe I shouldn't have tried harder. I wouldn't do it now though because... I don't know.
I've always thought that my older brother should have lived instead of me. I was told time and time again by my parents that they missed him and that they think he would have done great things with his life so I can only assume he would have made something more of himself than I did.
Not a day goes by that I don't think the wrong person died.
The wrong brother died.
I'm just slowly now trying to get over it. Forcing myself to go to the store, after 3 hours of getting ready and checking my shoes 50 times to make sure theres nothing stuck to them etc... and I just now asked my doctor for some medications. I never thought I was that bad that I needed it. Now I realize that it's okay. I'm not weird and lots of people have problems like me, but it is something that I needed to ask for help with. This was not something I could just keep inside for the rest of my life. It would ruin me more that it had already.
I still don't know how to act in front of people. I wear my heart on my sleeve and trust people off the bat before getting to know them. I have such faith in people its humiliating sometimes. But I'd rather put my faith in good people then to be a bitter old women and die young and unhappy.
That came out of no where...sorry. ha
I meant to say, I still don't know why I want to get on meds and meet people, go out, have fun, enjoy life...when there's always such a shitty downfall while doing it....but I do the pros and cons and think..okay, shit happens. I'm not going to let them or the situation fuck up MY life. I'm fucking weird, and I have issues....deal with it.
We should do lunch sometime. We'll be the odd ones in awkward silence in the corner of the cafe thinking people are looking at us.