22
I’ve been 22 for two weeks now. And my mind is back at it again with the same bullshit. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about, and it’s always the same shit, but because of the nature of this thing, the longer time passes, the worst it is.
I’m 22 and I’ve never had a relationship, I don’t know how to kiss and I’m a virgin.
If there’s anything in which I agree with feminists (which is actually quite a few things), the one that hits me the most is about toxic masculinity.
FUCK IT. Fuck it for making me feel like a lesser person for not sticking my penis in a woman’s vagina. Like Jesus fucking Christ why in the hell does that bother me so much. It literally robs me from my sleep, it creates suicidal thoughts and the “need” for self harming.
I’m supposed to be sleeping right now, in about 10 hours I’ll be back at Uni after a 3 month strike and will have to function at 300%.
But I’m here, laying in my bed with a self induced headache after hitting myself so much. Just thinking about it. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get those thoughts out of my head. That I’m worthless, ugly, fat and unattractive. Why in the hell would someone want to be on a relationship with me. Why would anyone think of me as something more than a friend.
I hate myself, and as ridiculous it may sound, I hate myself for hating myself. “You’ll never be loved until you learn to love yourself”. That’s something I heard quite a few years ago, about 8 or 9 and it has stuck to me. My self esteem is so fucking low that in some way I’m repulsive. I don’t like hiding or putting on a mask, even though it is what I should be doing. I won’t dance around the fact that I’ve struggled with depression for years and would never ever lie about having friends that I don’t have, or having a girlfriend or any of that.
But hey, of course it is a reason for someone to just bail. I mean, as soon as sex appears in a conversation and I express that I just can’t participate since I have literally no experience, the looks… Oh my God the looks that I tend to get. Now I’m the weirdo in the room, I’m out of the conversation. It’s literally like being in a club of Marvel fans discussing Infinity War when you haven’t watched a single film.
You feel left out. That you don’t belong.
The chest pain grows stronger.
I haven’t cried in months, save from my birthday 2 weeks ago when my grandma fucked up everything. Again.
I’m just tired. I want to sleep. Wouldn’t mind not waking up …


























