I am not looking for a pity party, I just want to rant.
I am 30 fucking years old, with no friends, no husband and no kids. Some people think that’s a good thing, but it is not. It truly isn’t. Not for me. Not when I live alone and have no pets to cuddle with. Not when I don’t have friends that care enough about me. My friends, my family, they stray away from me. It’s okay when other people or family members are having a rough time and they get all of the attention, but I get none. I’m expected to just deal with it. To let it go. But having depression since I was 13, it will never work that way.
All my friends have husbands and have children. They say that they will hang out with me, but then do not follow through. I have no problem with children. I tell them to bring their kids along and then I get no response or if I do get one, it’s always an excuse. Yeah, I know that I am supposed to be putting myself in their shoes, but they never want to put themselves in mine.
I am not a party person. Hell, I can hardly drink a whole beer. I don’t like the way most alcohol tastes and I prefer to not have an acid reflux problem for days on end. I don’t smoke and I don’t smoke weed. For the two times that I have done it, I did not like how it made me feel and I did not like how it burned my throat and chest. Granted I am for it when it comes to those who need it for pain, but for me, it did not help me one bit. It only suppressed my anxiety for two hours and then I could not sleep. But then again, I was with someone who wasn’t a very good person when I had smoked it for the very first time.
I can sing, but no one thinks that I am good enough and I’m sure that my neighbors get annoyed when they hear me. But I like to do it, even if I’m off key.
I can write and some of my friends claim that I am a good writer, but once I start to share with people outside of my group, I get ignored and it makes me feel like I’m being lied to by my friends. That it’s not worth doing. Just like my sister told me years ago, that it’s not a realistic thing to do for a job.
I can’t dance.
I like taking pictures, but I have no way to travel or buy the right equipment, so I’m reduced to the camera on my shitty phone.
I have no talents. Nothing that will get me a job with a good pay. I get irritated a lot, I am struggling with patience every damn day and I feel like it’s not worth living any more. I feel like a waste of space and cannot for the life of me, figure out why God put me here. I’m not saving any lives, I’m not going out to war, I’m not producing children of my own; I’m not a teacher, a doctor or a nurse and I certainly do not have the patience to care for the elderly.
I’m not gorgeous and I never feel beautiful. I have small breasts and an uncontrollable un-proportioned body. When I get compliments, I shrug them off because I feel that people are only trying to be nice to save face, so others don’t think that they are bad people. I’m being told that I am being self-destructive when I think like this, but how can I not be when my friends and family don’t want to be around me and I cannot get a man to be with me more than just sex?! And before anyone tells me that is my problem, I HAVE withheld the option of sex from men and still they walk away from me.
Be patient. Your time will come.
I hear this all the fucking time, but remember, I have no patience. And when I do, it’s very small because this happens to me all of the time. It is another reason why I question with why God put me here on Earth. Why I feel like nothing good will ever happen to me. I am still amazed that I am living in the same apartment for almost five years now. But I still don’t have a car or my license. I walk around to everywhere I need to go. At least I am getting some exercise, so that is a plus.
I wish there was a way to not get so stressed out when I do get a job, so that I don’t feel like my brain is collapsing after three months. It isn’t a good thing and it is why I haven’t ever been able to hold a job after a few months, some jobs I made it past two years, but only because I was somehow able to be friendly with the people that I worked with.
I sound smarter when I write, but when I open my mouth, nothing ever makes sense. And I hate that. It has been like this for as long as I have been alive, but recently I have noticed it more and more and it bothers me a lot. I’ve been told to go take classes for this sort of thing, but when you get social anxiety, there’s no point in going.
Jealousy ensues when I see girls that I have befriended online going out to meet their favorite actors, and I try to be happy for them, but I get down and out because I don’t really get the opportunity to do so. With the one time I was able to meet someone, I was stoked to have met him and be able to talk to him about my writing, but eventually it wore off and I became depressed once again. And then months pass and the same girls post more photos with the people that they have met and they keep doing it every few months or so, which brings me down a lot. I don’t mean to make them upset that I am saying this, I’m not trying to make them feel like shit for saying so, but it’s also not fair that they rub it in my face. I’m sitting here, living on my own, paying my own bills and wonder how in the hell do they afford these cons every freaking time?!
And a loop around……..
I can’t sew, cook or bake. I can’t draw or paint and this makes me feel like I am nothing. I’m not a makeup artist and I definitely cannot make movies. I’m just simply sitting here, every day, job or no job, doing nothing.
Earlier this week I got amped to have my own business, selling posters and vintage video games and a few other items, but after looking into a few things and having a day to calm down for a bit before I would go talk to my stepfather about it, I became depressed once again. And it led me to write this.
But I do not expect people to read this. Why should I when the same shit will happen over and over again? I am sure that I will lose some friends over this, but if I do not, then it would be a miracle. Everything has become a vicious circle and I’m not finding an end to this. There is no door to walk through no matter how many times I have tried to escape, no matter how many times I pray for a way out. There is simply a room that I am trapped in and eventually the oxygen will wear out.
I have sought out help with my doctors, but no one has helped me. They kept saying that they will but they have not. I’ve tried to get counseling, but get pushed onto the back burner because I’m not diagnosed with anything. I feel that there is no chance at getting better.
I guess until I am led to the right door, I’m just going to sit here and do what I’ve been doing every day. Fill out applications for a new job in this shitty place I call my home town, watch videos on YouTube to pass the time and sometimes write a new chapter on my fanfics or on one of the many stories I have tried to finish. Eat a little, sleep a lot, listen to other people’s problems and help them sort it out. Cause this is all I am ever good for.
This is my life, living with depression.