Posted at 2:54 AM 0 comments (+) A few years ago, when I dropped out of uni the first time, I remember saying, telling somebody, "3 years in uni and nothing to show for it."

And that's exactly how I feel about life right now.

I've lived all these years, nearly three decades on this earth, and I've got absolutely nothing to show for it.

No flashy job, no long-time partner (or any partner, for that matter), no uncountable '0's in my bank account, no mental stability even. I came to this realisation some time ago, while I was shallowly contemplating the possibility of trying to date someone again, if only for the heck of it, that I had absolutely nothing to offer in a relationship.

I have no high-paying job, no qualifications whatsoever, shit personality, no fucking mental stability. I literally have nothing I could bring to the table in a partnership.

Sometimes I post things on social media, on ig stories because there is no one to tell. And while that might seem pathetic to some people, why am I being all mopey and depressed on fucking social media for the world to see, I guess... maybe I just wanted somebody to listen.

I always remember how 2015 was the year I almost killed myself, and how I'd known then, that the only way to save myself was to get a job, be employed. Ever since I started working a 9 to 5, I realised that yeah, I really don't have time to dwell on these things. The weight of being alive, the weight of things I should already be or have achieved but have not. It was easier to just shove everything to the background. Focus on how tired I am instead. Sleep, go to work, come home, eat, repeat. No time to think about self destruction, or trying to attempt self destruction because I still have to get up in the morning and go to work. I've said this once before, I think, that sometimes I choose bad habits as a way of punishing myself. Not sleeping despite being dog tired, drinking too much alcohol, wanting to buy my own pack of cigarettes even when I know I hate the smell that lingers after. When I'm working, I don't have time to indulge in these silly thoughts.

Some nights though. Late at night like this, when I have one of my carefully curated Spotify playlist playing. It still hits me like a fucking train wreck. The entire weight of this life and what I should be but am not. What was the purpose of suffering like this? What could I possibly gain from drifting through year after repeated year of solitude and despondency, what was I supposed to get out of this? I feel like I am stuck at this level of the game of life, have been for what feels like forever. No matter how many times I repeat the level, I can't beat it to progress to the next. So I keep jumping over the same cracks in the pavement, keep tripping over the same obstacles. Again and again and again. And then I start thinking about self destruction again.

What is my next step? Is there a next step?

How could I not turn cold, hard, bitter?

Will somebody ever understand? Try to?

We're all running our own race. We all have our all-consuming troubles that it is hard for people to spare their mental capacities for others. I know, I know, I know.

I just.