I live life as if assuming I won’t live to have a long life, and I can’t remember the last time I didn’t think this way.

Every night I go to bed just slightly disappointed (some nights more than others), that I don’t have a fatal disease, and I wonder (and hope) my expiration date is nearer than I could imagine.

But my fear is that I’ll end up living a long life, because that would be just my luck.

Some people just weren’t made to live in this world long, and I really feel like I’m one of them. Or I hope that I am.

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hellooooo.

It’s hard to believe that people care enough about me when I feel like I could fall off the face of the earth and it would take at least a few days for anyone besides like, my mom, to realize I’m not around.

Also, when you’re unemployed, it feels like you’re on the outside looking in on everyone else functioning normally and dealing with their jobs even if they hate them. But I did that for a long time. I had to do what I did. But sometimes it still feels like I failed. Like I should have continued being miserable for even longer. Except when you’re beyond miserable, it’s a lot harder to pretend you give a shit about anything at all.

Choosing to think of the kind authentic words that have been said to me recently from unlikely people. And if they could come up with the nice things they said, surely I must not be so bad and forgettable, right?

I realize when I think about my life in the future, that I don’t even think about anything past 60 (which may be normal). I don’t want to live to an old age. Especially with chronic health problems. And the way my brain functions (or doesn’t function).

Life will always be a struggle with me. Regardless of how many stressors are or are not in my life, no matter how ‘good’ things may go, it all feels like a mountain to climb, to appear like a functional adult like most other people. But even when I’m happy and having a ton of fun, there’s still this underlying depression, disillusionment and general apathy under the metaphorical carpet that is my life. It’s like the smell of cat pee which is so hard to get rid of even after you clean (multiple times). And then it feels like it’s a part of your identity.

And I wonder if people generally go to bed and wake up in the morning ready for whatever comes. I wake up after not enough sleep, and feel slightly disappointed that I did. It takes so much effort to get out of bed and shower, and then get out of my shower and put myself together.

When will I have a spring in my step? When will I feel super excited about whatever may come? Will I ever want to date someone again and let them into my life and soul and thoughts? Will I ever be able to accept compliments when I get them? Will I ever feel like I’m more than an inconvenience and pity friend and convince myself that people who care about me won’t be disappointed in me and bounce as soon as I do something wrong?

I wish I could hibernate all the way through thanksgiving, christmas and new year’s and just wake up when it’s all over. I’d save money and stress and overwhelming feelings of loneliness and unmet expectations.

I think my anxiety over having anxiety is giving me a headache, nausea and dizziness. I can’t even pinpoint what’s making me have that impending doom feeling in my gut, but I feel like throwing up.

 

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