…and the point is?
I matter none. Out of the billions of people on this earth this is a very tiny percentage that give a shit about whether or not I am here. Tonight I sat in a bar full of people that were laughing, talking and enjoys the company of others and there I sat alone. At first I blamed it on the fact that I moved to a new place where I know noone. But then I realized that even had I stayed where I was this would be the same scenario. I lived in Tahoe for almost seven years and for most of them I was excruciatingly lonely, hell I lived in Vermont for 23 years and felt painfully alone since I was 15. It is clearly just my lot in life, regardless of what beautiful place I run to, I will always feel alone and isolated.
So what I am trying to figure out is what the hell is the point? It’s been 15 years that I have been thinking about ending my life. I will not deny that there have been plenty of times in those 15 years that I really, truly loved being alive. I have traveled to amazing places and met incredible people. I have laughed until I cried and loved unconditionally but below the surface I have always felt the same. I have always felt as though I should not be alive and resented the fact that I am.
I fantasize about my death the way most women fantasize about their weddings. I use to also think about my wedding day, but eventually those thoughts got over run by reality. I have prayed to God to have something happen naturally that would take my life, this way no one would have to feel bad or worry that they should have done something. When I’m out running I think about a Mountain Lion attack, I just hope that they really do attack from behind, I don’t want to know it’s coming. When I’ve been on plans that encounter bad turbulence there is a little part of me that is hopeful, I put on my favorite music and settle in for the end. I dream of meteors, rabid dogs, fallen trees, anything that would take the responsibility off of me. But alas here I am going into my 31st year without so much as a severe illness. I know if sounds awful to wish for these things when there are so many people who have to deal with these tragedies every day but it’s just the truth. I no longer want to live but I do not want to end my own life because as much pain as I would hate for my family to feel any pain.
So where does that leave me? Unhappy but unable to do anything. I push myself everyday to make the most out of life. I move, I grow, I learn and I change and yet here I am, day dreaming about my early demise. In many ways I have come so far and yet I am still me, I am still the depressed girl who can’t imagine life ever getting any better. The rational part of me knows that it’s all due to the chemical imbalance in my brain, but the emotional part of me just thinks I’m being punished for something that I may have done in a past life. I must have been truly horrible to hate myself and my existent this much. But I do, and there is nothing I can do about it. I have a wonderful family and incredible friends and yet I am profoundly lonely all the time. And loney is how I shall stay, because how could I ever expect to be loved when I would give anything to have my life taken away? I don’t foresee anything changing, to be perfectly honest there isn’t even a point to vocalizing it because I’m just stuck in life. A shallow, self serving existence that doesn’t benefit anyone and that I have no desire to live.