The population of the world is approximately 7.13 billion people. If the whole world got together and made a list of the top 2,376,666,666 (1/3) people who have no positive influence or contributions to society, are generally awful people, murderers, etc. (basically a waste of air/space/resources) I probably wouldn’t even make the list.
So why is it that my entire being, down to the very fibres that make each cell (or whatever), are convinced I have no right to be here, and that barely anyone would even blink if I were to disappear? That the world would be better off without me. That I AM the biggest waste of everything.
I’m not even like some – knew what I wanted only to have had it taken away. No, I’ve never known what I want, never gotten what I think I want, I’m never truly happy… but I try to be nice, I try to be helpful, “Christian”, “good”… I try to look on the bright side. I don’t always try to take the easy way out. I’m willing and able to work for things. I try to be happy. I try to like what I do get, work with what I have, make the best of anything that comes my way. But NOTHING satisfies.
I have this big, gaping, churning chasm deep inside me full of fire and acid and everything painful that slowly eats away at who you think you are, who you think you want to be and it just feeds and eats and churns up more and keeps on going and never lets me have a break.
The voice in my head tells me how awful and stupid and pointless and weak and wasteful and hurtful I am. It tells me how being here does more harm than good. It tells me to shut up – you have nothing to say and no one wants to hear it anyway. It tells me to listen to the people who say they’re here for me and to talk out my problems, but also whispers in my ear as I’m doing it that they think I’m overreacting, or lying (because that Facebook picture you posted was upbeat and you smiled so life can’t be that bad!) or that my problems are so insignificant in the grand scheme of things and on a lesser extent in comparison to other people’s problems that my reaction to them is wrong and I’m just a big crying baby who won’t listen to logic or reason. It tells me to scream, though no one will hear and on the off chance they do they’ll tell you you’re wrong or stupid or not listen. It tells me that no amount of blood work or counselling can 100% say what is wrong therefore I will never be “fixed”. I will never be ok. I will never be happy. I will never feel well. I will always have headaches and stomach aches and body aches and extreme fatigue. I’ve tried for YEARS to “pull up my socks”, “suck it up”, to understand that everyone goes through rough patches but they don’t all miss work, that there’s no reason to be this way.
I will always idealize suicide and pray to die multiple times per day. To pray to whatever god there is to just end my torture and take me away. I don’t even want an afterlife. I want no life. I want silence. I want nothing.