Reflection from October 4th, 2008 @ Age 27
RE: TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF THE OPPRESSION — WITH UPDATE.
Another lonely Saturday night at my parents’ house. It really makes me want to kill myself thinking about how everyone else is out having fun with their friends. Thinking about how I don’t have any friends. Thinking about how I’m the only one left now without a significant other. I swear it’s enough to want to kill myself. Thank god for my “as needed” meds. This is where they come in handy.
I do wonder whether my writing would be interesting at all to anyone else. I wonder if the things that I think really matter and I wonder if anyone else would even care to read the words that I write from my heart. I wonder if my heart has any worth. If my words have any meaning. If my thoughts have any value. I wonder and I wonder alone, by myself. I hate living like this, without friends, with nothing to do, no people to see, no place to be. It’s funny, it’s no wonder to me why that 17-year-old boy went and killed himself by the train. I have most of the comforts that I need categorically, but without people to share my life with, it doesn’t matter what or how much that I have. Nothing really matters without people to share it with.
I just want to know why, all of my life, I’ve had such terrible difficulty making and maintaining relationships. I don’t know what it has to do with, whether it has to do with my not liking bars or my bipolar or what. I don’t know why, but I have terrible difficulty making and maintaining relationships. That’s what makes me want to kill myself. The loneliness when everyone else goes home at night. The loneliness when everyone else goes home to their significant other, and I come home by myself. It’s enough to want to kill myself. It’s no wonder, that 17-year-old boy…