Sometimes I just get so tired of life. It seems like nothing I do is ever good enough. I try and please everyone, but no matter how hard I try, it doesn't work. I still fuck things up all the time. Every time I turn around I'm making another mistake. Big ones, little ones....it doesn't matter really. A mistake is a mistake.
And I tend to get so self absorbed that I become useless to anyone else who has a problem. When someone is upset, all I can think about is how I can fix everything or make this person happy. And if I can't do either of those things, then I feel useless. And I start worrying about how I failed yet again to do anything right. And suddenly the entire matter is about me and not them. I've forgotten them entirely, except for how they relate to me. I'm too worried about what I didn't do right, that I don't even remember what their problem was.
I hate this about myself. I hate that I'm so selfish. I hate that everything always has to be about me. God knows I've got enough problems to occupy the average person over several lifetimes. But really, who cares? I'm not the only one who has shit to deal with. And maybe someone just wants me to shut up for two seconds and listen to them? Maybe I don't need to fix them or make them happy? But I guess I want to do that so badly because I can't seem to do it for myself. So if I can do it for them, I'm not a total waste of life. I can feel like a hero. I can feel important. Special. Needed. And when I can't do it, I wonder why I'm here at all. What good am I?
It feels like my only reason for being here in this world to analyze myself to death until no one can stand to be around me. I certainly don't want to be around me. But I'm stuck. It's hard to run away from yourself, even if you try. And I've tried. It never works out the way I think it will. It only seems to make me feel worse about myself once I wake up and realize I'm still here. And that I never actually escaped after all.
I don't even know why I'm writing this. I just feel like I need to spew this out somewhere. Even if it's pointless. I never get anywhere with myself. I never really make any progress with anything. And every time I do, something else comes along and cancels it out. And it's always my fault. I just can't seem to stop myself from screwing up at every turn. And I'm tired of even trying anymore. Sometimes I just don't see the point.
I'm sure I'll get over this eventually, but right now, I'm mad at myself. I'm disappointed in myself. I expect too much from everything and I don't have the patience to ride things out when they don't end up like I imagined. I really thought that taking medicine would be the magic cure all for my damaged head. But when it didn't work immediately, I wanted to give up. I still do.
And it scares me because I know this is the end of the line. If this doesn't help me, nothing will. And I might just be destined to live like this forever with no end in sight. And if I survive it, I wonder who will be left standing with me. Probably no one. Because I don't think anyone wants to put up with me for that long and I don't blame them.
Everyone wanted me to fix myself and I tried. But I failed miserably at it. Just like I always do. I've proven that I'm a lost cause. I used to look back at my life and feel some sense of accomplishment to see how much I've overcome and was still standing. But now I know that I never really overcame anything. Because I haven't changed inside at all. I'm still the same person. Still searching and never finding whatever it is I'm looking for. It's pretty hard to find what you're looking for, when you don't even know what it is. All I do know is that whatever it is, I'm not looking in the right places.
I expect miracle cures and intoxicating happiness that never ends. But who gets that? No one. So why do I think I should have that? I guess it all goes back to how selfishly delusional I am. Do I really think I deserve to have something that no one else has? No, I don't. But I still want it anyway.
But it's hard to have something that doesn't exist isn't it? I need new goals. More realistic goals. But I can't seem to get my head out of the fucking clouds long enough to make them. Maybe someday I'll get a burst of renewed vigor and life will seem worth conquering again. But tonight, I just feel pointless and tired. Maybe if I can actually sleep for a change I'll feel better. We'll see.



