just another sad utter failure at life

[ahikkineet]

wish i could scream. wish i could howl and rage and go wild, unleash all my misery and fury upon the world instead of sobbing and whimpering quietly in my room while conversation proceeds as normal outside

[ahikkineet]

I HATE EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING

EVERYTHING

A BIG FUCK YOU TO THIS WHOLE FUCKING WORLD

[ahikkineet]

i actually dreamed that i time-traveled back to childhood. like most dreams, the details didn’t match real life but in that dream i was so overjoyed. this second chance fantasy sustains me most days. living in lala land is better than external self harm right.

so yeah i was so fucking disappointed to wake up that day.

[ahikkineet]

i don’t talk to anyone. not about what i think.

it’s terrifying, the thought of someone seeing me, and judging. better the loneliness of baring my heart here, where no one sees and no one cares

[ahikkineet]

was asked to look for an acquaintance’s facebook message. don’t have facebook so i had to google how. still couldn’t find it. was told nevermind if it was too hard, so i left. acted outwardly snippy as i did so.

proceeded to have a crying fit in my room. feels like every little failure is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

[ahikkineet]

i want someone to love me. i want a stranger to look at my ugly, twisted, hurting little soul and swamp it with unjudging affection.

and i want this without any effort on my part. which of course is impossible. i recognize that i have to try to be better, kinder, to actually work, to put myself out there, to try and improve, to be less of a burden. i do none of this, and indulge in fantasies instead and escape to books and games. i show the world a poker face and nurse my resentments. i blame my traumas for my own laziness, call it depression and refuse to be impartial, critical in this diagnosis.

i don’t believe in god but i pray anyway. i pray for magical fixes, time travel where i can fix all my mistakes, a completely new chance at life, with talent and awareness enough to succeed this time.

i want to have value. i want to truly believe i have value. i want, with all my flaws and insignificance and self-centeredness, to be the protagonist of a fairy tale.

[ahikkineet]

i started out as one of those promising children. highest percentile, good memory, aced tests without trying much. i spent recesses in the library and enjoyed some classes and got mostly good grades on less effort and was chosen for quiz bees. got into a special high school. and yet i was also weird from the beginning. no neighborhood friends because i talked different. awkward at school. moved my hands when i talked, i didn’t even notice but apparently that was funny and worthy of mockery? usually a sort of tagalong in a friend group at school.

i could say i don’t know where it went wrong but i do. it was quite early.

now at a humiliating age, degree-less after dropping out of three different colleges, i wonder what my parents think. they were so proud at the beginning.

in second grade i wrote some pretentious barmy that makes me cringe hard now, but my teacher praised it and my mother loved it, kept mentioning it to people despite my embarrassment. i hated it being showed off, and i hated having my horrible, delusionally grandiose, saccharine words exposed even to her. i still hate it. i hate exposing my vulnerable bits. but mixed with the shame is regret that i left that gift - it was a gift, and even back then mixed with the embarrassment was pride - to rot.

now i’m writing wallowing self-pitying pieces on a blog no one reads, in plain dumb prose. this is what i’ve come to. i had potential, but like millions of other forgotten unnoted ants of the world, wasted all i had. what a shitty pointless ending.

[ahikkineet]

i never understood cutting

until today. in a rush of rage and sadness i imagined slicing my wrist open and dying. i am still afraid of it. the thought of no longer existing anywhere, of my consciousness being totally gone, is terrifying and makes me panicky.  and i don’t want more pain. but it also feels like a relief. and as usual penning a mental suicide note, imagining me expressing some of my resentment and passive aggressive accusations as i sob quietly in my room, made me feel better.

but i am not brave enough to actually attempt suicide yet. it’s just an attractive, scary idea, and sometimes in the grip of the really despairing moments, i want it badly. this is what they call ideation right?

so i dug along the vein with an instrument too blunt to cut, but left a thin iindented  line. it hurt and i am afraid to hurt myself more but the line looked good. i liked it. having some of my pain take a physical form really does feel, i don’t know how to describe it, but it felt better than not doing anything to kill myself. in all my years i’ve never cut,  i don’t think i will start anytime soon, but that line, which has now dissipated but left a red swelling? is good. a small relief.

[ahikkineet]

just like it says on the tin

a hikki and a neet and a disappointing failure on all counts

i can’t afford therapy either

so very pathetic and broken but i want to leave even just a little proof that even as a mute parasite my heart still has some kind of voice